#and im stuck echoing their words to myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shegatsby · 1 month

Note

i'm aching for feyd rautha x fremen reader!!! perhaps soulmate situation where feyd has dreams about reader and is UTTERLY OBSESSED (please i yearn) ((im so normal about feyd rautha)) also pls drink water and its no rush :))

A/n; HIIIII! This is my first Feyd-Rautha fanfic so go easy on me. Thank you so much for this request, not me giggling and blushing as i was writing this. English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry for any typos.

Words; 5.315K (wow i out did myself lol)

Warnings; War, killing, abduction

He was running, he could feel the rain on his face but he kept running. Moist sand and wet mélange filled his nostrils, the damp sand stuck to his heavy boots, the sound they made was similar to walking on the fresh snow. He never thought he could smell things in his dreams, ‘’Find me.’’ A woman’s soft voice echoed in his ears, ‘’I dare you.’’ And there she was, standing in her stillsuit, hair long and wet, over the years her face was getting more and more clear. Before Feyd could reach and grab her he woke up. He was sweating and he wasn’t in Arrakis, he was in Giedi Prime, House Harkonnen. He could feel the cold satin of his sheets, ‘’Who are you?’’ he whispered into thin air, nothing moved or made a sound. His room was dark, as usual. He rose to his feet and walked to the large glass, his side of the castle over looked the volcanic wasteland that was Giedi Prime, heavly industrialized, low photosynthesis. Harkonnen’s kept the original forests but other than that everything was stone and building.

Feyd-Rautha was a rational man when it comes to these things, however, he kept having these dreams since he was a child. In his dreams he was either in his home planet or Arrakis, he wasn’t alone. The girl in his dreams had always been distant, over the years the girl kept coming closer and closer. Last few months he could see her face clearly. She was a beauty, none of his concubines could match it. Sometimes they would sit in silence or he would chase her… he was going to lose his mind. He needed answers to these dreams, with the arrival of Reverend Mother Helen Mohiam he hoped to get those answers he was looking for. He ordered his men to keep the Reverend Mother at greeting room, when he got ready he left his chambers in a hasty manner. He was a man of action and he didn’t like waiting or making his guest wait, he had a reputation to keep.

Reverend Mother was seated at one of the metal chairs, covered in black clothing, she fitted the room, the castle of Harkonnen was mostly black and grey, servants and soldiers had to wear the same colors as well.

At first Reverend Mother had to test him to see if he was human or not, he followed her instructions and put his hand in a box, he had to endure the pain which was something he got used to and he even enjoyed getting hurt but this was something else. He could feel his hand burn and freeze at the same time, visions ran at a fast speed in his mind’s eyes. He was eager to prove himself so he didn’t flinch, he could feel sweat running down his face, Reverend Mother didn’t not react at all.

‘’You have passed the test.’’ She announced in a flat tone but he knew she was impressed.

‘’My turn.’’ He said which confused the old woman, he was kneeling for this test so he bolted to his feet and took a step back. Hands clasped at his back, he seemed intimidating in his black tunic and pants. His boots made him look much taller than others and he was already a tall man.

‘’What do you know about dreams?’’

‘’Tell me yours and I shall reveal the truth.’’ His eyes searched her face, which was difficult to see through her thin scarf, ‘’I-‘’ he started, ‘’I see.. her.’’ He was hesitant. Reverend Mother noticed the way he said ‘’her’’ this woman must be of importance. ‘’Go on.’’ Old age made her curious for gossip and she thought she was about hear the juiciest one, she didn’t know she was going to discover something larger. Larger than anyone on this Universe.

‘’I’m usually in Arrakis, it rains, and I see her. She speaks to me. She wants me to find her in the desert. I believe she is a Fremen.’’ He shortly explains, Reverend Mother leaned in, ‘’What does he say exactly?’’ Feyd felt naked before this old witch. ‘’ ‘Find me.’ She says, I could hear her in my mind. She wants us to unite.’’ There was a silence, his patience running thin, was he going insaner than usual or these dreams meant something?

‘’Arrakis… rain.. a girl…’’ he heard Reverend Mother whisper to herself, ‘’How long have you been having these dreams?’’ she asked, she was the one who suppose to give answers to him and yet she was questioning him. ‘’Since my childhood.’’ And with that Reverend Mother quickly stood up, which was quicker than expected, considering her age. ‘’I must speak to your uncle Baron Vladimir. Wait us here.’’ He had no choice now, the Pandora’s box was opened. He would rather fight in the arena than waiting here. He was pacing in the large room that had black marble floors, his boots made distinctive sound son the cold floor, his head turned to the doors of the room when they were opened by the servants, his uncle came floating, next to him Reverend Mother followed, Baron was ear to ear smiling, ‘’Hearing these news on your name day is nothing but fate.’’ The old man announced, it was true. Today was Feyd-Rautha’s name day and a ceremony was waiting for him later. ‘’Congratulations, Reverend Mother here says you’ll be the one who raise Harkonnen to its glory.’’ He said with his raspy voice, he seemed joyful even, well, a joy that fit him, cold and calculating. Feyd’s snake like neck moved in questioning, ‘’What about Rabban?’’ his brother Rabban was in Arrakis, ruling in the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, mostly failing him and their family. ‘’He will be reassigned.’’ In their family this meant that it was his last chance, or he would be killed.

‘’Enjoy Arrakis.’’ A cunning smile made him look even more terrifying. He left them alone, Feyd was confused but also the idea of controlling spice made his body electric. ‘’To fulfill your destiny you have to find that Fremen and to secure your place you have to join your house with their kind. They shall be easier to control. I’m sure she is waiting for you to claim her.’’ Reverend Mother was testing the waters, she watched Feyd-Rautha’s expression change into predator mode after she spoke. Now it was a hunt for him and she knew that he won’t stop until he fulfilled his mission.

Feyd knew what Reverend Mother meant but to join with the barbarians?! His house’s reputation could be at stake. He was a psychotic killer but he had rules. He will not tolerate anything that might humiliate his family name. he didn’t want to think further about this so he found himself marching to the arena. After the games he was suppose to have his ceremony and be shipped to Arrakis, his new home.

His ‘’ascending’’ to the title of ‘’Na-Baron’’ was well organized. Rabban lost his rank so it was his time to shine, bring glory and fame to his name and his house. Among the loud cries and applauses Baron Vladimir held his nephew’s face in his sweaty palms and whispered into his ears, ‘’Do not fail me son.’’ It wasn’t coming from affection, it was a threat. He knew his missions;

‘’Control Rabban,

Take over the spice production and multiply the income,

Fulfill what Reverend Mother said.’’

