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#so I don't know how I managed to spent 3 hours or so on this
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not one of my coworkers trying to consistently pressure me into drinking/smoking with him and misgendering me nearly every other sentence then getting mad when i un-added him on snap?? when i never once even opened his original snap to me???
when it's not my day off i'm probably going to talk to my DM to remove myself from training him again bc this is getting ridiculous, it's 2:45 am and he's blowing my phone up about this but i can't block him because we work together-ish
#getting a little fed up about this#he's also been treating me like a district manager when i don't even cover his store at all#i trained him originally bc i train all the managers in my system#for reference he's an assistant manager of another store and i'm the manager of my own store#our district manager oversees both our stores and one other store#initially he and i got along well but 2 days in to training this guy for 3 days straight i was looking for a way out#he tells me all about his 'bad trips with weed' and how he 'doesn't wanna drink alone'#like bitch WHAT#you're 5 years older than me and know i can't legally drink#i'm also 99% certain he's gay? which makes it even more confusing#literally just not gonna reply until thursday bc i'm off today for yom kippur#which he made fun of me taking off. for the record.#fuck this guy lmao💀 always talking about how he deserves to be a full manager yada yada#cant even make a decision by himself! always needs to run it by me or our DM#he's also not fully trained#bc he spent most of the shifts i was trying to train him fucking around or disappearing for an hour to go pick up food#which like. whatever. but i already gave up 3 days i should've been focusing on my own staff to train him#why should i be forced to give up more#literally this dude needs so much validation from me it's not even funny#he almost exclusively sends me voice memos and shit then demands i listen to them while i'm trying to do shit in my own store#i don't care about his store's drama! it doesn't affect me in any way!!#ngl i kind of doubt he'll last the winter especially when he finds out he's not coming in our annual business trip#they don't have me running my own store at 20 and training people 2x my age for nothing#sorry not to vent about work at almost 3am#whizzy speaks#personal#tw vent#oh my god and i know he's pissed bc our dm likes me better💀 he was bitching about dm tearing him to shreds about the state of his store#he asked me if dm does the same to me and i got the absolute pleasure of telling him no#our dm really only gets on me about keeping my freezer alphabetized and i run ideas and numbers by him but that's it. he was SO pissed lmaoo
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thinkinonsense · 1 month
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I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ
dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader
cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.
wc: 800+
a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!
。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。
The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.
Your Logan.
"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.
Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.
Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?
Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.
"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."
"I know."
Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.
"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.
"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."
Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.
"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."
"You don't have to be."
It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.
All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.
"What are you doin' awake?"
The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.
"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.
"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.
"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.
"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.
"Were we really married?"
You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.
"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.
"Five."
"What was our life like?"
"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."
"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.
"You would have to."
He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.
"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.
Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.
"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"
"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."
You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.
For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.
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thatnewweeb · 2 months
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Childhood Sweethearts | Bakugo Katsuki
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Summary | You moved to America when you were young, having to leave behind your childhood sweetheart. After moving back to Japan, you'll find out if things have changed between you two
Content | Fluff, honestly I can't think of any warnings for this so let me know if you see anything that needs a warning
Word Count | 1.7k+
A/N | I love the idea of Bakugo being in love with someone through his whole life, I have no idea why. At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago
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It had been almost 5 whole years since you moved away. You missed home. It wasn't like you'd wanted to move away in the first place, but your dad's job took you away from Japan all the way to America.
Finally, at 18 years old, you finally convinced your parents to allow you to move home. Having attended an elite hero school for the past 2 years, you managed to have some special arrangements made for your return home.
And so, that is how you got to where you are now, nervously walking down the halls of UA next to Principal Nezu. He had spent the first half hour of the morning before classes began showing you around and explaining a few things to you.
At the start of homeroom at 8:25AM, he walks you to the classroom of Class 3-A, the class you will be joining, starting today.
Everyone looks over as the door opens, the principal strolling in and standing at the front of the class. You follow nervously. These people have had nearly 3 whole years to get to know each other, and here you are, the new girl joining in the final year, not knowing anyone.
At least, you didn't think you knew anyone, until you force yourself to look at the class properly.
Your eyes immediately fall on a blond boy in the second row. His own eyes are widened, locked onto you. A moment later, you rip your eyes away from him, prompting him to look away also.
When you realise Nezu has stopped speaking and is now looking at you, you snap out of it and look at the whole class.
"My name is Y/N. I have two Quirks, which I am sure I will have more time sometime soon to explain. I look forward to spending this year with you." You say and bow slightly to the class.
Your homeroom teacher, Aizawa, points you to your assigned seat, so you sit down quietly, not saying another word.
It isn't until lunch, almost four hours later, that you say anything else, besides answering questions in class. Your fourth period was English with Present Mic. Having lived in an English-speaking country for almost 5 years, it was quite an easy class for you.
Almost as soon as you are dismissed from class, you're surrounded by people, wanting to talk to you, get to know you. You're fine with that, but you did have someone else you wanted to talk to. They already walked out the door though.
"Y/N!" Someone says, popping up in front of you out of nowhere.
"Izuku!" You smile, excitedly throwing your arms around your old friend.
You see a brown-haired girl blushing as she watches you hugging Midoriya.
"I can't believe you're here! I didn't know you were coming back!"
You nod. "I know, I'm sorry I didn't say anything."
He shakes his head, wanting to reassure you. "It's okay! We fell out of touch, that's not anyone's fault."
Izuku invites you to spend lunch break with him and his friends, being introduced to them all, him explaining a little about how he got into UA at all.
After classes have finished for the day, you don't give Bakugo the chance to run. As soon as you're dismissed from class, you walk over to his desk, standing in front of it and resting your hands on the surface.
"It's nice to see you again, Katsuki." You smirk.
He looks up at you from his chair briefly, quickly looking away. “Yeah, it is.”
You lean down so you’re closer to his height, him still avoiding eye contact. “Would you mind walking me back to the dorm? I haven’t actually been there yet, Nezu didn’t have time to take me.”
He tuts but stands up, picking up his bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Not saying a thing, he leaves the classroom, you following him. You know what he’s like, you know to follow.
As soon as you're out of the halls and outside, he decides to say something. "I didn't know you were coming back." He mutters.
You're just happy to hear him say something to you. "Yeah. I know."
He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
You pause where you are, stunned. You hadn't expected him to apologise to you.
When you don't say anything, he sighs and turns to you, also stopping walking. "I shouldn't have stopped responding. I was upset you were gone, and I went about things in the stupidest way. I... I regret it."
It takes a moment for you to say anything, blinking in shock. "It's okay." You smile brightly up at him. "I understand. It was hard on both of us, after all."
"Yeah, but I ghosted you. I shouldn't have done that. Not to you, you don't deserve that."
"I agree you shouldn't have done it, dummy. But I'm saying I understand, okay?"
He smiles a little, looking down at you. "Come on, let's go to the dorms." He tugs on your backpack, indicating that you should take it off. When you do, he slings one strap over his shoulder, carrying it for you.
"Since when did you become a gentleman?" You ask with a small laugh, making him grunt a 'shut up' to you, his cheeks going slightly pink.
Finally reaching the dorms, Bakugo opens the door for you, letting you into the large building.
Everyone else is already there, the people in the communal area looking at you as you enter. Other than Izuku, people seem a little surprised to see you with Bakugo, and even more surprised that he doesn't look as annoyed as he typically does.
With everyone staring, Katsuki shoves your bag back into your arms before walking over to the stairs to go to his room.
You smile a little as you watch him, shaking your head.
Izuku is the first person to come up to you, smiling. "Everyone wants to get to know you a little. If you have some time, come sit with us?"
You do what he says, walking over and taking a seat between him and a boy with a black streak in mostly blond hair.
You end up spending a couple hours with them, telling them about your Quirk and what it's like to live in America. When they ask about you seemingly already knowing both Izuku and Katsuki, you tell them that you grew up with them.
A girl with pink skin, who you learn is Mina, asks you for some stupid stories about them as kids, Izuku going red and telling you that you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, trying to save himself the embarrassment.
Even though you're unsure if Bakugo will be annoyed at you for telling them this, you also tell them a few stories from when you and him were dating before you left for America.
Everyone seems surprised, a small uproar coming from the class. No one had ever even seen an indication that he had ever been interested in anyone, yet alone had a girlfriend. It appeared to be a ludicrous idea to most of them.
Kaminari seems to deflate a little upon realising you dated one of his best friends. Guess he thought you were pretty.
Not long after, you go find your room, needing to unpack. Right before you close the door, a foot stops it from closing. A second later, Bakugo comes into view.
"Well, hello there." You smirk a little, looking up at him.
He smirks back, placing a hand on the doorframe, standing in front of you. "Hey. Care if I come in?"
You move out the way for him to come in but tell him it's a little messy because you're still unpacking.
He doesn't even look at the room, closing the door as soon as he's inside and standing close to you, essentially pinning you between him and the door.
That's when you really realise how much he's changed. He's so much taller now than when you last saw him, his shoulders broader, entire body more muscular, a few visible scars now. The whole thing makes you a little flustered.
"So, do you have a little American boyfriend now?" He asks with a slight snarl, expression turning into a smirk as soon as you shake your head. "No? Then, would you mind if I kissed you?" He whispers in your ear.
You don't verbally respond, but the look on your face gives him the answer he needs. He keeps one hand on the wall, the other coming to rest on your waist, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. Your own hands find your way to his chest, gripping onto his shirt.
A moment later, he pulls away a little, smirking. "Guess we haven't missed a beat, huh?"
You laugh, not letting go of his shirt. "Suki, you're an ass." You say, making him laugh too.
"Yeah, but you love it." He whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. "It's starting to get late, and you haven't finished unpacking yet. If you wanted to stay in my room tonight, you're welcome to."
You look up at him, a little surprised by the proposal. When he sees the look on your face, he panics a small amount. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant we can spend the night sleeping together- no, not sleeping together! Not like that! I just meant- we- we can- I meant-"
You giggle at his nervousness, making him look a little angry. You move your hands to rest on his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes and smashing your lips against his.
When you finally break the kiss again, both a little breathless, he stares at you, mouth open slightly.
"Sorry, I had to find a way to shut you up." You smile. "I'd love to cuddle tonight, Suki."
He looks relieved, taking your hand. "Come on, let's go."
You spend the rest of the night in Bakugo's dorm, cuddling and eventually falling asleep in his bed.
Before he falls asleep, he spends a few moments just watching you, barely being able to believe that he got lucky enough to get you back into his life. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, holding you tighter, closing his own eyes and falling asleep.
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AITAH for telling my wife no?
My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.
Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.
Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.
A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.
Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.
I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.
When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.
She told my parents the promotion included relocation.
I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.
What are these acronyms?
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sparklingblu · 4 months
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Eroverse
Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega
Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)
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Good news. None.   
Bad news. Where do you even start?   
The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   
To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    
Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  
Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  
If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  
Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   
A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   
You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   
"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  
Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   
Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   
Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   
After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  
"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  
"Yeah, I'm fine.."  
"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  
He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  
"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  
"Have you been working late again?"  
Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  
"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  
"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  
You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   
And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 
You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  
A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 
You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 
Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 
You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  
Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  
You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  
In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 
You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 
After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 
So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  
You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  
Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  
Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  
"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 
God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 
This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  
You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  
So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 
The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 
This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 
The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  
Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  
You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 
To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  
Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  
The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 
This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 
You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 
"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  
The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 
"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 
"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 
Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  
"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 
"Others? What are you talking about?" 
"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  
"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 
"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 
"I was just doing what the app told me to" 
"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 
The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  
"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 
"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 
"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 
"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 
She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 
"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 
"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 
You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 
"Wait, you don't mean my-"  
"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 
"You can't do that! It's illegal" 
"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 
You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 
"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 
"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 
You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  
"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 
Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  
"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  
"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 
Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  
"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 
"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 
"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 
"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 
"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  
"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 
"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 
"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 
"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 
"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 
"Yeji, please" 
Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  
Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 
"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 
You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  
"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 
"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 
She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 
Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 
But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  
"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 
You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  
"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 
"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  
All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  
The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  
As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 
With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 
Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 
"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 
"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  
Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 
"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 
From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 
"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 
The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 
"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 
"I swear I will kill-" 
You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 
"I-" 
Spank 
"will-" 
Spank 
"kill-" 
Spank 
"you-" 
The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 
With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 
Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  
"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  
You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  
Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 
Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 
You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 
"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 
You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  
Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 
Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  
The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 
You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  
"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 
"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 
"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 
"He?" 
"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 
"But-" 
The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  
"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 
"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)
839 notes · View notes
belxveds · 3 months
Note
Could you write a fic where the reader is Stark’s daughter and he catches her and Peter fooling around in her room/main room whilst they think he is out?
caught in a web of kisses
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pairings: peter parker x f!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader
brief: (requested!) misunderstandings and compromising situations with peter lead to a whole of cackling and screaming throughout the stark tower compound. a brief look into the life of y/n stark and your struggles with your stupidly overprotective dad and chaotically cute boyfriend.
tags: humour. fluff. borderline crack fic. "enemies" to lover. established relationship.
a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i appreciate it :) it always makes fills me with so much joy to know someone seeks out my writing <3
requests are open!
wc: 1.4k
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Perhaps it wasn't your smartest idea to pretend to absolutely despise your father's intern in front of your parents and the Avengers but . . . well- how could you possibly resist yourself when it was so much fun sharing sneaky, mischievous smiles with Peter as you both shot teasing glares across the room to maintain your appearance as rivals?
Plus, it was just a little prank to keep your relationship with Peter, as well as the days spent at the compound, more interesting. If anything, you and Peter were single handedly entertaining the entirety of Avengers with your debates and arguments. You were fairly sure they had bets going on about the two of you. It was harmless, really.
And it wasn't like you were going to keep it from them forever! You would tell them . . . eventually. You just- hadn't thought anyone would find out like this. With you and Peter in such a . . . compromising situation?
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You almost let out a small groan of exhaustion as you sunk into the unnecessarily large couch your dad had purchased for the lounge, melting into Peter's side as you fiddled with the remote to lower the lights and dim the windows. Pouting at the sliver of light that still managed to peek through the sunroof, you let out the smallest huff as you closed that as well before turning to take a glance at your boyfriend.
He let out a small yawn before shifting with your attention on him, cuddling into you tighter as he murmured, "You sure no one will be back for another 2 hours? 'Cause I swear if we get caught because you wanted to take a nap on the couch, I will never let you live this down."
Snuggling deeper into the blanket you'd draped over the two of you, you couldn't help but let out the smallest breathless laugh as you responded, "That's if they don't kill you first."
"Hey!" Peter quipped, voice growing the tiniest bit slurred as the nap you promised him began to look awfully tempting, "I'll have you know that I think your dad and also everyone else is quite fond of me, alright?"
You couldn't help but let out a snort as you mocked, pretending to push up fake glasses on the bridge of your nose as you raised the pitch of your voice, "I'll have you know-"
The gentle whack you got on your arm made you stop mid-sentence as you giggled, answering your boyfriend more seriously, "Everyone's schedule says they have stuff going on until at least 6:00, unless they were all just to magically-"
"What happened to, "God dad, if I have to see your stupid intern's face one more time, you're going to have to hold me back from stealing your repulsors and pulverizing the shit out of him?""
You're entire body pauses as you feel Peter tense in your arms, the both of you wincing in sync as you slowly, cautiously, turn your head around to face your dad, voice dragging out as you say nervously, "Uhm...so you see-".
Peter's bewilderment is audible as his head snaps to you, eyes furrowed in confused amusement as he hisses, "Why the fuck are you starting to quote Dhar Mann right now?"
"Peter", your dad interrupts, tone much too pleasant for the situation at hand and consequently sending both your spines into automatically locking up straight as you await his next move, fight or flight instincts activated, "You have 3 seconds to run."
"Mr. Stark, we can talk about this-"
"3 . . ."
"Oh shit!", your boyfriend scrambles, legs tangling into themselves and the blanket in his attempts to get free and run as he presses a ragged kiss to your forehead while declaring muffled through his panicked breath, "If I don't make it out of this alive, just know I wanted you to have my babies and be Y/N Parker-Stark."
The confession sends a surprised wheeze to rack through your body as you see him begin to take down the hallway, sparing a glance over his shoulder at you and your dad before maneuvering himself onto the ceiling and into the vents.
Your eyes tearing up from laughter, you try to speak through your immobilizing giggles as you address your dad, "Dad, father dearest, please- come on- spare him-" "2 . . ." "Dad! C'mon- you have to admit . . . from a completely scientific and objective lens with zero romantic emotions taken into account, considering all the teenage boys out there, Peter is definitely one of the better choices", you tried to level, summoning the critically-acclaimed award winning Y/N Stark inside of you and not the moderately concerned girlfriend worried that her boyfriend's cause of death may in fact be the same repulsors Peter had helped your father tweak in the lab earlier today. How unfortunately ironic. Shuffling over, albeit a bit awkwardly, to where your dad stood, you cautiously peered closer at his profile, trying your best to assess exactly how much trouble you were in. You knew deep down, he truly wasn't all that upset, though, maybe a bit grumpy about having been kept out of the loop for this long. In fact, you were positively confident he was quite happy with who you had chosen. Despite all of his teasing and successfully accomplished fatherly duties of bullying the both of you, it was stupidly evident how much he cared for Peter like a son. Not just anyone was allowed to intern for the Tony Stark, after all.
Lost in thought, you couldn't help but yelp slightly and flinch into your father's side as a muffled voice echoed down from the ceiling, cooing, "Aww Y/N, you really mean that?"
Cursing at your boyfriend's surprising lack of self preservation skills taking into consideration his literal job and particular set of talents, you glared upwards. Hoping your disappointment at his lack of distance somehow radiated through the insulated plaster, you deadpanned, "No, I was just playing. I wish I'd gotten with Harley."
"What?!" squeaked Peter, like a little vent rat, his offended gasp echoing in time with your dad's final countdown.
Giggling once again at Peter's frightened scuttling at the realization that he was out of time, you quickly reached to grip at your dad's suit clad bicep before he could make a motion to call at the Iron Man suit, your voice taking on a more serious tone as you asked softly, his opinion and approval still highly valuable to you, "You're ok with me and Peter dating though? Genuinely?"
The twitch of his signature smirk on the corner of his lips and the nodding glint in his eyes sent a happy thrill through your heart, instinctively grinning wide as you squealed and rushed to give him a tight hug, speaking through a stifled smile into his chest, "Ok, you have my consent to go squish my little spider now. Please don't bring him back to me flattened or burnt- I quite like how he is now." Your father's wrinkled nose and vocal sound of disgust at how you'd addressed his intern sent you into another fit of laughter as he spoke, "Ground rules since I know the kid's out of his freaky super-hearing range. One, ew. Never address him like that again, I might vomit. Two, if I see the two of you touch, I am immediately invoking a 50 year social-distancing ban between the two of you. 6 feet and everything. I'll throw in permanent masks if I ever catch you two kissing. Three, . . . no promises."
"In response- One, . . . no promises. Two, you don't want spider grandbabies crawling up the walls? All I'm hearing is that we can't get caught. Three, I'll tell mom", you grinned pulling back, your gaze filled with amusement and the look of humoured adoration you often had reserved specifically for your dad as he let out a little whine in complaint at your threat of telling Pepper.
It would just be a little rough up. You know, the classic "hurt my daughter and you're dead" speech. And Peter was Spider-Man! He'd be fine . . . probably.
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mailbox ༶•┈ peter parker's mailbox! ┈•༶ send letter
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677 notes · View notes
cressidagrey · 1 month
Text
Looked to the Sky - Chapter 6
Summary: 
Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.
Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.
Warnings: 
THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!
Elain Bashing, Amren bashing, Azriel is an idiot, Eira has a well-deserved crying fit and without @k-godling this would have never happened.
(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)
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"Do I want to know what your mother said to you?" Cassian asked him with a sigh the next morning. They were at the River House. 
Eira was still sleeping. Or again. Resting. Pure exhaustion apparent in every fibre of her being. She had stumbled up the stairs the night before, fell into her bed and hadn’t moved. Feyre and Nesta were both with her, had been with her since then... 
Azriel let out a small huff, and glanced at Cassian from his couch seat.
“No,” he said bluntly. “No, you really don’t want to know.”
"You're brooding," Cassian pointed out. Azriel snorted at his brother’s observation, crossing his arms.
“And you’re observant,” he said dryly. “Your point?”
Cassian huffed in amused annoyance and shoved him playfully. “Come on. Out with it,” he said, propping his feet on the coffee table, his wings shifting behind him. “You’ve been quiet and broody and grumpy all morning. You need to talk about it.”
"Talk about what? Talk about the fact that whatever Amren said to my mate was enough to push her head first into a panic so bad that she winnowed? Burned down half a forest accidentally?" Azriel asked, his voice forcedly even. "Or about the fact that I needed my mother to call me out on my bullshit because I am a fucking idiot ?"
"Language," Rhys said with a sigh, trying and failing to feed Nyx his porridge.
Cassian rolled his eyes in annoyance at Rhys’s words, while Azriel gave his high lord a flat look.
“Are you seriously going to get on me for my language?” he asked Rhys dryly. “Out of everything I just said?
"I do not need a fight with Feyre, because our son starts repeating your curse words," Rhys muttered.
Cassian snorted at that, and Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth, shaking his head.
Somehow, even right now, when everything was such a mess, Rhys still managed to find ways to be a caring father.
“Can we focus on something more important?” Azriel said, his voice a grumble. “Like the fact that I’m failing as a mate?”
Cassian’s snort turned into a choke at Azriel’s comment, his eyes going wide. “Failing as a mate? You? You’re kidding, right?”
Azriel scowled at Cassian’s shocked response.
“And how exactly is it possible that I’m not failing?” he demanded, his hands clenching into fists. “Because I can think of many, many ways, Cass.”
“What exactly have you done that qualifies as failure?” Cassian countered, shifting position so that he mirrored Azriel’s pose. “Because I’m really drawing a blank.”
"I fancied myself in love with her twin sister and pretty much used Eira as nothing but a source of information about Elain. Then, when I realised that Eira was my mate, I asked for permission to court her and within that conversation somehow found it prudent to say that Elain was the pretty one but Eira was the kind one and would protect our children fiercely. Then I gave her a harp as a courting gift, while she needed to sell her old one to keep her family from starving and nobody ever even thought about the fact that maybe that would bring up some bad memories. Then instead of asking what she wanted to do, I decided on the symphony, where I spent 3 hours sitting next to her in silence because all I could concentrate on was the fact that she held my hand . I have no fucking clue if sewing and baking and cooking are actually her hobbies or just the chores she liked best and I don't even know her favourite colour. Tell me how I am not failing, Cassian!"
Cassian opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly at a loss for words.
Azriel let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.
He knew he had screwed up. That he had failed miserably in so many ways. But saying the words aloud…hearing them said out loud…somehow just made it even more real.
He slumped down in his seat, burying his head in his hands.
“You…you really are an idiot, Az…” Cassian finally managed to say, his voice quiet as he spoke. 
Azriel knew that. 
"I told Nesta that everybody hates her," Cassian admitted quietly. "I didn't tell her that I loved her until after our fucking mating ceremony. I have no clue what her favourite colour is either, now that I am thinking about it."
When Cassian told him that, Azriel’s eyes flew open and he looked up at his brother, his jaw slackening.
“You what?” he demanded, not quite believing what he’d just heard.
"Not my best moments," Cassian admitted drily.
Azriel let out a choked snort at his brother’s reply, and he buried his head in his hands again.
“And you said I’m the idiot?” he asked faintly.
“We’re both idiots,” Cassian said matter-of-factly, flopping back against the couch cushions. “Maybe all males are idiots.”
"I didn't tell Feyre about the dangers the pregnancy put her in," Rhys said quietly. "I didn't tell her we were mates at first either. I am sure there are dozens of other things I did, where I failed as a mate."
Azriel sighed, and he let his hand drop to his lap, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’re really not helping,” he said, his voice quiet. “I shouldn’t feel better about being a failure as a mate because my brothers are failures too.“
Cassian snickered at Azriel’s response, but Rhys let out a huff and gave him an amused smile.
“I’m just saying,” he began, his eyes soft. “You’re far from the only person to have ever messed up with a mate, Azriel. Hell, the list of things I did wrong with Feyre is longer than your arm.”
Azriel closed his eyes again, letting out a sigh as he rested his head back against the couch cushions.
He knew that Rhys was right. Knew that all the males around him were speaking the truth. He wasn’t the only one to have messed up with a mate.
But somehow, knowing that didn’t make the knowledge that he had failed feel any less raw. Any less painful.
“I don’t want to fail,” Azriel said quietly. “I don’t want to put her through…this pain. But I feel like that’s all I’m doing. All I did was let my own emotions and wants and desires drown out what Eira really needed“
"Then maybe you should ask Eira what Eira actually wants," Cassian said with a snort.
...And he was already back to making the exact same error as before, wasn't he? That should have been his first thought.
Azriel closed his eyes again, letting out another weary sigh.
“How?” he mumbled. “How do I go to her and say ‘Hey, I realize that I did everything wrong so far. And I failed you and I’m an idiot, so how about you and I can start everything over from the beginning?’”
A hand, strong and heavy, descended on the top of his head and ruffled his hair.
“By doing it,” Rhys said firmly, a hint of a smile on his face. “By looking her straight in the eye and telling her what you just admitted to us. She deserves the honesty.“
“And when she says ‘no’? When she says she wants nothing to do with a failure and idiot of a male like me?” Azriel asked bitterly. “What then?”
"She won't," Rhys said calmly. "She won't, Azriel. She has been in love with you for years."
Azriel let out a sharp huff at Rhys’s statement. “Even more reason not to take me back,” he grumbled in response. “She’s loved me for that long and that’s all I come up with? Silence and stupidity? If I were her, I would reject me too."
"Just talk to her," Cassian said with a sigh. "We have enough other problems to deal with that aren't your brooding, Az."
There were so many other things to deal with. So many other things more important than his brooding.
Maybe there weren't many other things that were more important than his relationship with Eira, but still…
“Fine,” he mumbled at last, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll talk to her.” 
He needed to talk to her. Once she was awake. In the meantime… "What did you do to Amren?" he asked Rhys, who looked up startled.
“We had words,” Rhys said clippedly. “I suggested that she'll stay with Varian in the Summer Court for a few weeks. She’ll be welcome in Velaris when she can apologise to Eira and actually mean it.” Rhys’ voice was icy when he said that. “And I am due to have another conversation with Morrigan because I am not letting her get away with it either. Which reminds me, Cassian, you also owe Eira an apology,” Rhys pointed out evenly.
Cassian grimaced. “I know,” he admitted with a sigh. “I just really doubt that she wants to hear it,” he admitted quietly. 
Rhys sighed. "Which brings me to our next problem: I didn't want to push it...but we need to get Eira to train."
Azriel inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Of course, they would need to talk about that. Part of him was even surprised that Rhys had waited that long to bring up training.
"She needs control," Rhys continued, holding up a hand. "I am not talking about training her to kill anybody. I am talking about her learning to control her...lightning. And maybe some self-defence if she is up to that."
Azriel nodded in agreement. As much as he hated the thought of any sort of violence being aimed toward Eira — hated the mere idea of seeing her get hurt again — he knew that Rhys was right.
She needed to know how to control herself. To protect herself. She needed to know how to fight.
Azriel nodded again, raking a trembling hand back through his hair.
A part of him felt like he was betraying Eira by agreeing to this. Like he was failing her again. But another part, the part of him that was a warrior, that knew how to fight, that knew the dangers that came with not being able to defend yourself…that part of him agreed with Rhys.
"I'll be the bad guy," Rhys said with a sigh. "I'll be the one asking her. I hope I'll get away without outright ordering her."
Azriel let a small huff at Rhys’s comment.
He knew that if anyone had a chance at convincing Eira to train, it would be Rhys. But that didn’t help the pang of guilt at the thought of his mate receiving further training — being forced into training to begin with.
“And this arrived yesterday,” Rhys said with a sigh as he dropped an envelope in front of them. 
Azriel’s mouth flattened as he looked down at the envelope, his heart dropping at the sight of the Day Court symbol.
Cassian let out an identical, weary sigh as they also caught sight of the symbol.
Everyone in the room knew what that invitation meant.
"Feyre and I are required to attend," Rhys said quietly. "If Nesta won't go...there will be talk. Maybe less talk if Eira doesn't attend, but there will be talk about strive between the sisters, regardless of what information we feed them."
Azriel had to grit his teeth to hold back from letting out a snarl.
He knew Rhys was right. Knew that there would be talk no matter what.
But the thought of Eira being forced to attend that wedding...forced to endure Elain’s presence… He clenched his fist and took in a deep breath through his nose.
He was not going to like this. “If Eira goes, I go,” he spat out. 
Rhys’s mouth flattened for a moment, and Azriel braced himself for a fight.
Instead, his brother just gave him a short nod. “I expected nothing less, brother,” he said quietly.
****
Eira had slept. The first restful night in quite a while.
She still felt exhausted. Still felt like the world around her was...blurry. But it didn’t feel like all her energy had been sapped from her body, forcing her into unconsciousness.
It was an improvement.
"How are you feeling?" Feyre asked her softly. Nesta and she were curled around Eira in her bed...reminding her of their days in that bed in that cottage. Just one thing was lacking: Elain.
“I’m...better than I was last night,” she mumbled truthfully, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “…Still tired though.”
"You winnowed without training. That should probably be expected," Nesta said drily. 
"You also nearly put Amren on fire with your lightning," Feyre said with a grimace, and Eira flinched.
"She had that coming," Nesta growled. "What did she tell you? Were you a waste of life as well?" Eira flinched again, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.
She didn’t want to talk about Amren. Didn’t want to talk about anything that had happened. Didn’t want to think about anything that had happened.
She just wanted to…sleep. She wanted to forget. Let her eyelids close. Drift away. Not feel so goddamn tired…
"She told her that not training her powers was a waste," Feyre said quietly. "That Eira owed it to me because I hunted and apparently kept her alive . It was absolutely out of line and ridiculous."
A fresh wave of heat rushed to Eira’s cheeks as Feyre explained what had happened, and a pang of shame went to her stomach. 
Because Amren was right. She did owe it to Feyre. That, and so much more. Feyre had cared for her. Hunted for her. Protected her. And what had Eira done in return? Nothing. Nothing but fail.
“You know-“ she began to ask, her words cutting awkwardly off as she felt a pang of guilt stabbed her chest.
“Yeah, I know what she said to you,” Feyre replied, her eyes soft. “Rhys got the whole thing out of her…He had a few things to say…I had a few choice words to say to her myself.”