First two were easy…

That night he was shipped to Arrakis with an army and his most loyaly men. As soon as he landed he had one thing in mind, ‘’make Rabban pay for his foolishness’’, ‘’My Na-Baron,’’ servants greeted him outside the castle of Arrakis, hot sun hit his face, he could smell the mélange. ‘’Lord Rabban is waiting for you.’’ As she walked to the Coordination Chambers he watched servants bow in fear and respect. He liked what he saw. Without waiting for servants to open the door for him he barged in. ‘’Rabban!’’ he yelled in animalistic anger. No one noticed the was Rabban flinched but him. ‘’You have humiliated our house,’’ he took a step towards him, ‘’you have humiliated me.’’ And another step. ‘’Kiss my foot.’’ He said cautiously, waiting for Rabban’s reaction and since none came Feyd pushed Rabban to the floor, ‘’Kiss or die.’’ Rabban had no choice but to give in.

Following days were easy. Fremens didn’t know the change in command so first attack was successful. Spice production was slow but promising. Other houses started to send gifts and letters to him to gain his favor. ‘’He who controls the spice controls the entire galaxy.’’ his uncle used to say to him as a child and he was right.

Weeks passed and every time he launched an attack he was also at the front with his men. Main reason was his thirst for blood and gore, however a side of him was looking for something or rather someone. Ever since his arrival his dreams became more frequent and vivid.

The girl kept saying ‘’You’re close.’’

She must be near he could feel it, but among thousands of Fremen girls how was he suppose to find her?

Whenever they attacked he ordered his men to gather Fremen girls who were close to his age, after capturing them he would look at their faces and try to find her but his research was in vain, or so he thought.

Months passed, he was growing restless and Fremen knew how to fight. Disputes were bringing imbalance to the realm. He was refusing to sleep due to the fact that you were in his dreams and he was making plans, growing tactics to find you. Also he didn’t have much time since the Padishah Emperor Shaddam sent him a letter;

‘’Find what you are looking for and bring stability.’’

It was a direct order otherwise he knew that Padishah Emperor would sent his soldiers, Sardaukars to take over what he had established so far.

After that letter his attacks grew more persistent.

‘’Na-Baron, Prisoners are here.’’ Without changing his blood dripping battle suit he marched to the room where the prisoners were kept. They were all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs. ‘’How many?’’ he asked to his general, removing his leather gloves, ‘’20 my Na-Baron.’’

Sleepless night had a toll on him, he was more on the edge than usual. It was going to be almost a year since he came to Arrakis. Fighting with Fremens put the spice production at risk and he couldn’t have that. ‘’I am looking for someone.’’ He began, Fremens knew by now that he was looking for a girl, old Fremens believed that it was a part of a prophecy long forgotten, most of the young ones thought it was a Benne Gesserit tactic to control them.

‘’Eyes up!’’ he yelled, and they looked up to meet his vicious gaze, at the corner one of the girls looked up and immediately lowered her gaze. ‘’You!’’ he pointed to the girl, ‘’Bring her to me.’’ He ordered and two of his men dragged her to him. His pale hand held her face to look deeply but it was false alarm, it wasn’t her. ‘’Why did she move her eyes though?’’ he thought. She seemed like she was holding something… information? Maybe.

‘’It seems like you know me.’’ He said quietly, ‘’I don’t know you.’’ He northerner accent filled his ears. Her voice was shaking and her fear gave it away, ‘’Ohh,’’ Feyd-Rautha loved to see fear in people’s eyes. ‘’You and I, we’re going to have a talk.’’ He moved his head slightly to the left and his men took the girl to a questioning room. Others moved in their places with an uneasy manner.

Feyd didn’t want to waste no time so he followed his men to the room. Inside the castle was kept at a mild temperature, outside was hell. He never thought he could get used to the heat but he adapted.

Feyd watched his men chain the girl to a metal chair and also watched the scared girl observe the room. Brown walls and floors were covered in blood, there were human parts here and there. ‘’What are you going to do to me?’’ she asked trying to stay calm. He wasn’t in the mood for torture since he just came from a battle, ‘’Nothing if you aid and abet. You might even have a luxurious life for your family in the city.’’ Rich Fremens lived in the city. He was actually being honest, she could tell. ‘’Tell me what do you know.’’ If one looked closer it could be seen that he was tired, after all he was human and human beings had their limits. ‘’Promise you won’t hurt her.’’

With the mention of you, his posture got straighter, ‘’I don’t intend to.’’

‘’And promise you let those women go to their homes.’’ Feyd felt generous today, ‘’Set them free.’’ He ordered which shocked his men, ‘’But my Na-Baron,’’ his solider’s sentence cut short since Feyd cut his throat. ‘’You heard me.’’ He warned his other soldiers. ‘’Now,’’ he looked at her, ‘’your turn.’’

The girl seemed cautious. ‘’I… I think I know who you’re looking for.’’ She started, ‘’I have a friend, since childhood. She keeps telling me her dreams of a man.. description fits you perfectly.’’ She finished as if an invisible burden lifted off of her shoulders. ‘’She is a respected soldier’s daughter, they live in a secluded cave, well guarded. It won’t be easy.’’ Feyd smiled in anticipation,

‘’I don’t want easy.’’

The girl gave the exact coordinates, as he was leaving he stopped in his tracks, ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’Y/N.’’

He rested during the day, he wanted to attack to their Sietch when its late night. ‘’Y/N…’’ he whispered like praying to Gods. ‘’A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’’

The sietch was in deep desert but his men were perfectly prepared. He positioned his men at the exists and entrances of the sietch.

They blasted the stone walls which were doors, Fremen knew how to be one with the desert. Fremen were ambushed, they didn’t expect the attack but they were brave, sietch was big with multiple floors. Since Y/N was a well respected soldier’s daughter she must be upstairs with other higher ranks. He moved past everyone, climbing the stone stairs, screams were music to his ears. He pushed and kicked everyone who was on his way. Upstairs the rooms had thin green curtains that were see-through. He didn’t bother with crying children and their mothers, his one and only mission was to find Y/N and leave with her. As he was walking carefully on the long hall which had rooms on his left and right he felt a presence at his back. His blade crashed with another. The woman was in her stillsuit just like others, her face and hair covered with a dirty beige scarf, only eyes could be seen. ‘’Move out of my way girl and you will live.’’ When the girl heard his voice he noticed the hand she was holding the blade go soft for a split second but gained strength once again.

Feyd’s suit was specifically designed for him, head to toe he was dipped in jet black, a mask covering his face yet his eyes were there like dark diamonds. Shining with thirst. She didn’t say anything and made her move. She was passionate, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, maybe she had a thirst for blood just like him. Feyd stepped back and her crysknife licked the air. ‘’I gave you chance.’’ Feyd said before he launched at her, he was swift but the girl answered every stroke. ‘’You are good…’’ he was out of breath, her stance was weak, ‘’but not that good.’’ And they danced. Feyd made her trip, Fremen girl wasn’t even making a sound while attacking, she was like the desert, silent. Her moves made him think of swans, elegant yet bold. Feyd could feel that tonight he was going to satisfy his need for blood.