Eira’s heart dropped into her stomach. She should’ve known that Rhys would have found out. He seemed to find out everything sooner or later. She winced, suddenly feeling even more guilty.
"I am sorry," Eira whispered. "I didn't want...I'll...I'll train. I'll learn how to control it. I'll..." She would hate every minute but if it made it easier for Feyre, she would...
“No,” Feyre told her softly, but firmly. “You will not be doing anything to make my life easier, Eira. You owe me nothing. Do you understand me?”
She wrapped her arms around Eira tightly and rested her head against Eira’s shoulder.
“You don’t have to do anything. For me. For anyone. Understand?” she murmured softly. 
"Training would be a good idea, but you don't need to do that for me," Feyre whispered. "Do it for yourself, Eira."
Eira’s throat tightened, and she swallowed thickly.
She didn’t want to do any sort of training. She didn’t want to do anything in that moment.
She just wanted to lie in bed. Forget about the world. And yet…she knew that training would be a smart idea. That she did need to learn how to control her...lightning. And she didn’t want a repeat of last night. With great reluctance, she swallowed again. “I…alright,” she mumbled. “I’ll…I’ll train. And learn how to control…my…lightning.“
She hated the words as soon as they escaped her mouth, but she didn’t take them back. She knew it was the right thing to do…even if she didn’t like it.
"I know you're not looking forward to it," Feyre said drily, and Eira smiled despite herself. A tiny, reluctant smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"Who's…going to…" she began, before trailing off. “Who's going to be training me?”
"Not Amren," Nesta snapped immediately.
The words were like a weight being lifted from Eira’s chest. She was relieved more than she cared to admit that Amren wouldn’t be the one training her…and then guilt immediately set in. She shouldn’t feel so relieved. So happy. Amren had done nothing but be harsh but the truth to her, and yet…she still couldn’t stop herself from being happy that the female wouldn’t be training her.
“…That, we know already,” Feyre deadpanned as she shot her sister a fond smile. “But you’re right. Nobody is thinking about having Amren train Eira. It’ll probably be Rhys if you are comfortable with that.”
She took a deep breath.
Rhys.
Rhys was…good. She could deal with Rhsy training her. Out of all the options…he was good. It could be worse, she tried to tell herself.
“Doesn't he have...anything more important to do?” Eira asked hesitantly.
She knew that Rhys was the High Lord and…surely he didn’t have time to deal with her. Surely, he had more important things to deal with than training some…somebody like her. 
She was…waste of time, and she didn’t want to be any more of a burden on him than she already was.
“He’ll figure it out,” Feyre replied, giving her a soft smile. “He’ll make time, Eira. He’s good like that.”
Nesta made an annoyed sound, making Feyre roll her eyes.
Eira swallowed again, the words not really doing anything to reassure her that she wasn’t wasting Rhys’s time.
Rhys was important. The High Lord. He shouldn’t have to waste his time with her . She knew that she couldn’t say those things. Couldn’t make Feyre or Nesta realize how ridiculous this whole thing was…how insane it was to have the High Lord of the Night Court as her teacher .
“It’ll be fine,” Feyre repeated, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Now...how was...your meeting with Azriel's mother yesterday?" Feyre asked. "I need to admit, I didn't even know that his mother was still....alive," she admitted with a grimace.
"He mentions her...very rarely," Nesta disagreed quietly. "She's a seamstress though...She made him a jacket he wore for solstice once."
Eira hadn't known that…but then she also hadn’t known that his mother was still alive. He had never mentioned her to Eira at all. And Esmeray…Esmeray was the last thing Eira wanted to talk about. Eira didn't want to walk about...about what she had said.
"She…was nice. Sweet, like Azriel," Eira answered quietly, swallowing. "She was...maternal. Not like our mother was." It was true. She was sweet…kind…lovely. 
Feyre and Nesta exchanged a glance. "But?" Feyre prompted her quietly. "Did she say....anything?"
Eira didn’t say anything, just closed her eyes. “Talk to us,” Nesta said softly. “What did she say, Eira?” 
"She figured out who I was after I told her my first name...and then she said that Azriel is fond of me but he is fonder of Elain..and that it's too bad that she is mated to another," Eira blurted out, her voice shaky. "He didn't tell her...He didn't tell her that our…that the mating bond had snapped." She could feel the tears burn in her eyes.
"Oh, Eira," Feyre breathed, sounding heartbroken for her.
"I am going to fucking kill him," Nesta muttered.
“Get in line,” Feyre grumbled, and Eira could just feel the scowl her friend was shooting at Azriel in her head.
She swallowed again, feeling the guilt and the shame and the hurt and the….everything, rising up in her chest.
She didn’t want to be upset at this. Didn’t want to feel like…like she had a claim over Azriel, but she couldn’t help the painful pang in her chest at the words Esmeray had said.
Too bad that Elain is mated to another… 
He is fonder of Elain… 
Those words, they just hurt. They burned. And she felt so...helpless.
And the thought that he hadn’t told his mother about their mating bond…it just made the pain even worse.
"Azriel...he said…when he asked me to court…he said that Elain was the pretty one but I was the kind one," Eira choked out. "He wanted her. I am just...I am just a consolation prize to him, aren't I?"
For a moment it was silent. 
"First of all," Feyre said firmly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You are not a consolation prize. Don't ever let me hear you say that again, alright? You are not a consolation prize, you are a treasure ."
"Second," she continued, her voice growing cold. "He is an idiot. Who the hell tells you that? Why would he say that?"
Eira shrugged, feeling her eyes burn.
She didn't know. She didn't understand why he would say that. Why he had said any of what he had said? 
But she knew that...part of her, part of her hoped that he had meant it in an endearing way. That he had called her kind because he liked that about her.
"I thought...I thought just having him could be enough," she whispered. "But how am I supposed to live my whole life knowing that he would be happier if he was mated to Elain? To be compared to her day, after day, and found lacking?"
"For Fuck's sake, Eira!" Nesta snapped.
"He only wants me because of the bond. And maybe because of the vision he saw...he wants the babies we would have together, but he doesn't want me," she choked out. "Every other female would suffice as well."
"Stop that. You know that's not true," Feyre said firmly, wrapping an arm around Eira's shoulders again. "He cares about you; I've seen it for myself."
Eira choked on a bitter laugh. "What does it matter," she whimpered. "He might care...but Elain is still what he wants. Nothing will change that...not even the Mating Bond."
"Azriel...he's an idiot," Nesra agreed angrily. "A complete idiot who can't see that you...you're right in front of him. Yeah, Elain may be the most beautiful out of us all, but she’s clearly bone deep ugly, if she…she tried to keep your babies from you?” Nesta asked and Eira just nodded, tears pouring out of her eyes. 
“A girl,” she choked out. “A girl. Azriel’s wings but my hair. We looked so happy in that stupid vision. And I was pregnant again.” 
Feyre’s mouth fell open as she stared at Eira in shock, while Nesta’s eyes hardened furiously. “She...really…” Feyre’s voice trailed off, sounding heartbroken.
Nesta let out a loud, furious snarl. “She’s a monster . Elain is a monster ,” she spat, her hands forming into fists. 
“She…she tried to keep my babies from me,” Eira repeated, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Azriel and I…looking happy…and...and now...I..."
She had to pause, the tears making it impossible for her to continue.
Both Feyre and Nesta wrapped their arms around her, hugging her tightly.
“It’s not fair,” she choked out. “It’s not fair. I saw us. I saw how happy we were…”
It was as clear as day in her memory. That vision of them in that garden, of Azriel kissing her, of the little girl being hoisted up in the air by him…
Eira had looked so happy. Everything had been so perfect, so right…it had almost made her dizzy. It had been everything she had ever wanted. 
Only to have it ripped away. To know that she’d had a chance at happiness, a chance at…of a family, of everything that she had always wanted…only to have it ripped away so cruelly…
It hurt. It hurt more than anything she’d ever felt in her entire life.
"It's not fair," she mumbled hopelessly, burying her face against Feyre's shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's not fair...He wouldn’t have even cared…he wouldn’t have even…looked in my direction…if the bond hadn’t snapped…he wouldn’t even have looked at me…”
Don't cry, the shadows whispered, coming to wrap around her hands. Don't cry. Master was an utter fool. Blinded by a pretty face. But he does care about you. 
She let out a sob, feeling more of the shadows slide up her arms to wrap around her.
She didn’t know that. Azriel cared…but it didn’t change how he felt about Elain. It didn’t change that he didn’t care for her, for Eira. He only…he only wanted her because of the bond.
He only felt responsible for her because they were mates. All the...feelings...he had towards her...were all just because of the bond.
The shadows only continued to coil around her as she wept silently into Feyre’s shoulder, her heart aching.
She had known from the beginning that Azriel didn’t care for her beyond the bond.
But...until she had heard what Esmeray had said, and learned that he hadn’t told her the truth, she’d still had some tiny part of hope. Some small, stupid part of her that had clung to the hope that maybe, maybe, he would start to feel for her the same way that she felt for him.
"I loved him from the moment I saw him. I looked at him and it was...it was like coming home," she choked out.
“Of course you did,” Feyre said softly, gently stroking her hair as the tears continued to fall. “Of course you did…”
Nesta said nothing, the only sound that escaped her was a low, furious huff.
"I am really going to kill him," she hissed.
“Save some for me,” Feyre grumbled as she held Eira fiercely, her free hand rubbing soothing circles into her back.
His Mother had words for Master, the shadows said quietly, coiling themselves into her hair. He's brooding. 
“Good,” Nesta said firmly. “I hope he’s miserable.”
“Nes,” Feyre said quietly, giving her sister a gentle nudge.
“What?!” Nesta said, scowling. “Seriously, he deserves it.”
Eira couldn’t help the tiny part of her that felt bad for him…that felt guilty thinking about him being miserable.
She knew Azriel didn’t love her, and didn’t feel the same way, but…a part of her cared about him. She didn’t want him to be miserable.
 "Why is he brooding?" she asked quietly.
The shadows hummed again, making a soft whispering sound before they spoke again.
His Mother told him he was an idiot. 
"She did?" Feyre perked up in surprise, while Nesta’s mouth curled into a satisfied smirk.
Yes, the shadows confirmed, coiling themselves into Eira’s hair like a strange, sentient snake.
It made something warm stir in Eira’s chest, imagining Esmeray calling Azriel an idiot to his face. Master realised that he hasn't been doing right to you...Not with the courting and not with...anything else. 
The words made more tears burn in Eira’s eyes, while Feyre shifted to give her a gentle hug.
“He’s realising, huh?” she grumbled. “That he’s been screwing up?”
Yes. The shadows coiled a little tighter around her, almost as if they were trying to comfort her. It made her heart ache in a different way, feeling warm and painful at the same time.
Will you talk to him? the shadows asked softly. Let him apologise? 
She was upset, she was hurt. She didn’t want to talk to him. She wanted to avoid him and forget this whole mess even happened.
But the shadows...they wanted her to talk to him. They…wanted her to let him apologize.
Another wave of guilt and shame washed over her.
Azriel had done…nothing wrong. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he merely didn’t…care towards her.
He wanted the bond, he wanted the comfort, he wanted a mate, he just…he just didn’t want her .
The thought made a fresh wave of tears fill her eyes, which she promptly buried against Feyre’s shoulder.
Feyre hugged her tightly, while Nesta gently rubbed her back as the shadows continued to coil themselves around her. “It’s alright,” Feyre whispered soothingly, as more shadows drifted down to comfort her. “It’s going to be alright.”
The shadows continued to hum and shift, wrapping themselves around her like a protective, comforting blanket. It was somewhat soothing, the sensation of their coolness, the feel of them wrapping around her, almost like they were trying to tell her it would be alright.
Master has a lot to say to you, the shadows spoke up again. Please, just listen to him, Eira. 
So she just nodded.
Thank you. 
The shadows hummed again, coiling a little tighter around her, and it was almost as if she could feel a sort of pleasure coming from them that she had agreed to talk to Azriel, to listen to whatever he had to say.
"But they'll stay," she choked out, pulling Nesta's hand tight around herself.
“Of course,” Feyre said instantly, wrapping her arms around her as well. “We’ll both stay. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Damn right,” Nesta said, tightening her grip as well. “I may need to restrain myself from knocking any sense into him.”
In any other situation, Eira may have laughed at that, but instead, all she did was give a shaky nod, letting herself be pulled in tight by her sisters.
The gesture was comfort, the feel of them around her reassuring and warm, even as her heart ached in her chest.
A few seconds later, the door opened slowly, and Azriel walked into the room.
Every bit of his usually impassive, stoic demeanour was gone, replaced by a look of anxiety and worry. Eira could see the tension in his shoulders, and the way his hands were clenched into fists.
He stopped a few meters away from them, his gaze locking on Eira instantly.
She could feel his eyes raking over her, like a physical caress, taking in the sight of her clearly tear-stained face. The way her hands were being clutched by Feyre and Nesta.
He looked desperate like he wanted to walk over and touch her, but one glimpse at the way Feyre and Nesta had her wrapped in their arms had him hesitating.
"How...how are you feeling?" he asked her, and she could see his throat bob as he swallowed.
“How do you think she is, you idiot?” Nesta snapped, her voice low and cutting.
Azriel didn't pay any attention to her, his gaze firmly locked on Eira, staring at her as if he was waiting for her to say something.
And Eira…she had no idea what to say. She had absolutely no idea.
She sat there silently, letting words and thoughts and questions swirl in her mind, but saying nothing. And it only seemed to make the tension in Azriel’s shoulders grow even more, the worry in his gaze deepened.
“Eira…” he breathed out, his voice soft and raw, and she could see his hands twitch like he wanted to reach for her. “Can…can we talk?”
Both Feyre and Nesta tensed, their grip on her tightening.
"You can talk. She will listen," Nesta said, her voice icy. "And then she can decide if she wants to take pity on you, or if she never wants to see you again. Did you seriously tell my sister that Elain was prettier than her in the same breath as you asked to court her?!?"
Azriel closed his eyes, looking pained at that, and she could see his shoulders slump. But he didn’t deny it, didn’t try to defend himself, and Eira just…felt her heart ache even more.
"I was an idiot," he said quietly, his voice low and thick. "I…I was a fool."
He sounded so miserable when he said that, and something in Eira just…wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him that this was hurting her more than he seemed to comprehend…but she just sat there, saying nothing, letting the tears still fall silently down her cheeks.
Azriel took a few steps closer, his gaze still firmly fixed on her. He looked miserable, like a wounded animal, like he was in pain.
And a small part of her…a small, stupid part of her wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to tell him it was going to be alright, to hug him and tell him she wasn’t angry.
But it wasn’t going to be alright, and she was angry. So she said nothing.
The silence seemed to drag on, the tension rising thicker in the room. The two sisters held her tighter still, their hands clenched around her, their own gazes fixed on Azriel, shooting glares at him.
It made him look even more miserable, and she could see him taking another cautious step forward.
“Eira…” he tried again, his voice so soft and pleading. “Please, please say something…”
The silence seemed to drag on, the tension rising thicker in the room. The two sisters held her tighter still, their hands clenched around her, their own gazes fixed on Azriel, shooting glares at him.
It made him look even more miserable, and she could see him taking another cautious step forwards.