Fremen girl threw sand to his face to get advantage because she was unstable, ‘’Unfair.’’ She heard him say. He rubbed his eyes and had to remove his mask. She saw him under the orange glowglobe, her knife dropped and ran to the opposite direction.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t a stupid man. This action of hers gave her true identity. Like a predator he began the chase, it was thrilling. It wasn’t easy to spot her among Fremens who wear the same colored suits but it made the chase more fun. Something in him told him to go to the nearest exit and he did.

He had fewer men outside since most of the action was inside the sietch, the sand was covered in blood and his man laying stiff on the ground. One of his men lost his weapon, maybe she took it?

He closed his eyes to listen to the desert, he could hear swift motions, he followed where the sound coming from, there were large rocks to his left and he moved. Someone jumped at him behind the rocks, he fell to the ground, smell of spice made him a bit dizzy but he composed himself quickly. Two small hands grabbed his throat, sitting on top of him. She was screaming in ecstasy, maybe she never killed someone and she thought this was going to be her first. Feyd thought it was cute that she thinks she could kill him. With all of his strength he moved to his side dragging her along with him. Now she was laying on the ground, with one of his hand he pinned her hands above her head, he didn’t forget to give all of his weight to make her stay put, her legs wrapped around his waist. With his other hand he found his knife and cut her scarf. Her pure face revealed under Arrakis’s two glowing moons. His animalistic smile grew, ‘’Found you.’’ She was struggling to get away, like an animal trapped in a cage. ‘’Sleep tight.’’ And he injected a sedative, in seconds her shiny eyes closed.

Arrakis has woken up to a new day, a new era one might say. Na-Baron was energetic, he woke up to a letter from Reverend Mother; ‘’Now that you got what you came for it won’t be hard to continue.’’

It was a simple message for an ordinary man’s eyes yet Feyd-Rautha wasn’t an ordinary man. It meant that ‘’Bring stability by uniting his house with the Fremens.’’ Last night’s events showed that he needed much time to break her to his liking. He had so many questions to ask her…

After a really long time Feyd had a boyish excitement. He was having his breakfast eagerly in his bed chambers when his door knocked and his Mentat walked in. ‘’How is she?’’ he asked eating his beef. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is creating chaos. Unstable.’’ He chuckled, sucked the juice off of his thumb, ‘’Take me to her.’’

She was kept in a guest room, probably biggest room she had ever had the luxury of staying, his Mentat went in first and Na-Baron heard the immediate screams from her, he also heard some metal clinging and barged in. She was chained at the end of the room, her hands and neck. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ he yelled to his Mentat, ‘’Why is my bride chained to a wall?!’’ he could feel the rage in his veins. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is aggressive and killed a servant. We had no choice.’’

‘’Leave us.’’

When the door closed a thick silence occupied the room. She was standing in her stillsuit, hair a mess, and anger in her pretty eyes, eyes that were so familiar to him. He slowly approached, watched her move to the opposite direction, as he got close he could see the red marks on her wrists and neck. He came to a stop at a white line on the floor, his Mentat must have painted it.

‘’I’m not going to hurt you little dove.’’ His voice was calm which puzzled her, he was yelling at his Mentat seconds ago. His raspy tone which was inherited in his bloodline made her take a step back. ‘’Are you hungry?’’ she was shocked at his questioning. She only nodded, ‘’If you promise to not attack my servants they will bathe you and give you clean clothes, later you can have a fulfilling meal.’’ He tilted his head, his sharp jaw pointed like a blade, ‘’How does that sound?’’ Feyd could tell that she was tired and strangers made her uneasy, Fremens were a close-knit community, didn’t like strangers but they weren’t strangers, they haven’t been for a long time. Even though she didn’t let her guard down he could feel that she was less tense. ‘’I will be back.’’

After an hour or so Feyd was informed that she didn’t attack anyone, let the maids bathe her and dress her. Now she was eating, perfect timing.

Feyd-Rautha checked himself on the mirror, he had sleeveless black tunic and black pants, black boots. As usual. He left his chambers to visit her.

He opened the guest room door to see her eating, two maids waiting at her back. Y/N stopped eating when she saw her. She had a dark purple dress, showing her elegant shoulders, as he cautiously approached she smelled like a garden of roses, her hair brushed and braided. ‘’Leave us.’’ His eyes never leaving her. As the maids were leaving he didn’t forget to press the button on his chest, he had an invisible shield. Just in case.

‘’Please,’’ he said ‘’continue.’’ He sat next to her, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. In the menu there was red wine, cooked fish and fruit. ‘’I’ve chosen the menu for you, is it to your liking?’’ she took a sip from her wine to clean her throat, half of the fish was eaten already. ‘’What is this?’’ she pointed at the fish, this was the first time Feyd heard her in real life. He had a victorious smile which Y/N found it odd. ‘’Fish. Have you ever seen a live one before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’They live in the sea, lakes, rivers…’’ he stood up to move close to the wall to wall window, ‘’Imagine this desert filled with water. In that water animals like fish lives.’’ He turned to see her reaction, her eyes shone interest, ‘’I’m going to take you to planets that have sea.’’ He was speaking more to himself.

‘’What do you want?’’ she asked harshly, ‘’I want you.’’

Fremens were up front about their thoughts and feelings but seeing an outsider being that way shocked her. ‘’We have the same dreams since childhood. Am I mistaken?’’ he had to be sure. She nodded, ‘’Don’t you think this is.. fate?’’ yes, she was having the same dreams of him, last night when she saw his face her body was in fight or flight and she choose flight. All she wanted to do right now get the knife from the table and jab it to his pale neck, she thought nothing was stopping her so slowly her left hand went to the table, Feyd’s back was turn but he had pointy ears. She jumped from her seat to his back, like a monkey but an invisible energy was pushing the knife from his neck. Feyd’s laughter echoed in the room and with one move he pulled her from his back and made her stand in front of him, holding her hands behind her back, now they were glued. This was the first time they were this close without war gear, he could feel her breasts pressing his chest, up close she noticed how smooth his arms were, and how masculine he was. ‘’I didn’t expect the least from you.’’ He said smiling, he was mad, that’s for sure. She lost her temper.

‘’You murdered my kin! You killed my family, my friends! I would rather die!’’ the fire in her eyes intrigued him. Her eyes were getting blurry, she was fighting to escape but his grip was strong.

‘’If they gave me the spice willingly none of this would happen.’’ He said with a serious tone, ‘’Let go of me!’’ she screamed, ‘’I would rather be eaten by Shai Hulud than be your bride!’’ she was crying now, her vision was blurry and Feyd let her go. Y/N’s tired arms which held bruises from last night hitting his chest, ‘’I have no one-‘’ she was having an attack, ‘’because of you-‘’ Feyd felt a lump in his throat, it was strange to him, he never thought he would feel sadness but here he was. He achieved everything he ever wanted but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth?

She was shaking violently, Feyd held her, the reality of the situation hit her like a sand storm. People that she called family were gone by the hands of this man who was holding her so delicately…

These hands that were brushing her hair committed atrocities…

Months of hiding and fighting made her fall to her knees, she lost to the outsider.

‘’You have me now.’’ She heard the Na-Baron say, ‘’Shh,’’ she felt his plump lips on her hair, ‘’you have me little dove.’’ Her body gave in and she fainted.

‘’It was a seizure due to stress my Na-Baron.’’ Feyd-Rautha was by her side, she was sleeping, when Mentat left he found himself holding her hand and climbing to bed. ‘’What if this doesn’t work out?’’

The pressure of keeping his family name at its glory kicked in. Feyd lived his life to be the perfect Harkonnen, could he loose it all?

Reverend Mother was suppose to come to Arrakis in a few days to see Y/N and question her, they only had few days to get to know each other. What would happen if Reverend Mother didn’t see Y/N as a right match for their breeding program? But the dreams… element of fate.. it was too much for him. He let his body relax next to Y/N’s, still holding her hand he fell asleep.

Y/N felt a presence next to her and her eyes opened immediately. It was night, and a glowglobe lit the room dimly, the night was silent. To her left she saw him, sleeping peacefully, her hand in his, she wondered how could someone commit murder day and night and then sleep like this. No care in the world, she thought, how wrong she was.

At first she thought her dreams to be simple imagination of children, later in life the dreams grew frequent. In her dreams she kept seeing him holding her hand and leading her to new planets, the first person she told about these dreams was her father who took her to an old lady, after having a mélange session the old woman started to scream ‘’So it’s written!’’ there was an old prophecy long forgotten, a Fremen girl was going to marry an outsider which would bring stability. For years her people had fought, hid in the shadows, she never believed the prophecy and moved on but her father and her close friend and that old woman believed religiously. She turned to observe him. He looked so pure she didn’t want to believe that this man was the man she fought back at home. ‘’Like what you see?’’ his raspy voice had amusement. She didn’t move or said nothing. He opened her blue eyes, his hand gently went up to trace the outlines of her face, ‘’Give me a chance to introduce myself.’’ And he kissed her hand, together they fallen asleep again.

The next morning they had breakfast in silence, ‘’I want to show you something today.’’ He announced and he took her to the garden inside the castle. Years ago his ancestors built a garden inside that well kept and full of flowers from different planets. Y/N had never seen these before, she read about plants because she was interested in them but seeing them in real life was something else. She found herself smelling every flower, Feyd noticed the huge smile on her face, they sat among the flowers, neither of them dared to utter a word. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, she was in awe of this place and Feyd was in awe of her. She looked divine in her orange dress, she looked positively care free.

All day they didn’t speak a word to each other, Feyd gave some orders, other than that he intend to keep the silence. In silence there was no rejection, no fighting. They had dinner together, and he watched her take off her clothes wear her night gown and lay on the bed. They were in his bed chambers so he also changed and went to bed. There was a space between them which Feyd didn’t like. He was discovering new things about himself such as desire to have physical contact. Her back was turned to him, he came close and hugged her from behind, she didn’t move.

The days that followed were the same. Slowly Feyd started to give her information about his life here and there, she listened intently but her heart was with the desert. So many times Feyd caught her staring out the window, Y/N also made comments to things he said or shared memories of her past. She had to make a decision but she wasn’t in hurry since the Harkonnen’s and Fremens stopped fighting since she was captured. That night she felt the cold side of the bed and woke up, Feyd was gone, yes they slept in the same bed for days but nothing happened. She rose to her feet and fell on her knees, the castle was under attack. Sirens could be heard everywhere. Out the window she saw Fremens attack the castle, she found a knife from Feyd’s closet and left the room. The halls were packed with Harkonnen soldiers, marching outside to meet the attack and they had heavy machines, also their numbers higher than Fremens. She had to find him and put an end to this.

Bare foot she was running, they all seemed the same, pale skin and black suits. When Y/N saw his Mentat she ran to him, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she yelled, it was chaos, chaose everywhere. ‘’My lady you shouldn’t be outside.’’ She didn’t care, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she demanded. ‘’At the entrance, greeting the Fremens.’’ And she ran. Mentat was right he was fighting and killing her kin, he was a skilled killing machine. ‘’FEYD!’’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. Fremens that knew her stopped in their tracks, shocked to see her in a luxurious night gown, they were here to collect her. ‘’FEYD!’’ the Fremen he was fighting stopped when he saw her and it made Feyd stop too, among dust and falling men he turned to face her. He was covered in blood, holding knives in both of his hands, he slashed open the Fremen’s throat and walked to her. She could feel her blood run cold.

‘’How could you?!’’ she attacked, Feyd immediately held her hand that was holding the knife, her knife dropped.

‘’Mary me!’’ he screamed, ‘’Mary me and I’ll stop the war.’’

Y/N looked around, watching her people fall to the sand and lose it was too much to bear, it was high time someone put an end to this and if it was her then she had to fulfill her destiny.

She said nothing but held his face and kissed his plump lips.

523 notes · View notes

sturnioloobessed · 27 days

Text

Bad Idea!

Summary~Matt and y/n broke up nearly a year ago but it was a mutal break up as they knew they were toxic,what happens when y/n accidentally sent matt a few pictures on accident.

I softly hummed to the music that echoed through my room as i scrolled through the pictures in my camera roll,the nude ones,the non nude ones.

A messages appeared from the guy ive been speaking to.

I swiped onto my snapchat going into my eyes only,tapping the passcode into choosing my best photo and went back on to message typing up matt and pressing the first one.

Ping!!

My heart dropped slightly,why was matt texting me not the coffee matt, matt matt my ex.

I slowly pressed onto his message.

Shit..

My heart beat rapidly beated,my heart felt like it was in my throat.

What?

What the fuck!

I clutched onto my phone,my thumb grazing over the keyboard before texting back letting out a shaky sigh.

I threw my phone across my room,panic rushing through my body what have i gotten myself into. A simple ‘no im so sorry wrong person’ or ‘block’ could of been fine.. But no! Fuck fuck fuck. I jumped out of my bed throwing on some makeup,quickly ripping off my sweat pants and the oversized tshirt changing it to a lace lounge set so i didnt look a mess.