“Eira…” he tried again, his voice so soft and pleading. “Please, please say something…”
"What do you want me to say, Azriel?" she asked, her voice weak. She wanted to scream and shout but she didn't have it in herself.
"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to talk about how your mother had absolutely no clue that we are mates ? How she told me that you were fond of me but fonder of Elain? How it was just too bad that Elain was mated to another male?!"
She could see his body go tense at that, his eyes widening.
It hurt her, to see the realization and pain slowly spreading over his face. He knew what she had gone through, what she had to hear, the truth that his mother had revealed.
But he didn’t understand. He had absolutely no idea just how much all that had hurt her.
"I thought I was alright with it. I thought I could live with it. I could live with the fact that you didn't actually want me. That you wanted the life that vision promised you...that you were in love with my twin sister and not with me."
The words stung both Azriel and her.
She could see him shifting, and hear a low, pained sound leaving his lips. She could see something in his expression…a pain and hurt so deep she couldn’t even find the words to describe it.
"You…you think I don't want you...?" he breathed out, his voice so low she almost didn't hear it.
"You don't want me," Eira choked out. "You wanted Elain. And before that, you wanted Morrigan. And then Elain's vision promised you me and you go along with it, because of the mating bond."
Azriel flinched at that like each word was a physical blow. He looked sick, the misery on his face growing with each statement.
And a part of her was satisfied, seeing him look like that, seeing him look in pain. It was what he deserved after everything that he had done.
But the other part of her…the other part of her ached and bled at every expression of pain on his face.
The silence again continued to drag on, the air still and tense with the heavy atmosphere between the two of them.
He hadn’t denied it, she knew he hadn’t denied it. He hadn’t said that she was wrong, that she was wrong in thinking the only reason he pursued her was because of the bond.
The thought made her eyes sting, tears brimming and overflowing. Her heart ached, hurt, felt like it was bleeding.
"I am sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry, Eira."
The words stung, just as much as they gave her hope.
Her heart was aching in her chest, tears still falling slowly down her cheeks. Her shoulders trembled, and she took in a few shaky breaths.
She had been hurt by him. He had never even considered her before the bond had snapped. And he hadn’t denied it when she had called him out on it.
And still, she wanted him to fix this. Wanted him to find some way to fix this.
"I am not...I am not going and try to defend myself," he whispered. "I am not going and lie to you. And yes, Eira. I did see that vision and I felt that Mating Bond and I did want to pursue you. Because I want that future. I want that future with you."
She wanted that future with him as well, she longed for it, but she wanted him to come to her because he wanted her. Because he desired her, the vision be damned.
But instead, she came second fiddle to an image in a vision. Instead, she came last to Elain and Mor.
"And I went about it wrong," Azriel continued. "I should have...I should have actually made the effort to get to know you, Eira. I should have talked to you. I should have asked what you wanted. I should have asked for your favourite colour. And I should have..."
He trailed off, the words leaving him in a choked gasp. Eira could see the misery on his face, the suffering.
He looked completely miserable, his hands clenching into fists, his shoulders hunched and tensed, but he kept on going, his voice thick and low in his throat.
"I should have cared. I should have seen you. I should have noticed you."
"And I can't change it. I can't change what I did know. I fucked up, Eira. I fucked up so badly, that you have every reason and every right not to want to see me for centuries."
The words stung, and Eira just…she ached.
She ached, she hurt, and everything inside her had tears welling. She ached because…she wanted to forgive him. She wanted to give him a second chance.
But the thought of being second rate again, of being the last choice…it hurt.
But…she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, either. Couldn’t look away from the sight of how miserable he was, how distressed and in pain.
It hurt, it hurt so badly…but a part of her just wanted to hug him, to reassure him…Azriel took another few steps towards her, his eyes fixed on hers. He looked so wretched, his eyes pained, his whole body shaking as if it was taking him a monumental effort to remain standing there. To force himself to remain standing so close to her, to keep looking at her.
He was still a good few meters away from her, but the expression on his face, the look in his eyes…
It was like he was in agony.
She could see his hands clenching into fists, and could hear him taking a shaky breath.
"You…you don’t have to forgive me, or even want to talk to me again," he said, and she could hear how hard it was for him to form those words.
It hurt…it hurt seeing him look so miserable, looking like he was in pain. And it hurt because she wanted him. She still wanted him.
And the fact that it hurt was what got to her, what finally made her move. She shoved off Feyre and Nesta, who were still holding her, both of them looking startled.
They protested, clearly wanting to hold her back, but Eira pushed her way through, walking towards him.
Azriel hadn’t moved, his body going tense, his eyes going wide as she approached him.
And she hated that part of herself. She hated how much she still wanted him, despite everything that had happened. How much she ached for him, in ways that should be impossible.
It was a sharp, dull ache, a desperate and constant pain, a desire to reach out to him, to pull him closer, and at the same time, shove him as far away as possible.
She wanted to shove him away, push him further away. She wanted to tell him to suffer, to hurt the way she was hurting.
But at the same time…she wanted to pull him closer. To feel his skin against hers, under her fingertips. To feel his arms around her, holding her tight, his lips against her skin.
It was maddening. He was maddening.
“I am sorry,” he said, the truth flowing like clear spring water from his words. “I am so sorry. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
His words…she wanted to believe them. Wanted to believe that he was being sincere, that he truly was sorry, that he wanted to make it up to her.
And a small, naive, foolish, hopeful part of her, the part that was desperate and hopeful and greedy, did believe him. Wanted to latch onto the words, to hold them tight and not let go.
“I want to get to know you. I want to learn your favourite colour and your favourite place in Velaris. I want..”
He paused, taking a shaky breath. His eyes were still fixed on hers, pleading and desperate and aching, his entire body practically aching with the need to come closer.
“I want to learn everything there is to know about you. I want to learn about your smile and your laugh and your tears. I want to be with you, Eira.”
The words…they were everything that she wanted to hear. Everything that she had wished he would tell her, and more. They felt like a caress, like a gentle breeze, a soft comfort. And they hurt.
They hurt because she wanted to believe him, wanted to reach out and hold him close. Wanted to forgive him and let herself be close to him in the way she longed for.
“I want to be with you,” he repeated, his words a choked gasp. “I want to court you. I want to mate you. I want to…I want…”
He trailed off, choking on the words, taking another deep breath. His body was shaking, his shoulders tense, his expression aching with the effort of it all.
He looked in pain, so utterly hurt, like every word out of his mouth was agony. But he was still talking, still trying to get out the words, trying to make her understand.
“I want to spend every waking moment of my day with you,” he continued, his tone so raw and open and aching. “I want to wake up with you and go to sleep with you. I want to hear your voice and see your face every damn day.”
“I’ll do better, I’ll be better,“ he whispered.
He sounded so desperate, his voice thick and raw and pleading. It was like he was being ripped apart from the inside like he was in physical pain.
And Eira…she couldn’t help it.
She couldn’t help but believe his words, couldn’t help but let her stubborn, foolish heart hope.
“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking. “Please, please give me a second chance. I’ll…”
Another breath, another choked gasp. His shoulders hunched, his fists clenching tighter.
“I’ll do anything, just please give me a second chance. Give me the chance to right this. Give me the chance to prove to you…prove to you how much I want you. Just…give me another chance.”
His voice was so raw, so open, the look in his eyes pure pleading. He looked like he was ready to beg, ready to do anything for her. Anything to give him another chance.
And her heart, her foolish, stupid, hopeless heart…the part that wanted to hold onto him, to forgive him, to give him that chance ached.
She still hurt, still ached, the words from his mother still so fresh in her mind. The thought of being second, of being his last choice…it was a sharp blow against her.
But at the same time, she couldn’t stop the part of her that wanted to hold onto him. That longed for just a chance, just a moment where he was hers, where she was first and last and everything in his heart.
Azriel looked ready to continue, but he stopped when he saw the look on her face, her conflicting emotions warring inside her chest.
He closed his eyes, his shoulders dropping. He was probably expecting her to say no, to turn him down. He probably expected her to…
To do the sensible, rational thing. But sensibility and rationality were the last things she was feeling right now.
Her heart was aching, her body trembling, her emotions a swirl of conflicting feelings. Her mind was screaming at her, telling her just how idiotic she was for considering this.
And at the same time, her heart was yearning, longing for him. Wanting to grab onto him and never let go.
Azriel’s entire body was shaking, his eyes still closed, looking like he was bracing himself for her answer, for the words he expected her to say.
The words she should say, the words that would send him away, that would make her turn and walk away.
And yet…she found herself taking a step closer towards him. And then another.
She wasn’t even sure why she was doing it, why her body was moving before she even knew it, her mind screaming at her to stop and turn around and walk away.
But she kept moving towards him, each step sending a strange, giddy rush shooting through her, her heart aching and fluttering at the same time.
And she stopped in front of him, less than a foot of space separating them, her eyes fixed on his.
Azriel still hadn’t opened his eyes, his face tense and taut as if waiting for the blow to come.
But the blow never came.
Because Eira reached out, her fingers trembling as she reached up to touch his cheek.
Azriel's entire body jerked as if he had been struck, a gasp leaving his mouth. His eyes flew open, shock and surprise clear on his face.
But he didn’t move, didn't pull away or even flinch as her fingers made contact with his skin.
He just stood there, frozen as he stared at her.
Her hand trembled, her throat tight as she felt the warmth of his skin. His face was tense, his breath catching with every moment her fingers remained against his skin, like he was fighting the urge to turn his head and press his lips to her skin.
“Eira,” he breathed out, the word a whispered plea, a prayer. And then he seemed to realize he had moved, was on the edge of reaching out to her in turn.
But he caught himself, his hands hanging at his sides. He was holding himself back, holding himself from reaching for her…
And somehow, that made her even more determined, her decision stronger.
She wanted him to reach for her, wanted his hands on her skin, wanted him to hold her close and never let go.
She slid her hand along his cheek, her palm caressing his jaw. And she stepped even closer, closing the very last bit of distance between them.
They were so close, her body almost pressed flush against him. He was so warm, his body burning, and so large, like a rock, unflinching and steady against her.
She could feel him trembling, just barely holding himself back from wrapping his arms around her. His eyes were fixed on hers, longing and pleading and aching.
Her breath caught when she realized how closely she was pressed against him, how only a fraction of distance separated their bodies. She could practically feel his racing heart under her skin, hear every quick and desperate breath leaving his mouth.
He was breathing fast, ragged and sharp, every little inhale shuddering from his lips like a gasp. He looked like he was about to snap, his entire body visibly trembling like a taut thread on the edge of snapping.
“Don’t do it again,” she said softly. “I won’t…I won’t be able to go through it a second time.”
Her words seemed to hit him like a physical blow, his breath hitching in his chest. She could see the pain that flared on his face at her words.
“I-I won’t. I swear,” he responded, and his voice was so gentle, like he was talking to a wounded bird. “I swear on my life, I’ll never let you go through that again.”
He was holding himself back, every muscle and sinew in his body tense with the effort of it. It was like he was fighting the urge to pull her flush against him, to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight.
“I swear, Eira,” he repeated, his voice a low and achingly sincere promise. “I swear I’ll be better. I’ll be everything you need, anything you want.”
“The only thing I want is for you to be yourself. I want you. All of you.”
A choked gasp left his mouth, his eyes going wide. He looked almost stunned like he couldn’t quite process what she had said.
“I…you want me?” he asked, his voice rough and raw, filled with disbelief.
She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yes. I want you,” she confirmed, her voice firm and unwavering.
The words had a strange effect on him. It was like they had knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him looking completely awed and shocked.
He took another shuddering breath, his body trembling as he stared down at her. “You…you really still want me?” he asked his voice barely a whisper.
And just like that, the dam broke inside him. He reached out, pulling her flush against his body, his arms wrapping tight around her.
His head dropped to her shoulder, his body shuddering as he pressed his face against the crook of her neck. “I’ll do better,” he whispered, his voice ragged and raw and desperate. “I’ll be better. I’ll be the male you deserve. I promise.”
His body was shaking against hers, holding her tight like he was afraid she would disappear. He was breathing fast, hard and frantic, his chest rising and falling against her body frantically.
She could feel him shaking like a leaf, every muscle in his body taut and tense as he held her tight but oh so gently. And under that, she could feel his racing heart, beating so fast and intense that it was dizzying.
“I’ll be everything you need,” Azriel repeated, his lips moving against her skin, his words spoken in a low, ragged whisper. “I’ll be your male, your mate. I’ll never leave you, never hurt you or let you down again. I swear it, Eira, I swear it on my life.”
His fingers were digging into her skin, clinging to her so tightly that she could feel the slight, sharp pressure of his hands against her like he was trying to hold her to him, keep her as close as possible.
He was holding her so tightly that it should have hurt, but it only felt good. It felt like a comfort, a reassurance like he would never let her go.
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whimsyeo · 5 months
Text
this is where i want to be
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જ⁀➴ jung wooyoung x fem!reader
༄ aftercare with wooyoung ♡
wc; 760
cw; mdni, aftercare, references to sex, pet names, established relationship, they are so in love, just so soft, woo is a sweetheart :(
notes; not sure where this came from. just got a sudden craving for doting wooyoung providing aftercare<//3
🎧 heavenly & nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex
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As you lay on your bed, gentle hands wiping your legs clean, you slowly come to recognize the tune Wooyoung is humming. Heavenly. A smile tugs at your lips, your closed eyes crinkling at the sides from a feeling you can't contain. You know Wooyoung doesn't even realize it's something he does, and so consistently that to you it's just part of the routine that comes after sex. Maybe it's his unconscious need to fill the silence, or just one of his many way of keeping you grounded that comes so naturally. It certainly works wonders for easing your mind into a state of what can only be described at pure bliss. Unable to do much else but turn putty in his hands as he takes care of you in all the ways he needs to feel satiated after love making.
Intimacy with Wooyoung can be many things. Rough and fast, slow and gentle. This part never changes though. Him at the end of the night, cleaning you of your shared bodily fluids in the most careful way. He hums a light tune or places words of praise into your skin between scattered pecks the whole way through.
As the wash cloth reaches your core, you whimper at the sensitivity. Tonight had been one of the rougher nights, albeit no where near fast. No - Wooyoung took his precious time taking you apart, bit by bit. Somehow having more patience than you've ever seen from him when it came to edging you for what could've only been hours. And even when he finally let you come for the first time, it was only the beginning.
"'m sorry," Wooyoung all but whispers. His free hand, previously propping himself up on the bed, moves to rest comfortingly on your hip. "Does it hurt?"
You shake your head, eyes feeling much too heavy for how badly you just want to look at him, and be a witness to the affection you can clearly hear seeping into his words, "No. Jus' sensitive."
Your slurred speech bubbles a quiet laugh from his chest, and you absolutely have to force your eyes open to see the absolute vision before you. Jung Wooyoung is just that on any regular day. Now, he must be nothing short of a dream. Rested in between your legs for what is far from the first time tonight, this image causes a different feeling to swirl within your gut. His smile, his tousled hair, his reddened chest, neck, and face - no matter how many years it's been, he always manages to take your breath away.
The adoration you feel can only be satisfied by having him in your arms, right now. You can't stand it another second. Whining, you tug at his wrist weakly. Feeling too spent to explain yourself more but the pout forming on your lips is telling only to him. Only Wooyoung knows you this well, only he can make you feel like this, as if your chest might burst from having so close yet not close enough.
"Almost, baby," he placates, rubbing at your side. "I'm almost finished."