I let out a sigh of relief hearing my door bell go off my heart sank,i sprayed my perfume running around my room throwing stuff in my wardrobe to make my room look clean before rushing down stairs looking at my door before pulling it open.

“hi-”

I got cut off with matt pushing me against my wall slamming the door close smashing his pink plumbed lips against mine,fuck how i have missed this,his cold slender hands trailed down to my hips giving them a tight squeeze before turning us around to my couch pushing me onto it as he dangled over me his chain following swiping across my skin as our bodies moved in sync.

His swollen lips moved to my jaw giving to a soft peck then down to my neck,nibbling my sweet spot earing a breathy moan from me,sucking on my sweet spot making marks along my skin.

‘oh-oh matt’

He chuckled against my skin,the warm feeling of his breath hitting my skin made my breath hitch,a whine made its way out of mouth of desperation.

‘I know pretty girl hold on for me’

The urge of needing him became desperate, louder whine made its way out again,his index finger placed onto my lips as he shushed me.

His cold fingers grazed over my clothed clit as they traveled up to the waist band on my shorts pulling them allowing them to snap against my skin earning a wince from me,he tugged on my shorts with desperation,i lifted my hips up helping him as he slid my shorts off throwing them somewhere in my living room.

The pad of his thumb connected to my clit rubbing the bud softly while he slipped his index and middle finger into my leaking hole thrusting them in and out,curling them to my g-stop.

‘nghh-hh fuc—fuck fuck matt’

My legs shook as the knot formed in my stomach,i arched my back off the sofa unable to process the pleasure rushing through my body,i felt close as my legs shook harshly and the knot wanting to snap.

‘ima cu-cum..matt! nghh fuck’

He fucked me with his fingers harder leaning over to my face kissing me,slipping his tongue into my mouth exploring it,the knot snapped as i squirted all over his fingers i felt him smirk against my swollen lips as he leaned down to my wet cunt,his tongue licked a strip under agaisnt my pussy earning a hiss from me from feeling senstive.

‘so pretty..teasing me with your nudes hm?’

Words were unable to form from the amount of pleasure i just felt and the tiredness swarming over me,fuck..

Not fucking for ages really did have an effect on me,i was never this tired after we used to have sex my breathing was heavy,sweat trickled down my forehead as my hair was stuck onto it; a hand swept away the sweaty hair making me sigh.

‘mm stay here pretty girl’

I felt where his presence was once there disappear then come back,he had a towel in his hand wiping up my juices off me and the couch while i sat up he got up finding my shorts for me; helping me get them back on due to the weakness in my below part of my body.

He picked me up carrying me to my bed placing me on the bed,i pulled my covers up tucking myself under the quilts whilst he was shuffling around but i didnt know what with since i had my eyes closed,too lazy to even open them,i felt the bed dip next to me shirtless matt snaking his arm around my waist pulling me into him as his kisses my temple softly moving to turn my bedside lamp over so he wouldng move me too much then went back into his original place snuggling me,mumbling the words.

I love you..

As we both drifted off.

First fic since ages ago😝😝😝

ik this wasnt rlly good sorryy❤️

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smutt

249 notes · View notes

qtboni · 10 months

Note

helloo boniiii (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) i hope ur doing okay todayyyy i saw that you hve ur reqs open and i have an idea!

the way chubby!reader is insecure of how she looks and Simon notices it and comforts her? bye sorry im like so bad at explaining but what would Simon do?

HELLO, BABI ! omg u got me there. im one of those peeps who gets so insecure easily 😔 and really, i want a husband like simon who can comfort me in bad times 😭 thank you for requesting this !!

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Chubby!Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon reassures your insecurities with loving words, and you are overwhelmed with emotions, as he makes you realize the beauty in yourself that you can't see.

C/W: Hurt/comfort! body image issues, insecurities, mentions of body dysmorphia, intimate partner relationship (emotional support), reader expressing emotions and processing trauma, reader struggles with feelings of self-worth.

Simon's car doors shut with a loud thud, echoing through the garage and signaling his departure. A small sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you would have the whole day to yourself.

No more needing to pretend to be okay when you weren't. You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned towards the mirror. As you gazed into your reflection, the harsh lights amplified every imperfection.

'I hate how I look,' you thought to yourself as you gazed into the mirror. Every day, you spent too long in the restroom, staring at your reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong with yourself.

Your shoulders were too wide, tummy too fat, and your cheeks were getting fuller by the day. It also doesn't help that your legs look so big on you and the way your thighs would touch together quite so much. You felt gross and ugly, and it seemed like nothing you did could make a difference.

You sighed as you cupped your cheeks, pretending to pull them behind your face. You longed to be slim and thin, or at the very least, pretty. But no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you were doomed to be the ugly duckling for the rest of your life.

"Why did I let myself get this way?" you wondered.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as your self-pity reached new heights. You didn't understand why everyone else seemed to have it all figured out, while you were stuck here, hating yourself more and more each day.

You wondered if you would ever be able to accept yourself for who you are, or if you would forever be doomed to feel inferior to everyone around you. It was a painful feeling, and one that you struggled with every single day.

Your eyes slowly shifted towards the mirror in the restroom again, and you let out a heavy sigh. Without even really thinking, you started to pinch and pull at your skin. Your fingers zeroed in on your thighs and you frowned, unable to help but focus on the parts of your body that you didn't like.

Your hand then moved to your midsection, and you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling defeated. You wanted to look different, you wanted to look like the pretty girls in the magazines and on social media.

You wanted to be beautiful.

Tears started forming in your eyes again, and you brushed them away before your sobs could come after. You didn't want anyone to see you like this - didn't want Simon to see. You didn't want him to know how much you hated yourself. But it was a constant struggle, and one that you fought every single day.

You pinched the fat on your stomach, pulling it from side to side and watching as it jiggled.

"Why can't I just look normal?" you asked yourself, your voice cracking.

You moved on to your thighs, pinching the flesh that had been collecting there over the past few months.

"I look gross," you said to yourself, voice barely above a whisper. "I hate.. my body."

Tears started to pool in your eyes as you began to pull at your cheeks and the edges of your mouth, trying to pull them back to make yourself look thinner.

"I just can't stand looking like this," you said to yourself again and again, your voice catching in your throat.

But no matter how much you pinched and pulled, you couldn't make yourself look the way you wanted. The image in the mirror still looked like you – tired, fat, and flawed. You turned away from the mirror, feeling defeated and alone.

You wanted so badly to be able to pull the fat away and make your face look the way you wanted. In your mind's eye, you imagined how much better you would look if you could just lose a few pounds, if your stomach wasn't so rounded, if your thighs weren't so thick.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to make a single inch of difference. The cycle of self-doubt and self-loathing was never-ending, and it seemed like you were doomed to remain trapped in your own head, unable to break free.

But then you looked down at the sink, and saw your reflection in the water, distorted and warped. You realized that in trying to fix your flaws, you had only made them worse. Your self-imposed torture was only making you hate yourself more.

It seemed like an eternity before you calmed down, your breathing slowing to a normal pace once again. However, you were still on the brink of tears.

What if Simon saw you like this? Would he still love you?

But you knew that Simon was more than just a pretty face. He was kind and gentle, and he accepted you for who you were, imperfections and all. As you stood in front of the mirror, you then stared at your reflection with a mix of sadness and frustration.

Your heart sank at the sound of a knock, and you quickly dried your tears. Then, your heart raced as your tried to compose yourself. You knew it was Simon – your husband, and the one person who understood you the most. You guys had been through a lot together, and you knew you could count on him to make everything better.

"I'm coming!" you called out, your voice shaky. You took a deep breath and smoothed down your clothes before making your way to the door.

As you opened it slowly, you saw Simon standing there, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Hey," Simon said softly, his voice full of compassion. He walked in and gave you a hug, as if he knew exactly what you needed. You hugged him back, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You knew that Simon would always be there for you, no matter what.

"Hi," You let out a deep sigh and rested your head on his shoulder. "You're back early?"

Simon's warm embrace was exactly what you needed. You felt your body loosen up and your heart start to calm down as you let out another slow, deep breath.

You felt him nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah, my plans got canceled," he said softly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You leaned into his embrace, humming a reply, feeling a sense of comfort. You needed this, you thought to yourself. You needed someone to remind you that you weren't alone, and that there were people in your life who cared about you – people who loved you just the way you are.

Despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, it was obvious that something was wrong. Simon squeezed your shoulder gently, as if he could sense what you were thinking. He knew that you were going through a tough time, but he also knew that you needed someone to talk to – someone who would listen and understand without judgment.

You took another breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You were grateful for Simon. Grateful that he was in your life, and that he was there for you when you needed him the most.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked, his tone soft and gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You didn't want to appear weak or needy, but you also didn't know how to hide your emotions from Simon.

"Love?"

Finally, you replied, "I'm just having a bad day. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"But.. I am worried," Simon said, his voice filled with concern. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I.." You sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurity and self-hatred bearing down on you. "I don't know, Simon. I just feel like I'm not good enough. Like I don't measure up."

"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion on his face evident.

You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. "I, um, hate the way I look, I guess," you replied, trying to convey the depth of your dislike for yourself without stating it outright. You didn't want to burden him with the full extent of your self-loathing.

You watched as Simon's expression changed, going from confusion to concern. You sighed, knowing you had to be careful with your words. "It's just... I hate my body," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's eyes widened slightly, and you could tell he was beginning to understand.

"Oh, baby," he said softly. "You're beautiful, inside and out. I know it's hard, but try not to focus so much on how you look. There's so much more to you than that."

Simon leaned closer to you, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and the other at your chin. You looked up at Simon, grateful for his understanding and compassion.

"I know, but it's just so hard sometimes," you replied, your voice breaking again.

Simon pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "I know, love. But you're not alone. I'm here for you. You're not defined by your appearance. You're a kind, caring person, with so much to offer the world. Why'd you think I chose to marry you?"

You clung to Simon for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love he held for you.

"My love," he continued, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck in your ear. "You are more than enough. You are an amazing person, inside and out. I'm not just saying that. It's the truth. Understand, baby? The truth."

"I ... I can't do this," you choked as your sobs echoed the bathroom. It was all too much. It's as if you don't deserve all of his compliments to your body.

Simon took you into his arms, holding you close and rubbing your back soothingly. "Tell me, baby," he asked, his voice full of concern. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You took a deep breath and hesitantly told him everything – about your insecurities, about how you never felt good enough, about how you hated how you looked like.

You leaned into Simon's embrace, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence surrounding you. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and put them into words.

"It's just... I can't stop comparing myself to other people," you said finally, voice low and strained. "And every time I look at myself in the mirror, I just see all the things that are wrong with me. I can't seem to love myself, no matter how hard I try."

Simon squeezed your back, listening to you attentively.

"I know you mean well, Simon, but it's just so hard sometimes," you said, your voice still low and emotional. "I feel like everyone's always staring at me and judging me, especially when I wear something that shows off my body."

Simon's hand stroked your hair, trying to soothe your frazzled nerves. "You're beautiful, baby. And no one has the right to make you feel otherwise." He paused, his voice full of quiet intensity. "If anyone says anything to you, I'll deal with them, I promise."

Despite feeling down, you find yourself chuckling with tears in your eyes. His jokes were just so random and out of place, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Simon's voice was gentle and comforting as he pulled you closer to the hug, swaying your bodies in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"Tell me, pretty baby," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's eating away at you?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage before you answered. "Well, it's my cheeks firstly," you said quietly, voice shaking slightly. "They're too huge.."

Simon's arms tightened around you, his voice filled with compassion. He leaned away from the hug and cupped your cheeks together. "Huge? Really, baby?" he asked.

"Yes, really..." You leaned into his embrace again, feeling the warmth of Simon and the love he held for you.

"Pretty baby," He said, cupping your cheeks again together. "I love these chubby cheeks you have. It makes you look like a hamster and god, you look so cute with them, don't you know that?"

"But everyone else has a perfect appearance," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'll never be able to measure up."

Simon's eyes closed for a moment, as if he were searching for the right words to say. "You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else," he said finally, his voice fierce. "You're perfect just the way you are, my love. And I'll always be here to remind you of that."

Simon then kissed both of your cheeks affectionately and you feel tears welling up in your eyes again. He asks, "Do you have any more?"

You sighed. "What about my hips and thighs?" You continued, voice shaky with insecurity. "They're too big, too curvy. I'll never be able to wear the things I want to wear."

Simon's face softened even more as he listened to your words, his eyes full of understanding.

"Sweet baby," He coos at you and carefully places both of his hands onto your waist. "Your hips and thighs are a part of you, and they're beautiful. Nobody has the right to tell you otherwise. Your curves are beautiful and I love how it fits well in my hands when I hold them to touch you."

Your tears wouldn't stop running down.

"They're my love handles from you, my love," He added and it had struck a chord in your heart. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. His words had been like a balm to your soul, and you leaned into his embrace more, feeling a sense of peace and comfort wash over you.

Your tears continued to fall, but they were no longer those of sadness and insecurity. They were tears of gratitude, for having found someone who truly valued and loved you for who you are – curves and all.