You don't argue. Too tired and too enamored to do much more than stare, at the small upturn to his lips and soft eyes. His own gaze rakes over your body as if you're the most precious thing in the world. To him, as he'll tell you time and time again, you are.
“Always so good for me,” he praises. You squirm, suddenly feeling shy in the absence of burning need but content and so very loved.
True to his word, Wooyoung puts the cloth aside after a few more minutes of quiet admiring. You open your arms, an irrefutable invitation that he gladly accepts. He falls into your awaiting embrace and goes boneless in an instant. You huff a laugh through your nose.
His presses a drawn out kiss against your neck, and you bury your face into his hair. Eventually you’ll both have to get up to take a proper shower, but you’re in no hurry. Wooyoung will likely become restless before long - making you get up to eat a snack and change the sheets so you can both sleep comfortably, but for now he seems equally fine with just this.
"I love you, Woo," You mumble into his hair. He shifts, holding himself up to look at you threw half lidded eyes with that same sunny grin as if he couldn’t be any happier. You think you’d live in this moment forever if you could.
"I love you more, angel.”
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metranart · 12 days
Note
hey, I know you probably busy and I’m sorry to bother you, but could you maybe make some headcanons of what hawks would do if y/n got pregnant?
You don't bother me at all, cutie. :) Here you have some cute little headcanons of our favorite birdie boy.
What Hawks would do if Y/N got pregnant? <3
Takami Keigo is not complicated, he wants as many chicks as he has fingers and toes, and he wants them all with YOU. 
You hadn’t thought about the subject but every time you’ve been at it … -it WAS unprotected. There was nothing to keep you from getting, round and heavy, with his child. And it wasn’t just once. Keigo could go for hours on end- he wouldn’t stop until he fucking collapsed on top of you, completely spent. “Sheesh, that-that was something else entirely, dove.” His smile bright enough to compete with the sun in the sky and win.
“If you get pregnant… I’ll be required to take care of you for the rest of our lives.” He shared all too proud of his deed, that look of adoration in his face, way too close to possessiveness. “—But one thing I swear, (Y/N). I’ll take care of EVERYTHING, you, them, us… All, you just watch me.” 
When the pregnancy test finally confirmed that his secret efforts had been fruitful, he nearly exploded with happiness, he carried you in his arms and your feet did not touch the ground again for the next forty minutes. 
“Dear god- you got even tighter.” Keigo’s voice sounded deeper, “So WET- my love, taking my time to preparing you first was more rewarding than I expected it’d be.” The lingering taste of you on his tongue nearly enough to get him off- “I’m LOVING this pregnant stage, don’cha?” 
The more your belly grew the more he glued to your side. All of the energy that in the past went into making the baby now goes into keeping you and his child happy and healthy. 
One morning, Keigo was looking at you with that unblinking, unreadable look of his, anxious you chewed at your lower lip before voice out your deeper doubts out loud. “I'm not a fan either-” his head cocks to the side, questioningly, and you suck in a nervous giggle, “-of my mom body.”
It would have been better if you slapped him, that would have been less offensive than what you just said. "I LOVE your mommy body, dove. I dream with your plump adorable tummy and all your mommy curves, all night long!" he stressed, ignoring your embarrassed giggles, in order to give a clear and firm statement, "... I'm even thinking about keeping you with that mommy body, all round and pretty and full of my chicks... how would that sound to you?" You shake your head, and he pouts playfully, your heart impossibly warm for him and his cute efforts which always work to make you feel better.
“Stop starin’.” You grumbled, cracking one eye open and staring at him, a tired grin ghosting your lips. “I can’t sleep with you watching me, Keigo.” The Hero grins, “Just checking that you were comfortable-” you shake your head, “For more than an hour?”
Keigo glanced downward at your stomach, a fond grin twisting the corner of his lips up as he imagined a little boy or girl, who looked everything like you- just with his last name, he asked for nothing else. The little one snuggled up in his arms as he read bedtime stories. He imagined teaching the child to ride a bike, to fly-… At this point, Keigo craved just for two things, domesticity and YOU… or just you, if it came to that.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He growled for the thousand time, though his hands stayed gentle on your round belly. “I love everything about you. Your imperfections are so mouthwatering, (Y/N). My favorite parts.” He managed to sound reverent, like a man speaking of his Deity. He would kiss the ground your feet touch if you let him but sometimes you are so restrictive with him.
Having you in his arms has become his favorite part of finishing his patrol, that little extra weight you've gained is mesmerizing, he could adore you for hours, that's why since he met you, he leaves some feathers hidden in your apartment when he must leave, that way he can at least be close, even when he's far away.
"Don't think I don't know what you do, birdie." You whine playfully and he laughs, "how long have you known?" you snort through your mouth, "since we've known each other." Keigo snickers widely, you are definitely his person, no one else could stand how mushy and clingy he can be, more than you, his adorable and pregnant, dove.
🔞➡️ MHA X Reader NSFW ART
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owliellder · 1 year
Text
The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 1: The Sketches
It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.
He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.
Younger agents. More energized agents.
The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.
Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.
Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.
Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.
Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.
Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.
It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.
What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.
He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.
And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.
So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.
The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.
It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.
Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.
How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?
Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.
But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.
The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.
Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.
The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.
After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.
Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.
It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.
He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.
As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.
There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.
The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.
The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.
But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.
About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.
The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.
"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."
Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.
"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.
"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.
The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."
From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.
Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.
He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.
While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."
Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.
The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."
Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.
The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.
He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.
"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.
The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."
The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?
"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."
A painting?
A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?
Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.
Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.
Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.
It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.
The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.
He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.
The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...
"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.
Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.
"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.
You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.
The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.
"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."
Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.
Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.
His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.
After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.
Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.
"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.
Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.
Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.
"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.
"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.
He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"
The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.
"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.
It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.
The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"
"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"
Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."
As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.
Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.
Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.
You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.
"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.
"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.
Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."
Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.
It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.
The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.
"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.
He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?
You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"
Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."
You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."
"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.
"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.
Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.
"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.
"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"
Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.
You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.
The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.
You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.
Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.
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lovelyhan · 1 year
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— ode to you ⟢
if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.
or: 25 lives in which you find and don't find jeonghan.
★ FEATURING; jeonghan x gn!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 6.9k words
★ TAGS; reincarnation, multiple lives, pining, angst, suggestive scenes but no smut, sooo many tropes
★ WARNINGS; mentions of blackmail, implied murder, implied depression, mentions of puking/vomiting, mentions of car accidents major character death
★ NOTES; i was supposed to work on my collab fics but i feel like i've gotten a little rusty w my prose so i wrote this as a little writing exercise of sorts :D i've written for other fandoms in this format before and i thought it was high time i did the same for seventeen with my ult of all ults <3 i hope you enjoy!
this is inspired by tongari's 25 lives
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★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti–red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon
★ JEONGHAN TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @bias-recs - @lunaryoongie
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01. the very first time i remember you, you are blonde and you don’t love me back.
One strict rule that you make sure to uphold with all of your clients is that business comes first before all else.
You're a well-known freelancer that lands gigs left and right from high-end fashion brands and magazines alike. The only way your career managed to survive in such a cut-throat industry is because of the strict professionalism you never failed to maintain.
That's until you meet Jeonghan for the first time.
Fluffy blonde hair framing his face, curling just along the edges. Slanted eyes that crinkle just a bit whenever he smiles. And a lazy grin that betrays just how nonchalant he is about the entire thing. Like he knows he's gorgeous he is and how everyone else in the vicinity is aware of the fact, too.
You've worked with a handful of people with breathtaking features in in the past, but there doesn't seem to be any word in any language that could encapsulate just how mesmerizing Jeonghan is.
For the first time in your career, you find yourself wanting to reach for the subject being captured by the lens of your camera. Just to make sure he was an actual person and not some doll crafted from fine silk and porcelain. The fact that he's modeling with a bouquet of lush flowers does little to your peace of mind.
But your innate professionalism overrules whatever nonsensical desires your sleep-deprived brain could conjure in that moment.
Once you're satisfied with the material you've come up with, you're quick to dismiss Jeonghan and the rest of the team, and call it a day. You have another shoot to oversee in less than two hours and you'd like to avoid the rush hour traffic if you can.
Yet, despite your urgency, you stop halfway to the door to the studio—casting a sidelong glance at the person who's supposed to be one of your temporary colleagues and none else.
"Jeonghan," you call out, his name tasting bittersweet on your tongue. "It was nice working with you today."
He barely glances up at you from the soft glow of his phone screen, not even a smile spared your way.
"Yeah, sure."
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02. the next time, you are brunette, and you do.
Yoon Jeonghan is the biggest menace you've met in your life.
Not only does he keep stealing your parking space in the office basement and plucks off the last brownie in the pantry during break time, but he's after the promotion you've been vying after for months, too.
Needless to say, he's public enemy number one in your eyes, and all your colleagues are well aware of the scorching rivalry you two constantly waged in the workspace.
But on the night before you're set to present the proposal that you swear up and down would make your superiors choose you over that sniveling prick, the Devil himself swoops into your cubicle with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Do you really not see it?"
You frown at him as you shove your laptop into your bag with an air of irritation. "See what? That they're going to select you for the promotion? I don't, actually. That's why I'm—"
The words promptly melt on your tongue when Jeonghan forces a hand on divider separating your space with the others—trapping you with a sleazy look on his face. His dark brown tresses fall across his piercing eyes but you force yourself to hold your ground.
In the midst of it all, a moment's worth of familiarity crosses your mind.
Blonde hair styled to perfection. A bouquet of flowers just as beautiful as the man that models for them.
How long has it been since then?
"Can't you see that I'm only doing all this to get your attention?" he chuckles. "I've always known you're a bit slow on the uptake, but you might need an extra push in the right direction."
You gulp nervously. "W-What's that supposed to mean?"
Jeonghan shakes his head, amusement dancing across his features in a way that makes you want to smack him, if not for the laws imposed on the land.
"Have dinner with me tonight and I'll withdraw from the competition" he propositions. "How's that sound?"
...Isn't this blackmail? It definitely sounds like blackmail.
But despite knowing that you should just bring your knee up to smash into his family jewels, your face heats up with the implications of his offer instead.
An offer that you begrudgingly accept.
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03. after a while i give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything.
"Really?"
Jeonghan grins when he steps into your apartment sporting his newest dye job. You're perfectly aware that idols these days get the most outrageous hair colors, but you didn't think his stylist would be daring enough to pull off long purple hair for Jeonghan just a few months after his group's debut.
Over the years, Jeonghan cycles through a lot more colors than you'd ever thought he'd be willing to try. Blonde, pink, red, brown, silver—all of them, he pulls off with grace.
Even when his idol days are over, he still gets bouts of wanting to march into the nearest salon for another makeover, and you rectify this by just buying the cheapest bleaching kits online despite his whines in protest.
"Our stylist noonas would've been alright with a house call." He pouts just a little as you force him to sit still. "It might come out all patchy."
"Do you have so little faith in your partner's bleaching skills?" you huff, dipping the brush you have in one hand into the bowl of sharp-smelling bleaching mix in the other. "Your stylists noonas charge a fortune, too. We're better off doing it ourselves."
Jeonghan laughs. "You act like we can't afford it."
Turns out, you fucked up the portions of your little bleach concoction and your harmless session resulted into googling first aid for bleaching burns and soaking Jeonghan's scalp with coconut oil for the rest of the day.
"Sorry," you mumble as you help rinse out the oil the next morning. "Do you want to contact your stylist or head to a salon instead?"
Despite your wary disposition, Jeonghan merely breathes out a chuckle, taking your hand in his as he meets your eyes in the bathroom mirror.
There, two rings glimmer in the morning light—the one he shares with his twelve brothers and the one you slid onto his index on the day of your wedding.
"I've been through worse, love. This is nothing," he insists before pressing a soft kiss across your knuckles. "Let's just let my scalp rest for a few days before we dye it, okay?"
You shake your head with a laugh. Really, what are you supposed to do with this man?
"If you insist."
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04. because even when you don’t exist, i'm still in love with you.
"You got my name wrong again."
In the middle of packing a takeout bag for the food delivery guy waiting in the corner of the café, you look up to some familiar college kid standing in front of the counter with a furrow on his brow. A regular, maybe.
"Sorry?" you ask, brain a little too frazzled to make sense of what he was trying to say.
Said college kid shows you the underside of his cup—the name Jeonghan scribbled hastily onto the material.
"My name's Jeongin," he sighs. "I've been coming here everyday and I swear, you always get it wrong."
"Well, I'm so sorry, Jeongin, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," you manage to wrench out before calling out to the delivery guy, saying the order was ready for pick-up.
Funnily enough, you end up living together with Jeongin by some twist of fate. Your shoes are lined up with his outside the apartment, toothbrushes lying in the same cup in the bathroom, and you even steal his hoodies every now and again.
But what you don't tell your boyfriend of five years is how you still dream of the man whose name brought you together in the first place.
A man who you don't get the pleasure to meet in this life, much like a dozen others that came before.
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05. i remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together
In the past (though its definition is a little...unique in your case), you were convinced that just because Jeonghan is the sole singularity to which your existence is anchored to, that doesn't necessarily mean you'll get to have him and him alone in each life.
Yet in this one, you're fully convinced that he's the only person who'll ever have your heart.
It's on a cold, winter afternoon when you realize that you're in love with the boy that showed you how to cross the monkey bars in elementary school. The boy who gives you his packed lunch whenever you forget yours at home. The boy who taught you how to pick locks so you could sneak into his father's liquor shop and get drunk behind the counter.
Jeonghan has always been a fascinating person in whatever life you meet him. But now that you've got a taste of what it feels to grow up alongside him—witnessing him transition from a snotty kid to a troublesome adult—you can't picture yourself wanting anyone else.
He's rightfully startled when you confess your feelings merely minutes after having realized them. You've lived through this endless cycle of meeting and parting ways enough times to know that there's no room for uncertainty.
And each time he accepts you with open arms, the relief that washes over you feels like the first time all over again.
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06. when i share my secrets and sorrows and hiding places with you.
There are times when you're the one who doesn't remember the lives you've lived in the seemingly endless cycle.
When you meet Jeonghan in this life, it's with shoulders carrying the weight of emotional baggage and dreams that have been crushed right before your eyes. It's an understatement to say that you're inexplicably drawn to him as if he's a beacon in the dark. But even if you're yet to remember, Jeonghan has always been easy to trust. Easy to fall into.
One night is particularly heavier than the rest. Your meds aren't kicking in the way they're supposed to and it's raining much too harshly to pay your comfort person a late night visit.
Yet when you call your boyfriend as you choke on your own tears, he's at your door in half an hour—paper bags full of all your favorite snacks in hand with a smile that feels like a ray of sunlight amidst a raging storm.
But he's quick to drop all of it and pull you into a hug when he sees the mess you are in the living room.
"I'm a bad person," you sob into his chest, clinging to the fabric of his jacket as he placates you in his tender embrace. "I'm s-selfish and always just think about myself. I've done so many terrible things, Hannie... How could you even love someone like me?"
Jeonghan doesn't answer right away. He calms you down for the better part of an hour before rising to get you a glass of water in the kitchen. Your boyfriend watches with quiet attentiveness until the look on your face tells him that you're ready to talk again.
"So what if you're a bad person, love?" he murmurs before planting a kiss on your forehead. "Tell me every terrible thing you did and let me love you anyway."
Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh. "Which cheesy pocketbook did you pull that one out of?"
"Hey, I drove for thirty minutes in the rain and this is how you thank me?" He huffs before reaching for a bag of chips he haphazardly strewn across the coffee table, tearing it open and offering you a piece. "I read that on Pinterest, by the way."
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07. i love how you play along with my bad ideas
In many, many lives, Jeonghan is not yours to love.
And that's okay. There isn't a fine print stating that because you're blessed (cursed?) to meet him in each lifetime, you're meant to be together against all odds.
Fate is fickle like that—so unpredictable that you never really know how to act whenever you do cross paths with Jeonghan eventually.
Still, even if you're not destined to be lovers, you can still love him in other ways.
Like helping him sneak out of his third period lecture so he can come watch local street performers hold a fundraising show in some underground bar. You do all this because he once told you that he wanted to support them in any way he could.
If only Jeonghan could see the grin on his face that gets wider with each dancer that takes the stage, he wouldn't have a hard time wondering why it was so easy to fall in love with him.
"So when's the next time you'll help me sneak out of a lecture?" Jeonghan asks as the two of you head back to campus at a mellow pace even if Jeonghan's next classes starts in ten minutes.
You hum as if genuinely contemplating. "Maybe after you do me a huge favor in return for this one."
Your shoulders bump together as he lets out an easygoing laugh. As the late afternoon sunlight filters through a canopy of trees and onto your best friend's face, you feel a tug at your heartstrings that urges you to pull him in for a kiss.
But you don't.
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08. before you grow up and realize that they’re bad ideas.
"Are you sure this is safe?"
Jeonghan's voice sounds considerably spooked when the amusement park staff locks in the over-the-shoulder restraints. The buzz of excitement from other visitors rings in your ears and he seems to be the only person that isn't looking forward to being on a rollercoaster.
"You act like this is the first time you've been on one." You roll your eyes. "Just relax and feel the wind on your face, yeah? If it gets too much just hold my hand or whatever."
You should not have offered in the first place because by the time the you've made two trips around the wildly looped tracks, you're convinced Jeonghan has already cut any and all circulation to your fingers with how tightly he's gripping your hand.
But still...you can't deny that it feels a little nice to be needed by him.
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09. (and in our lives together i have many, many bad ideas.)
“Do I know you?” 
Jeonghan makes the mistake of blurting out those very strange words when he catches you sitting right next to him at the bar. You startle when he breaks the ice, fully convinced you're the one who had to initiate when you deliberately slid into the stool to his right.
Amused, you study him without much of a real expression before the tension in your posture melts into gentle laughter.
“No,” you say with a tone that suggests you're making fun of him. “But we could get out of here so we can get to know each other better. What’s your name?”
A dozen expressions flit across Jeonghan's face in mere seconds and you would've laughed again if you didn't know the reason behind the perplexity of his reactions.
“It’s Jeonghan. But you can call me…”
Before he can get the rest of the pick-up line out, he promptly throws up all over your outfit.
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10. when we meet as adults, you're always much more discerning. I don't blame you.
"Again."
Your sweat beads across your forehead and drips onto the floor as you catch your breath. Palms braced across your knees, you look up to your mentor with a resentful glare.
In this life, Jeonghan—who was considered part of the 'anemic line' in his group eternities ago—is now one of the most well-known choreographers in the industry and would probably put Soonyoung to shame with how much of a perfectionist he is when it comes to your routines.
"Can't I get a five-minute water break?" you plead.
"You can get one when you think you deserve it," he says flatly before crossing his legs. "Do you?"
Much to your chagrin, you're just as much of a perfectionist as he is in this life. You shake your head with a guttural sigh, forcing yourself back into position despite your muscles aching for a break.
You don't miss the way Jeonghan smiles at your display of determination, but you don't let yourself think much of it either.
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11. yet, always, you forgive me.
Jeonghan is upset with you.
He has all the right to be, really. You promised that you'll leave enough candy bars from your Trick or Treat haul to last both of you for a week, but you ended up overeating while binging your afternoon cartoons and now there's only one stick of chocolate left in the hollow, pumpkin-shaped bucket.
"I'm sorry," you murmur. "Do you want to go to the candy store to buy some more? I can break my piggy bank if—"
"No, you're saving up for that new game on your Nintendo DS, right?"
The fact that he actually remembers that makes you gape at him. "Um, yeah, but it's no big deal. A candy bar is only worth a few—"
Not giving you any leeway to speak any further, Jeonghan grabs the last candy bar inside the bucket—tearing the packaging open with his teeth before breaking the chocolate in half in the middle. Despite his annoyance, he hands you the other half with a small pout.
"Then just keep saving up so we can play it together," he grumbles and even when he's barely eight years old, it comes so natural for him to show you how much he cares about you.
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12. as if you understand what’s going on
"Do you go here often?"
You flash the stranger who's speaking to you a befuddled look—not expecting to hear a line typically used on you in bars at your father's yacht club, of all places. He's wearing tattered jeans and an atrocious pink flannel over an equally tattered shirt. You wonder if he's just going for an odd aesthetic or if he's in dire need of a closet makeover.
"No. I'm just waiting for my father," you tell the man honestly before glancing at the boats docked by the pier. "He bought another yacht that I'm sure he won't even think of after bragging about it to his friends."
The stranger laughs. "I know how you feel. My old man's just as materialistic as yours sounds."
Oh. Maybe he is just going for an odd aesthetic with his fit after all.
"Wouldn't have thought you were a nepo baby, too," you snort before kicking a lone pebble into the water—watching it sink into the depths until it's out of sight. "I thought you were one of the boys that maintain these things while their owners completely forget about them."
"Hmm, I can be anything you want me to be," he chuckles and even if you've only met this guy five minutes ago, something about his laughter sounds so oddly familiar.
"The name's Jeonghan, by the way." The not-so stranger smiles and the feeling that you know him from somewhere intensifies tenfold.
"What's yours?"
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13. and you're making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn't exist
You like to think of yourself as an independent person.
You've crossed literal lifetimes in the strangest rendition of immortality that you've never once read in all the books you've deigned to pick up in this never-ending eternity. It's only natural for you to be self-sufficient.
But when it comes to Jeonghan, you always get to refamiliarize yourself with what it feels like to be lonely.
There are things about him that you consider irreplaceable: the curve of his easygoing smile, the warmth of his slender fingers, and the touch you yearn for constantly.
You're perfectly aware that you don't need Jeonghan for all these lives to gain some semblance of meaning. In fact, it's in the lives where you don't meet him that you get to learn a thing or two about yourself.
But when he is there, when he's the reason you get out of bed everyday, you simply think that a second of being with Jeonghan in the flesh is worth more than a lifetime in his absence.
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14. and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.
Your phone is pressed into your ear in the middle of the grocery store because your good friend Joshua thought it was the perfect time to rant about his insufferable boss.
Being the lovely person that you are, you let him talk your ear off as you parse through the cabbages on display—wondering which one you should bring home for salad night.
"He's such a fucking prick, you know?" Joshua groans out the same sentence for the third time since you picked up his call. "No wonder his wife is having an affair behind his back. That's karmic retribution if I've seen it.''
"Shua, have you ever considered just resigning instead of making me your therapist?"
"I have, it's just that finding a new job is way more of a hassle than dealing with my asshole boss everyday," he grumbles. "But about the therapist thing—thanks for always listening to me. I know I can be annoying at times but you always put up with it any..."
Joshua's voice fades into the backdrop of your mind when you spot a flash of pink in the corner of your eyes. You instinctively turn your head in the direction of a stranger running towards the exit of the supermarket—wearing an atrocious pink flannel that you would recognize anywhere in any lifetime.
You briefly apologize to Joshua before ending the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your jeans before leaving your push cart to chase after the figure receding from your line of sight.
You just barely catch him hopping onto a bus when your instincts lead you to further outside. You would have sprinted for a ride, had it not been for the children that obstruct your path with a little game of tag.
By the time you finally shake them off, the bus has already driven past the intersection—snuffing out the candle, leaving you in the dark.
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15. i hate those. i prefer the ones in which you kill me.
You've watched a dozen serial killer documentaries in your lifetime—well, lifetimes. They always start the same way: a psychopath with a way with words charming his next unsuspecting victim into their utter demise.
While you absolutely did not know that this life's Jeonghan will turn out to be a crazed lunatic that gets off on seeing another human being's blood on his hands, it doesn't really change the fact that your heart is still tethered to him despite.
He still smiles as sweetly as you can remember as the tip of his knife glides along the column of your throat. His voice is just as comforting in those lives where he'd never forget to kiss you good night right before going to sleep.
"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Jeonghan murmurs. "But you'd be so much prettier if you just lay still."
The last thing you remember seeing is the angelic look on his face as if he's the one who'll personally escort you to the next life.
You don't particularly mind.
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16. but when all's said and done, i'd rather surrender to you in other ways.
It's only amidst the post-orgasmic clarity that you realize how much of a fool you are.
These quick trysts you share with Jeonghan are brief. He invites you over under the guise of something that isn't sex for the sake of propriety, only to pull you into his apartment and kiss you until stars danced behind your eyelids.
He's flicks the cigarette he's having on the ashtray as he complains about a coworker he's been trying to get with for the past month. She likes playing hard-to-get, but I like her so much that I don't really mind? Is that weird? Oh, do you want a smoke, too? Sure, let me light you a quick one in a sec—
You're a fool because you've spent dozens, if not hundreds of lives chasing after him—whether you yourself are aware of it or not.
To Jeonghan, this is a life he probably won't remember in the next. To you, it's another inescapable death sentence.
"Maybe you should drop the nice guy act," you suggest before taking a drag of your own—not caring how the ashes stain Jeonghan's crisp white sheets despite his protests. "Showing your true colors is what got you to land me, you know."
"And we all know how much of a catch you are." He winks before killing his cigarette on the ashtray.
You're about to respond with an eyeroll until he plucks the cancer stick off your hands as well, disposing of it the same way he did with his own. When Jeonghan maneuvers himself on top of you again, you let out a withering sigh.
"Maybe I should just date you instead," he giggles before leaning down to nip at your ear, slender arms coiling around your waist. "What do you think?"
"You already told me before that I wasn't your ideal partner, asshole," you remind him with a huff.
Jeonghan hums, a noncommittal sound that seems like there's something else layered underneath. "But what if I told you that already changed?"
It's enticing—the possibility of getting to have him again when you couldn't really call him yours right now. But you know better than to take things that aren't meant for you.
At least, not in this life.
"Stop saying silly things and just fuck me already," you grumble, already tugging off his boxers. "Then you'll delete my number right after so you can finally get with the woman of your dreams. Got that?"
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17. even though each time, i know i'll see you again, i always wonder
You've always looked forward to summer.
No more grueling classes. No more deadlines to catch up on. Summer means you get to go back to your hometown for a few weeks, unwinding in ways that your usual schedules don't quite permit you to.
Summer also means you'll get to visit Jeonghan again.
Your mother already has food and flowers prepared in advance—saying Mrs. Yoon kicked up a huge fuss when she found out you were going back home this weekend. You receive the news with fond laughter, noting how the flowers Jeonghan's mother picked out are reminiscent of the ones he held in the very first life you met him.
"I'm graduating next year," is the first thing you tell Jeonghan when you arrive, popping open two ice cold sodas before settling yourself on the grass in front of him. "Can you believe it? Four years of college, just gone in a flash. If you actually went through with your performing arts scholarship, you'd know how I feel."
"I'm thinking of getting a job here instead of the city. You know, so you won't feel too lonely without me," you chuckle, the moisture of your drink beading across your fingers. "Although, your sister keeps insisting that they give you plenty of company already and that I should chase after my own dreams first. She's starting to sound a lot like you, you know that?"
Jeonghan doesn't respond. Of course he doesn't. But you can almost hear his stilted laughter in the warm breeze anyway.
You place the flowers and the cola in front of his gravestone with a bittersweet pang in your chest. But before the tears can get the chance to escape, you turn on your heel and leave the cemetery altogether.
You didn't always look forward to summer after the accident that took the love of your life away. But knowing that your best friend—your soulmate—would simply be waiting for you in the next life, things became much, much easier.
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18. is this the last time?
"Don't go..."
Jeonghan murmurs the words between drunken hiccups as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You chuckle, smoothing your hand across his sweater-clad back as he clings to you like a koala.
"Hannie, what do you mean?" you whisper as you glance at the mess of empty bottles you'll have to clean up from the coffee table once you put your boyfriend to bed. "I'm not going anywhere."
He pulls away from you briefly, puffy eyes glistening with tears as he lets out a shuddering sigh.
"I had a dream that you left me for some guy named...Jeongin, or whatever," he mumbles. "I promise I'll treat you better than anyone else. Just don't...leave me."
In some way, he remembers. Not everything because even you don't completely recall all the lives you've lived. There's too many of them now, most of which are too painful to think about all over again.
But this is the first actual instance where Jeonghan unknowingly hints that his past lives stay with him even beyond death, and it makes you wonder if he'll start to remember the others in time as well.
"I won't, Hannie," you whisper, weaving the words into a promise that you'll be sure to keep in the next life, and the hundreds of lives that will inevitably follow.
"I won't."
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19. is that really you? 
There are lifetimes where you try, but it just doesn't work out.
Sometimes, fate carves both you and Jeonghan into mismatched pieces of two different puzzles, and he doesn't even try to convince you to stay as you quietly pack away your belongings in dull brown boxes. The tension in your movements tells him that you knows he's watching.
"I'm not getting back together with you, if that's what you're wondering," you rasp. "If you love your job more than me, then I'll be the one to see myself out." 
Jeonghan manages a sad smile that you completely miss—having been so caught up with your frustration with him to look. You thought that in each life he ends up becoming a world-famous idol, it meant that he'd also live all of his days with you by his side.
But things aren't always that simple, and Jeonghan merely stands in resignation as you shut the door to both his house and your heart. 
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20. and what if you're already perfectly happy without me?
When you took up a job as an events coordinator, never in your wildest dreams did you expect to be planning Jeonghan's wedding, of all things.
He doesn't seem to remember you and you don't really fault him for not recognizing someone he's met literal lifetimes ago. Not when he's obviously so enamored with his current fiancé.
"We were interested in the deluxe package on your website," Seungcheol, his intended, breaks the ice after the formal introductions, showing you a screenshot on his phone. "Is this inclusive of a lights and sound system or will we have to outsource those somewhere else?"
You nearly miss what Seungcheol was asking you—too caught up in how beautiful Jeonghan looks today. He's grown out his hair longer than he usually does and it's half pinned behind his head.
When it takes you a while to respond, both his and Seungcheol's gazes flicker with confusion before your heart sinks with how in tune they are with each other.
"Y-Yes, lights and sounds are already included in the package." You compose yourself with a warm smile. "But you might be interested in the royalty package. This would give you access to..."
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21. ah, but i don’t blame you.
"Baby, I'm sorry."
Jeonghan looks like a kicked puppy sitting at the side of the hospital bed with how apologetic he is. You want to tell him that it really is no big deal but with the lower half of your body temporarily paralyzed, you can't really say that's the case.
"I shouldn't have insisted that you come to the music show when it was raining," he groans. "It's a miracle you managed to swerve out of the truck's way."
You wonder if he remembers the life where you lost him to an accident not so different from the one you narrowly escaped last night. The absolute fear in his eyes the moment he saw you covered in casts and bandages is reminiscent of the time you received the phone call informing you of your boyfriend's passing.