You looked up at Simon, your eyes shimmering with a mix of joy and gratitude. "Thank you, Si’," you whispered, sniffing as you do so.

Simon stroked your cheek gently, his eyes full of love and affection. "You're welcome, baby. Fuck, I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

Simon's words hit you like a ton of bricks, lifting a weight you didn't even realize was there off of your shoulders.

"I love you too, Si'." You replied and rested your head on his shoulder, softly breathing in your choked sobs.

"I just want to love myself like how you love me." You cried into his embrace, all of the pain and insecurity you'd carried with you for so long finally coming to a head.

"I believe in you, love," Simon replied, his voice filled with conviction. "You're strong and capable and beautiful, inside and out. You don't need anyone else's approval to be those things. And I promise, I'll always be here to remind you of who you truly are."

You felt his arms tighten around you, his embrace warming you from the inside out. His words of encouragement filled you with a newfound sense of confidence, and you felt a sense of hope rising within you.

As Simon's words registered with you, you felt the weight of the tears rolling down your cheeks like an onslaught. You had been carrying the burden of your insecurities for so long, and the idea of someone else understanding what you were going through, and even accepting you for who you are, made you feel like maybe there was still hope.

Simon's embrace grew even tighter as he held you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. You could feel the comfort and warmth exuding from his body, and it made you feel like you were at home.

"Thank you," you said, nuzzling into his neck further. "I don't know what I would do without you, Si'"

"You'll never have to find out," Simon replied, his voice full of determination. "I'll be here for you, always. You're not alone, love. We'll face your insecurities together."

With those words and a kiss to your shoulder, you felt a sense of peace and acceptance wash over yourself. You knew that, with Simon on your side, you could get through anything, even your own perceived flaws and imperfections.

You leaned into his embrace more, feeling safe and loved for the first time in what felt like forever.

A/N: what the fuck. this made me cry again holy shit this rlly hit a nerve inside. what have u done to me anon !! jk i love this <//3

and to anyone who related to this, if you're feeling insecure about your body and struggling with body image issues, it's important to remember that you are so much more than your appearance. Everyone has their own unique features and qualities that make them special and valuable. Try to focus on your positive traits, both inside and out :) Surround yourself with supportive people who see you for who you truly are and appreciate you for all that you are. Remember that it's okay to have days where you don't feel your best, but try to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time to heal and grow <//3

Remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and can help you through this difficult time !! It might be helpful to seek professional help or support groups if you feel like you're struggling. Ultimately, remember that your worth as a person is not tied to your appearance or weight. You are so much more than your exterior and deserve love and kindness no matter what. <//3

562 notes · View notes

nonclassyparty · 3 months

Text

tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face.

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!"

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it.

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else!

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!"

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose.

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek.

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl.

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking.

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too.

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder.

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included) but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo.

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either.

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence.

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace.

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw.

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something.

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand.

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-"

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand.

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk.

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!"

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression).

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team.

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just ready to fight.

You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall.

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red.

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years.

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios

135 notes · View notes

thyln4gf · 4 months

Text

Eternally yours

✞ You seem to be encountering the same man, over and over. He's everywhere you go. Is he obsessed with you?

✞ Just a silly little thing that I wrote, cutely short (2080 words). Has some spanish in it, and im not fully fluent, so i used a bit of a translator here and there.

✞ I have synesthesia! Here's 5 songs that i associate with this fic: "Weight beneath my sin" - FFDP, "The retaliators theme (21 bullets)", "Anywhere but here" - FFDP, "Deutschland" - Rammstein, "Rein raus" - Rammstein.

✞ Warnings: Blood, violence, gory descriptions. Intensely psychotic reader, who has taken a liking for blood.

✞ Alejandro Vargas x soldier/operator/assassin!reader

“Eres demasiado fascinante para olvidar, muñeca bonita”

A man's voice echoed in your ears as you stood there, your breath ragged and heavy. You felt blood running down your face, the warmth you initially felt slowly going away, the liquid getting stickier as it dried. Funny detail? The blood wasn’t even yours. A smirk played on your lips from the thought, the sound of cracking bones still replaying over and over in your brain. The way the body reached the ground with a loud thud, making the bones you just broke stick out even more. The red, warm liquid seeping further and further, quickly creating a puddle. And you couldn’t help but watch it spread. Good thing he's not bloodying a carpet, eh? Would be a pain in the ass to get it out.

You quickly get brought back to reality when you hear a cough right behind you. You slowly turn around, the sadistic and almost psychotic smirk still on your face. The face you're greeted by makes the smirk spread even further – and you let your eyes glide over his body. Doesn’t matter that at this point, you see him more often than your own family – he's still good looking. Despite him being your deeply rotten enemy, everything about him attracts you. His eyes. His frame. His stubble. The growl in his voice when he's trying to keep it low. His accent. The way you see him hesitate when raising a gun to your head, and his burning eyes.

You eventually make your way back to his eyes. And there it is – the heat in his eyes that could burn down a country. Ah. You see that his gun is already raised. The smirk never leaves your face, but the mans eyes widen at the sight of you covered in blood, and whatnot – he swore that he could see some bone shards stuck in your hair. You almost see something else – but he quickly shakes it off, seemingly not wanting you to figure it out. His gun is fixated on your face, but you can see him shift the aim to the middle of your forehead. If you weren't already smirking from ear to ear, it would be spreading even further. Something about the uncertainty of the situation pumped that sweet, sweet adrenaline through your veins – it even excited you. The idea of finally being the one bleeding out on the floor, limbs twisted in ungodly ways… Finally being the one being watched as your life drains out of your body, and not the one watching… it aroused you.

“Answer me this… And don’t make me repeat myself, amor.” The words suddenly leave Alejandro’s lips, but in a rather slow manner. His voice is low and raspy, pleasing your ears. “Why is it always… you?” He makes a few slow steps towards you after he finishes the second sentence, the gun still trained on your forehead. However, you don't move. “Every time I hear about another bloodbath, I know im going to see your face. Again, again, and again. Why?” He's even closer to you now, you could hear his breath if you tried. The way he looks at you hasn’t changed one bit – he still looks like he's about to eat you alive. You just don’t know if he wants to blow your brains out, or your back. And it's hot.

A slow chuckle escapes your lips. You couldn't help but find the way he's acting rather… Adorable. We see each other often. I have him figured out inside out, so I’d only assume that he has done the same with me. Has he not? Does he not care as much as I thought he would?

“No me hagas esperar demasiado. Te disparariá. Sin embargo… Creo que estarías bien con eso.” He speaks up again, now right in front of you. He shifts his hold of the pistol, now putting it to your temple, pressing the cold metal against your skin. You can even hear a small click sound – his finger is increasing the pressure being applied to the trigger. And just like that, you feel your heart skip a few beats, and your arousal rising.