But you don't make it a habit to ponder too long about lives that have long come to an end. What's important is now, where you're still living and breathing and able to remain by his side.
"It's not your fault, Hannie," you murmur as you reach out to pet his head with some difficulty. "I shouldn't have gone past the speed limit in the first place."
"Well, you wouldn't have to do that if I wasn't being so pushy about you showing up," he sighs in defeat. "Tell you what, I'll pull out of all our comeback schedules until you can walk by yourself again."
You frown at him. "What? No! Your managers are going to kill you."
"They will, but knowing you'll be all alone while you recover will kill me inside too."
Jeonghan isn't usually this cheeky with you, so you keep this memory tucked away in your consciousness for as long as you can. Knowing there's no talking him out of it once he's got his mind set, you shake your head with a defeated sigh.
"You better take care of me like they do in those five star nursing homes then."
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22. i’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. 
Your favorite lives, you think, are the ones where he lights up the stage and the entire world as an idol.
He's happiest in these kinds of lives. The bond he shares with the rest of his bandmates transcends even the love you've harbored for him through lifetimes, and if there are people you'll gladly surrender Jeonghan to, it's those twelve boys that will always be his brothers no matter what.
"How was that?"
You're in the middle of giving out stage directions for the next round of performers when Jeonghan walks up to you with his signature, lazy smile. He's sweat-stricken with a stutter to each breath he takes, but he makes himself appear just as composed as he wants you to think.
"Breathtaking as always, Jeonghan," you decide to humor him—knowing that the sooner you give him a compliment, the sooner he'll leave you alone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to—"
"Will you be busy after the show? I wanted to cook dinner for us at home."
A panicked look seizes your face when you gesture for him to keep it down. Your eyes dart around the vicinity—idols and their stylists running around backstage in preparation for the next segment of the show. None of them seemed to have picked up on Jeonghan's little slip of the tongue.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" you whisper sharply over the sound of another fellow stage director paging you in the south entrance. "Anyways, I have to go, Hannie. And please don't go blabbing about our relationship where you shouldn't."
When that idiotically handsome smile doesn't fade from his lips, you know things won't exactly go your way as usual.
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23. it's only fair that i should be the one
At some point, you stop counting altogether.
The lives you live with and without Jeonghan blend seamlessly into each other the longer the cycle repeats itself. It doesn't hurt as much when you don't find him, but your heart still gushes with relief when you do.
And yet there are instances where you try to spit in the face of fate itself. Instances where you decide that you don't want to be chained to Jeonghan anymore. That the lives you live belong to you and that you won't let some otherworldly force dictate the course of it any longer.
One day in the summer, in some petty attempt to cheat your way out of fate, you decide to date your next door neighbor.
Sujin has the same eyes as Jeonghan—it’s something you can’t really look past. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy for her to wear down your defenses without breaking a sweat.
But the moment the thought crosses your mind, you wipe out every similarity until you can’t see them anymore. They almost look the same apart from gender, but Sujin is so different from Jeonghan, that for a while, you forget about the burden you've been carrying all this time.
One day in the fall, Sujin talks about meeting her brother for dinner, and you don't really ponder about it—agreeing without a hitch.
But that’s only the first of your many mistakes because the man who walks into the restaurant is Jeonghan. Sujin’s brother, the person who’s kissing your girlfriend on the cheek, is Jeonghan. 
“Did you know that Sujin never shut up about you when you brought her the housewarming gift?” Jeonghan snorts before ordering a glass of wine. “Hmm, you look kind of familiar, though… Have we met before?”
“No,” you respond almost instantly.
It doesn’t work. Your master plan of waging war with destiny is rendered utterly useless when Jeonghan bruises his way back into your life. Where Sujin managed to ease herself past the walls you've put up after a few weeks, Jeonghan tears them down in half the time his sister took to pick you apart. 
One day in the winter, Sujin breaks up with you, and in spite of the coil of emotions twisting in your chest, you watch her pack her things and move back into the apartment across the hall. 
One day in the spring, there’s a knock on your front door that you're in no hurry to answer. You stare at Jeonghan with equal parts irritation and relief when you see him there. His grin reminds you of flowers unfurling as he stares back with a challenge in his eyes.
A challenge you loathe, but one you can never refuse.
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24. to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes
“Don’t you ever get tired?”
Your head is resting on Jeonghan's lap when he poses the question, and you think the fact that your eyes are closed is already an answer on its own.
You used to think you were cursed. Maybe you've incurred enough bad karma in your very first life to provide you with a steady stream of misfortune in the next few million lives you're destined to live.
That could be the reason why you have to live all these lives, meet all these people—rinse and repeat. Is this how the gods are punishing you? Is there anyway to atone for sins you can't even remember committing anymore?
Though…when you open your eyes and see Jeonghan staring out into the distance, you have a hard time thinking of him as a punishment. 
You sit upright and stretch out your limbs. There’s a kink in the back of your neck that might be resolved by a good night’s sleep, but you offer Jeonghan a hand before you can think about it any more.
“No,” you answer as you twines your fingers together, pulling him back to his feet as he spares you a loving smile.
“Not really.”
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25. until i find the one where you'll return to me.
"That bouquet's really pretty."
Jeonghan glances behind him with a confused look—frustration clear on his face from trying to get the new stove he had installed in your kitchen last week to start. When his eyes land on the beautiful spill of flowers bundled up in a vase on the dining table, his features soften with fondness.
"Those are the flowers I had when you met me the first time, right?" he chuckles before taking a seat next to you. "The one where I was a 'prick of a model who wouldn't even bat you an eyelash'?"
Your chest bubbles with laughter at his description. You've grown more and more comfortable with telling Jeonghan about the lives you've shared in eternities that have long unspooled, and just when you feared he'd treat you like someone who escaped an asylum, he instead took all your words to heart.
He doesn't quite remember them all on his own, but when you bring up little pieces from old memories you do manage to dredge up, he's able to complete the pieces of the story to form a coherent picture.
Maybe that's what Jeonghan is to you—someone that isn't exactly necessary to have in your life, but someone who makes it infinitesimally better.
If there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that Jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. He can be crass. He can be secretive. He can be nothing short of vexing.
But he can also be kind, considerate, and present in times when you need him the most.
In the end, he's everything you need him to be.
And you couldn't ask for anything more.
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⟢ end notes: me: this is a writing exercise, the word count: pushing 7k :') ok so this wasn't proofread even in the slightest so if you spot any mistakes and errors, no you didn't <3 thank you for joining me in this very self indulgent train of delusion!
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patscorner · 2 months
Text
What Love Broke
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Summary: You and your girlfriend go through a rough patch
wc: 2,144
Contains: angst, couple kisses, reader petty asf
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You don't exactly remember what started the argument, but you knew it had escalated far more than it should've.
“I'm just saying- it's so unfair how you can't manage to come to a single one of my games when I've been to every one of yours!”
“Oh, I'm sorry that I'm busy with actual things to do. Maybe if you played an actual sport, I'd come to one!” Neshy shouted back at you, her accent thick.
Things have been tense for a while between you and Ines, the stress of your upcoming softball tournament and her basketball tournament stopping you from seeing each other. The wall between you two was built by two people who were so in love that it was painful.
Now here you both are, arguing in front of your closest friends, desperately trying to hold onto the last string that connected your hearts.
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
Ines’s face flashed a twinge of regret, but quickly recovered. “Nothing, look-”
“No, I fucking knew it! I knew that's why you never came to games. You weren't busy, you just didn't fucking care!”
The evening started fine, some of the team gathering in Paige’s dorm to hang out before practice the next morning. Ines had been unusually cold, and everyone noticed her icy demeanor. It was embarrassing for you, so you tried to subtly ask if you'd done something, only to be met with the same frozen heart.
You tried to let it go, but as the night went on, you’d had enough. You had dragged her into a separate room in an attempt to fix whatever you had broken.
Which led you to now, the pair of you, face to face, shouting at each other.
“I care! All I do is care! You're so fucking ungrate-”
“Bullshit, Neshy!” You ran your hand over your face, a weak attempt to calm yourself.
“How can you call me ungrateful when all-”
“Because, with all I do in this relationship, you don't do anything to match it!” her accent ringing through the air thickly.
“With all you do?!! What about all the time I've put in?! All the time spent watching your fucking games, instead of doing homework of my own! All the times I've stayed up going to games, then going to an afterparty, just to watch you get drunk!” your voice shakes at this, but it doesn't matter, not to her anyway.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was such an inconvenience for you to support your girlfriend!” Ines had been pacing this whole time, clearly overwhelmed, and normally you'd respect it. You drop it and pick it up later, but this time, this time, she was gonna listen to what you had to say.
You scoff out a dry laugh. “It's not an inconvenience, Ines, it's just not reciprocated. And until you figure that out, don't bother coming.” You turn to face the door, tired of this argument, tired of fighting, tired of this.
“So that's it?! We're gonna leave it like this?!” She asked, her voice carrying a different kind of weight to it.
“I'm tired, Neshy. I can't keep fighting you like this.” You say spinning around.
She's quiet for a bit, clearly thinking of where to go from here. You can almost hear her thoughts, her face flipping through emotions, until she picked one. The same one she's had all day.
“Don't come to any of my games, then.” She hissed out.
Your heart stuttered, but you didn't let her see that. “Okay.” Is all you say before you turn around and leave, closing the door behind you.
You walk out, finally allowing the tears to fall before remembering you weren't in your own dorm, meeting the eyes of your girlfriend's teammates.
Their eyes carry pity and sympathy as they reach yours.You wipe your eyes before grabbing your phone and mumbling a goodbye.
It's a day before the game between Uconn and Syracuse, the second round of the NCAA Tournament. It's been 3 days, 13 hours, 6 minutes, and 40 seconds (but who's counting) since you've talked to Ines. During those painful hours, you've left your dorm once. One to return a notebook to Paige that you'd borrowed for math help.
You'd seen your girlfriend around campus a couple of times, but quickly avoided her gaze. Your entire goal was to cool off before you went to the game the next day, but that plan failed when you returned to your dorm to your room unlocked.
At first, you panicked, but when you saw Ines in the kitchen, you let out a breath of relief. You set your keys on the counter and your bags on the floor.
“What're you doing here?” You ask softly.
She yelps, putting her hand on her chest. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me.”
“Sorry.” you mumble.
“It's okay.”
The silence between you both is not the comfortable one you were used to. This silence was loud, filled with the unspoken words of your hearts. You stare at your feet, avoiding the intense gaze from Neshy.
“What're you doing here?” You repeat.
“I-I, uh, left my jersey here. I didn't think you'd be home soon.” she whispers the last part.
You raise your eyebrows. “So that's why you're in my kitchen?”
Her eyes widened. “Wha- oh, uh. I jus- I noticed your Brita was out of water, so I was just filling it up.”
Your heart shattered. Even after all the fighting you two have done, she still shows that she cares.
You nod. “Thank you, that's- that's very sweet.”
She just hums in acknowledgement, before grabbing her jersey off the counter and heading for the door. You watch her as she turns around to you.
“Are you coming to the game?”
“Oh-uh. I don't know.” You whisper.
“Please.” She begs.
“Neshy.”
“Jus- think about it. Please. I need you there.”
You sigh. “I'll see.”
“Okay.” She opens the door, but turns around and walks back towards you, pulling you into her chest by your waist.
Her lips interlock with yours briefly, a silent plea for you to go.
“I love you.” she whispers.
“I love you, too.” you smile sadly.
And with that, she walks out and closes the door behind her.
Tomorrow comes sooner than you wish, and so does the game. After careful consideration, (and a long conversation with Nika) you decide to go to the game. Even though you were still upset, and the relationship was far from fixed, Ines was your girlfriend, and you were going to support her, regardless of hurt feelings. Plus, you were still friends with the rest of the girls, and wanted to support them as well.
You still didn't want to talk to Neshy, and you made it a goal to avoid her at all costs. At that point, you knew you were being petty, but you didn't care.
Uconn won the game, Ines scoring three 3s and getting a crucial steal at the end of the third quarter. Even though her head was elsewhere, she played well. As you sit in the stands, you help but feel disappointment. She never cared enough to come to one of your games. She never experienced being in the stands, cheering on her girlfriend like you had. She had no idea what that was like and didn't seem to care to find out. Regardless, you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride for her. You considered staying and waiting for her, like you usually do. You were undoubtedly happy for her, but she hurt you. You wanted to stay. You wanted to hug her and whisper her congratulations. You wanted to kiss all the angry words you'd exchanged away. That's what you wanted.
But what you needed to do was protect your peace. You needed her to care. You needed 50-50, not 75-25. You needed change. Something had to change.
Your heart fought with your feet as you walked out of the stadium, nobody stopping you.
A knock sounded startled you awake. You groaned as you rolled over, ignoring the interruption of your sleep. Well, you tried, but it didn't work, as whoever it was, knocked again. You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, cursing whoever woke you up at– you check your phone –3:23am.
You swing the door open, to see none other than your girlfriend, and boy, did she look pissed. Her eyes were red and puffy, and bags stark against her pale skin.
“Where were you?” She demands.
“Ines, it's three thirty in the fucking morning. Do you really want to do this right now?”
“You seriously didn't come? I thought you'd be mature enough to put one stupid fight behind us, but you clearly aren't. Like, I'd love to hear the reasoning.”
“Neshy-”
“No, no, actually, never mind. I don't wanna hear whatever your bullshit excuse would be.”
“Ines.” she was spiraling right in front of you, and it was the hardest thing for you to watch.
“I don't even know why I came here. You probably don't even have a good reason. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot.” She rambles. “I can't do this, goodnight.”
And with that she walked away. You contemplated letting her go. She told you what she was thinking, and she seemed pretty sure of herself. But you shook your head, clearing them of those thoughts. She didn't mean it, and you both knew that. You knew that if you let her leave, she might not ever come back.
You stepped out of your dorm in your her large tee-shirt and sweats. “I was at the game.” You call after her. She pauses before looking back at you. She'd made it halfway down the hall at that point. Damn that athletic speed.
“W-what?” Her eyes twinkle with surprise and her eyebrows furrow.
“Come inside.” You say, moving to make room for her in the doorway. You watch her as she walks back to you, pausing for a moment, seemingly looking for permission. The politeness is foreign to you, but you respect it.
You nod before following her inside. She walked into your dorm, and stood at the island.
You wordlessly walk to the refrigerator and get the Brita filter that she'd filled, pouring you both glasses of water. You walk up to her, chest to chest, and set the glass on the table. You look at her, and wipe her tears gently. You feel her hands hesitantly hover over your waist. You almost roll your eyes. It didn't have to be like this.
“You came…? But I didn't see you, a-and you didn't say hi after.”
“I know. I'm sorry. I should've said hi, but I was still pissed.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck.
You both look at each other for a beat before you speak again.
“It can't be like this.” She hums and nods in agreement. “I know.”
“I just need fifty-fifty. I understand if you don't have time during the week, you're an athlete, I'm an athlete, and it's bound to happen. I get all of that. But it can't be like this.” You gesture between the two of you.
Ines nods again. “Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed, I didn't mean anything I said, I was just upset.” She mutters shamefully.
“I know.” You say leaning close to her. Your lips ghost across hers and your heart pounds at the way her breath hitches.
Ines pushes her lips against yours, whining so quiet you almost miss it. Almost.
You break the kiss, locking eyes with her once again. “It's late. Let's go to bed. We can talk in the morning.” You whisper. She nods and you can see the exhaustion set in. She probably hasn't slept in days.
You lead her to your room, falling into the familiar rhythm that is cuddling. You face her as she wraps her arms around your waist, your face buried in the crook of her neck. You listen to Ines take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as if you'll disappear. You press a kiss on her collarbone, humming.
“Neshy?” You whisper. She opens one eye, grunting in acknowledgment.
“You ever yell at me in front of the team again, I will beat your ass.” You smile, but she knows you're dead serious.
“No need, KK said she'd beat my ass if I ever made you cry again.” You let out a soft giggle, moving impossibly closer to her.
“Good.”
“Mhm.” She mumbles, closing her eyes once again. You shift up to kiss her lips before returning to your previous position. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, my love.”
Even though your relationship was far from fixed, there's no harm in a night's sleep before you mend what love broke.
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fraugwinska · 4 months
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Hey! Me again!
Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.
My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words
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Autumn had always been your favorite season.
The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.
There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.
"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.
"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."
Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.
Alastor.
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Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.
It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.
"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."
"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.
"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"
You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.
"I... I am dying."
Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.
"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.
"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."
You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."
"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.
"I want to lose my virginity."
The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.
"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"
You shook your head.
"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."
"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"
"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."
The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.
"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"
You nodded.
"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."
Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.
"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."
His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.
Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.
"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."
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The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.
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The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.
But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.
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'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.
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Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.
'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'
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He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.
And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.
"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."
He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.
Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.
Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.
And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.
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Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.
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It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.
The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.
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'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.
"Alastor?"
Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.
"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.
"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."
He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.
When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.
"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"
He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.
Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.
It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.
"Alastor."
The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.
"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."
His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.
"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...
"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.
"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."
Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.
"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."
He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.
Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.
She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.
"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.
"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."
"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."
"... is still yours, yes."
She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.
"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.
"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."
Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.
He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.
"It wasn't the right time, dear."
Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.
"And now...?"
"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.
"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."
Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.
"Alastor, I'm pregnant."
A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.
"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.
She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.
"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.
"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."
"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.
Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.
But.
A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.
Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.
No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.
But his greatest achievement.
With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.
"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"
"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"
Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."
"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.
"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"
"N-No-oh."
The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.
There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.
"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.
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purinfelix · 2 months
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hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense
i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹⋆
pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3
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No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.
Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.
You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.
Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.
"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.
"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."
You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.
Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.
"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.
"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.
"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.
You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."
It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.
He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.
If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.
"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.
"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.
"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."
He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.
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neptuneiris · 1 year
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cardigan (3/3)
I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part
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After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.
You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.
Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.
You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.
The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.
Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.
Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.
Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.
However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.
But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.
Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.
Did he really completely forgot my birthday?
You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.
And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.
So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.
You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.
Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.
That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.
And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.
Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.
You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.
You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.
You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.
He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.
He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.
Does it hurt? Yes, very much.
But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.
Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.
He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.
That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.
You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.
Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.
After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.
But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.
He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.
Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.
You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.
With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.
You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.
And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.
It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.
You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.
You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.
Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.
And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.
It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.
Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.
It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.
Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.
So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.
And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.
"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.
"Hello Hel."
"Where have you been? I finally see you."
She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.
"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."
And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.
"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."
She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.
"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."
Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.
"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."
"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…
"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..
She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.
"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.
And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."
You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.
The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.
"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…
"No, Hel, please."
You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.
"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…
"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."
"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."
"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."
"Really?"
You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.
"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."
You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.
You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.
Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.
"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.
You let out a long breath.
"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."
"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.
"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."
Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I…
You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.
Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.
"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."
You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.
"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."
Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.
"That fucking son of a….
"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."
You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.
"Could you hand it over to him, please?"
And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.
"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."
And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.
You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.
"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.
"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.
After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.
That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.
But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.
And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.
You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.
Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.
"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.
At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.
How you would have wanted that to happen.
You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.
Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.
At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.
But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.
Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.
Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.
And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.
A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.
Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.
Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.
The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.
Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.
However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.
Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.
It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.
The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.
You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.
You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.
But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.
And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.
"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"
And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.
Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.
And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.
You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.
So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.
Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.
But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.
"Y/N...
And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.
At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.
In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.
You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.
And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.
"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.
In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.
"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.
"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"
You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.
But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.
"Are you serious?"
He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.
"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."
And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.
He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.
But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.
"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."
The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.
So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.
He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.
"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."
And you overemphasize your apartment.
"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.
He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.
"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"
He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.
"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"
"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.
"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"
You deliberately ignore his question.
"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."
And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.
But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.
"Let go of me."
"Y/N…
"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."
"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"
At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.
"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….
"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."
He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.
"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.
But you don't care anymore.
"I've done my part, now leave me alone."
Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.
"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"
And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.
"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"
He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.
"Y/N?"
Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.
You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.
"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.
Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.
"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."
"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."
In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.
Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."
You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.
And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.
After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.
You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.
And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.
However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.
But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.
And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.
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Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.
At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.
However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.
The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.
Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.
Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.
And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.
But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.
When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.
He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.
You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.
You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.
When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.
However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.
"Y/N."
He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.
But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.
And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.
"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.
And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.
"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"
However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.
"Yes, very much in fact."
You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.
But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.
"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"
And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.
"About what?"
"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.
And you frown at him.
"Was there anything else to say?"
He lets out a long sigh.
"Y/N, please…
"There you are!"
Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.
"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"
He points to the drinks and you nod.
"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.
"Thank you, my pretty."
And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.
But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.
Pretty.
Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.
And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.
"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"
And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.
"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.
"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."
And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.
Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.
Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.
And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.
"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."
And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.
And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.
Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.
A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.
But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.
Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.
After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.
All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.
He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.
An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.
And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.
All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.
Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.
As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.
Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and
He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.
And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.
But even he doesn't understand himself.
Isn't this what you wanted?
His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.
But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.
He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.
While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.
But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.
He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.
Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.
So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.
Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.
You can't even stand firmly on your feet.
And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.
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The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.
You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.
You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.
Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.
When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.
You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.
What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?
You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.
You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.
But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.
And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.
Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.
You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.
But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.
However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.
"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.
At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.
But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.
"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."
You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.
"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.
And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.
But how wrong he was.
Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.
"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.
"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.
"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.
You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.
"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."
And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.
"Y/N, please wait…
"I need to go.
"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.
"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.
"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."
"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.
"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….
"Will you stop!?"
You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.
While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.
At least not with him.
"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"
"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...
"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"
And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.
"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."
"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….
"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"
Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.
"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"
The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.
"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….
"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.
And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.
There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.
"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…
You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.
"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."
Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.
Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.
While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.
He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.
And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.
And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.
He feels miserable. More miserable than you.
And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.
You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.
The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.
To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.
You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.
Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.
At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.
There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.
At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.
The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.
So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.
You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.
And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.
While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.
Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.
He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.
"She's in love with you, you know?"
The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.
As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.
"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.
And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.
"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."
"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."
"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."
He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.
"Hel, I don't want to…
"Are you really going to let her go?"
His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.
And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.
Will I really let her go?
He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.
Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.
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thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)
besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣
@letmeloveyouuuu @ohdemimonde @carriellie @jennifer0305 @serving-targaryen-realness @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ttkttt @melllinaa @nyenye @hoziersfairy @introverbatim @happinessinthebeing @hnslchw @padfooteyes @riseandreigns4u @shessthunderstoms @strangersunghoon @aemondslefteyeball @1950schick @ammo23 @targaryenmoony
there were many of you that I could not add to the taglist, an apology.
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eucalyptus-lvs · 2 months
Text
Good Luck Charm - Carmen Berzatto x Reader
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This is the first story I've posted, but I have other ideas if you guys want more. Writing has become a new outlet for me so I appreciate any constructive criticism or any thoughts you may have. Carmy is such a fun character to write for and my own personal brain rot atm. I hope to do more in the future. I also like to listen to music while I write and I feel like Again by Still Woozy goes well with this one.<3
TW: Idk honestly. Mentions of dead brothers, debt, and a heated makeout?
"You think if you scrub any harder you'll put a hole in the floor?" 
He stood quickly. Startled by your presence in the kitchen. "What are you still doing here? Thought you left like an hour ago." 
"Well, I was gonna, but then I feared if I left without you you'd still be here when I come in for my shift tomorrow.” You took a few small steps forward. As if you were worried you'd scare him off. There always seemed to be this air around you two. One that was hard to ignore in the times you had spent alone together. “Then I thought you could use some time to wind down before I attempt to push you out the door so I tried to see if I could make any progress on Mikey's paperwork." 
"Did you?" Tossing the rag into the container and moving his hands to his hips. 
"I think that would depend on your definition of progress"
"Yeah, well I haven't exactly been able to figure that shit out either." 
"We'll figure it out, Carm."
He sighed and looked around the kitchen. "I've just got a couple more-" 
"Nope." You take strides across the kitchen to get to him. "Those couple things will turn into another couple things until you've managed to work yourself into an early grave from exhaustion. I mean you're a head chef and you frequently forget to eat. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke." You laugh, trying to reach for the keys to the restaurant. Only for him to snatch them off the counter and out of arms reach. "Carmy-" 
"Nice try" He moved them out of reach again. 
"Will you just-" You attempt to reach for them again as he manages to move them further from you.
“Oooh, you were so close that time.” Leaning against the counter, he barks out a laugh. Probably a product of the years he had spent smoking. 
“Cut it out. C’mon.” You said shyly ducking your head a bit. 
“Sorry, just enjoyin’ this way too much.'' He covered his mouth with his hand to hide his growing grin. There was something about you that he found so comfortable. He wonders if that's the reason he finds himself being so bold in this moment. 
Leaning to the side, you prop yourself against the counter next to him. Settling in and resigning to the fact that he is not going to make getting him out the door easy for you. “You were one of those guys in high school, weren't you?” Narrowing your eyes a bit. 
“An’ what kinda guy would that be?” He challenged.
“Y'know- The guy. Mr. Fuckin’ Popular. Had the girls lining up for you. Always good for a laugh.” Your teasing tone let him know that you weren't all that upset at him poking fun at you. 
“Think the only laugh I'd be good for is if you knew how wrong you were.” 
“Bullshit.” You shot back, shaking your head. 
“No, really. I uh- pretty much stuck to myself. Just hung around Mikey and Richie. The family mostly. Was too fuckin’ awkward to make my own friends. Had this stutter too. Didn't really bother talkin’ to anyone if I didn't have to.” This time he ducked his head. Scratching the back of it like he was embarrassed to admit it.
“Well, you don't seem to have a problem talking to me.” 
He shrugged. “It's different. Different time too.”
Your eyes met for a moment as you both took a pause. “I think we would have been good friends.” 
“Bullshit. You wouldn't have even noticed me.”
“I would have noticed you.” You affirmed with such conviction he almost believed it.
Looking at you now he imagines that if you had met then his life would look very different. He wouldn't have been a couple hundred grand in the hole with a sandwich shop he only had because his brother killed himself. You would have been there for all of it.
Chicago, Paris, Copenhagen, New York. Every destination and every major moment.
You would have been together. 
If he really indulges himself, he thinks maybe even with a kid on the way. Of all the what-ifs that came to mind, there was only one thing he knew for sure.
You were the real deal.
He allows himself to stay in this bubble with you and before he can think about any consequences he responds. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You whispered. Nodding your head as you both start to lean closer.
Timedly you take your time to meet in the middle. Each gives the other an opportunity to back out, but neither of you takes it. Once your lips touched it felt like a shock to his system. You'd usually been so soft, almost cautious in your dealings with him. 
But this was not that.
You pressed yourself against him. Kissing him fiercely and with so much need he was worried that if he tried to open his eyes it would have all been a dream. Another cruel joke his mind had played on him only to wake up alone. Reminding him of all the things he never felt he could have.
Your hands card up into his hair, tugging at the stands. He lets out a deep groan as he switches positions to place you between himself and the counter.
He realizes now how much of a habit it is for you to look out for him. While everyone took the first chance they got to go home, you stayed behind to make sure he would get rest. Then, you took that extra time to try and figure out the clusterfuck of paperwork sitting on his desk.
You show no signs of discomfort as his hands begin to trail your body. Pushing you further against the counter to get as close to you as physically possible. He almost thought he could feel your heart pounding as your chest pressed against his, but knew it was more likely that it was his own. So caught up in you that every detail of this moment felt fuzzy and distorted.
So caught up he didn't realize you started grinding against each other.
One hand cupped around the back of your neck to keep you in place. The other moved down to your ass to aid your movement as you hooked a leg over his hip. His chest burned and heaved. Breath heavy from being cut off from oxygen for so long, but not wanting to break the moment. He wanted to give you something to remember. Not screaming during lunch rush or getting into a fistfight with a guy in a fuckin’ carrot costume.
Something good.
There weren't many times in his life he felt particularly lucky, but when he moved his head down to mouth at your neck. He'd never felt so lucky in his life.
Your head tipped back, letting out a chocked sigh. Followed by the ‘uh, uh, uh’ perfectly timed with the movement of your hips against his growing length. Gripping a hand on the back of his shirt to keep him in place. He imagines that this is the closest he will get to redemption, to happiness, after having spent years in the hellscape that was the New York kitchen. 
When he tried to lift you on the counter the large metal mixing bowl sitting to the side of you came crashing to the ground. The loud reverberation causes you to break away from each other. Effectively bursting the blissfully passionate bubble. 
Your hand moved to your neck where his mouth had been. Almost certain there would be marks left behind to remind you of this moment for days to come. As you both tried to regulate your breathing Carmy couldn't help staring. Opening his mouth like he had something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite articulate what that thing was. You slide off the counter and attempt to straighten your clothes while keeping your eyes on the floor. You always had a hard time meeting his gaze when he looked at you like that. Like if he looked hard enough he might find something that wasn't there before. 
“It's probably a good thing we got interrupted. Things were getting kinda heated.” You forced a chuckle. 
Shit.
This was it.
You're about to tell him this was all a mistake. A heat of the moment thing that you got caught up in and you now regret. As quickly as he had you, he was gonna lose you. Another goddamn shoe was gonna drop. “No, y-yeah. I don’ want you to think-”
Your gaze returned to him. “I think if we took this any further we'd be violating about a dozen health codes after you were just on your hands and knees scrubbing the floor.”  
“I could get on my hands and knees again.” He let out, slightly dazed. Running a hand through his hair in an attempt to ground himself. 
“Jesus- Carmy.” you laugh, not knowing how else to respond. Sliding your hands down your face as it heats up in a heavy blush. 
“I-I didn't mean it like that.” But now he’s definitely thinking it.
He also thinks, rather darkly, that he's never been happier not to have an HR department. 
Truthfully, he didn't know what he meant by the comment. He just knew he wanted you and you didn't seem opposed to the idea. You haven't run away yet and that alone is enough to quiet the spiral he normally defaults to in moments of uncertainty. He had doubted himself a lot in his life, but he was sure with the way you kissed him that you wanted him the way he wanted you. “We've had a long night. Walk ya’ home?” 
“Maybe you could come up? I know for a fact you haven't eaten. I may not be award-winning, but I'm sure I could manage something edible.” The smile on your face grows slightly at the prospect.
“Yeah, that's uh- that sounds good. Let's grab our stuff and we’ll head out.” Hand grazing your lower back as he moved to guide you to the lockers.
He wonders if, for the first time in a long time, his luck has turned around.
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