“Why am I doing this? Does a bear shit in the woods?” The words leave your mouth smoothly – almost like you didn’t have a gun aimed at your head at the moment. Your smug smirk melts away, leaving Alejandro to look at the most disturbing expression he has ever seen – the coldness radiating off your features, but those eyes… you could tell him what to do, and he would obey. You wish you could answer his question easily – but something inside of you… doesn’t want him to know. Voicing your thoughts, that are more of a sadistic nature, would feel like stripping your clothes off in front him. I mean… that wouldn't be… undesirable. But the thing behind it all is years and years of trauma – you knew that you get judged for anything that leaves your mouth, so this wouldn't be an exception.

Doing what you were doing became a part of your life a long time ago – it burned into your soul like a scar into your skin. The first time you were made aware of your nature was when you were barely 7 – you watched as your sister tripped and fell to the floor, breaking her nose, blood gushing out and staining her clothes, dripping onto the floor. You never quite forgot the sound of the blood trickling onto the floor – tick, tack. Tick, tack. Tick, tack. You remember staring at the sight in front of you, and not being able to say a word to get her help – you were too focused on the blood – you were observing. How it trickled down, how it seemed to draw its own patterns onto her skin. You wondered what it might taste like, and if you could see something like that again soon. The first times are truly special and unforgettable, huh?

While you were lost in your own little world, Alejandro was still looking straight into your eyes. And he didn't know what to think – if the sight terrified the living hell out of him, or if it… turned him on. The passion in your eyes was undeniable, and it was a truly beautiful and fascinating sight to witness. But the fact of what he asked about – your reason behind years and years of bloodshed, in the most violent, cruel ways – and the way you responded to it was rather terrifying. The look in your eyes said everything he needed to hear and more, and nothing at all at the same time. He decided to look you up and down, something he hasn’t done today yet. He already got a good view of your face – covered in blood. He couldn't even make out your freckles that he loved so much – he might or might have not imagined kissing them all a few times. Moving onto your hair, another trait that was so fascinating about you – it seemed to flow like a river beautifully, even if tied up. Right now? It was covered in blood. Dried up blood, mud, and probably even some human remains. His eyes slide down, his eyes catching onto your gear first – it looked like it just went through hell – a few bullet holes, tears, and various stains decorated it, almost with pride. Your arms – oh, boy… You for sure look like you work out, and he caught himself thinking of you squishing his skull with those arms. He could see a spot where a bullet grazed your skin – it looked pretty fresh. He looked down at your legs for a second, but he didn't exactly like the thoughts that seemed to instantly creep into his head – so he shook it off and looked back to your eyes. He expected to see your zoned out gaze looking away – but you were looking straight into his eyes, an eyebrow raised, no trace of the manic smile left on your lips. He felt like he got caught, and his eyes widened.

“What, scared? Gods… You're acting like an awkward teenager in front of a hot teacher” the words leave your mouth, mocking him. However, your tone doesn’t change – the calm, cold, and almost seductive one that everyone has engraved into their brains. Its enough to send a shiver through anyone's spine.

You slowly reach for the cigarettes and your lighter in one of your pockets, not wanting to scare him that much – you feel like you did enough today – the look on his face after your latest sentence… you shook the poor man to the core. He seemed like he wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing. He doesn't even notice your movements until he hears the sound of a lighter, and sees you light a cigarette. It was yet another sight that he loved looking at – you blowing out the smoke. You seemed to have a habit of blowing out the first inhale throughout your nose – and he wondered if you'll do it this time as well. Ah, here it is. The smoke slowly left your nostrils in the form of some pretty clouds. The look on your face didn’t change, at all – but he caught a satisfied sigh escape your lips. You pull away the cigarette, and he can see the blood that transferred from your lips - he can suddenly feel a shiver slither through his spine. He feels like the time has gone cold – just your eyes staring at him existed at this very moment. For a moment, he forgets that he's currently holding a gun to your head.

“I don't know about your thought process… but. We're both wrong here. Yet you don’t seem to want to take your part of the blame. Don't you think?” You speak up again, your voice visibly lower. Your gloved fingers put the cigarette back between your lips, and you slowly slip the gloves off, revealing blood soaked hands. Completely covered in a deep crimson red. As you do so, you still inhale the smoke and blow it out with the cigarette never leaving your lips.

Meanwhile, Alejandro just stares at you. He still looks a little embarrassed by the fact that he got caught checking out the enemy, but now, he's also completely caught up inside of his own thoughts. You really had him thinking – has he been avoiding the obvious? Himself? He slowly pulls the gun away from your temple, and lowers it. He's still looking at a random point in the distance, somewhere behind you – his gaze is so intense that it almost makes you look the same way.

You take this as an opportunity to take a step towards him, now definitely invading his personal space – you could feel his breath on your face, if you angled your head right. You lean closer to his ear.

“Think about it.” – the words leave your mouth slowly. You inhale some more of the cigarette, and blow the smoke out. You don’t turn away, however, and it hits Alejandro’s neck – secretly, hes loving every second of this.. “¿Quizás tú también eres culpable? Sabes que estás muy, muy lejos de ser dorado…” you add, now in a whisper. You're not looking into his eyes at the moment, but you can hear him choke on air – you know spanish? All this time, he was speaking the language whenever he didn't really want you to understand – be it something filthy, or something he was just too ashamed to admit.

You put the cigarette back between your lips while a smirk spreads across them, pulling away from him, taking a few steps back. And you continue doing so, wanting to leave. Alejandro was about to say something, but he sees you spinning his pistol around… his pistol. In your hands. How the hell…? But he can't help but let a grin spread as he laughed – this happens every time. Every. Damn. Time. He arrives to capture you, and each time it seems like he's about to succeed – but you always leave. Smoothly. Just like that. You now turn around, and put some more speed in your step. He stares at you as you leave. Just as you thought that he's not going to say anything anymore, you hear his voice, a smirk in his tone is evident - coming from back where you left him.

“Hasta la próxima, cariño.”

#call of duty #alejandro vargas #fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main · 1 year

Text

Being Bloodhounds Younger Sibling pt. 2

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Reader: Gender Netural | "you" | Platonic

Notes: the gif makes me smile, bloodhound smiling 🥺

Warnings: none really? Fighting?

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

To be honest, when you seen Bloodhound ontop of Fuse like that you were tramatized.

"Y/n-"

Just immediately closing the door.

"I understand your pain now Arthur."

Finally someone gets his pain.

So in traumtization buddies, you feed him instead, along with giving Bear a snack because he ate already

Akward...

You best be sure when Fuse and you get placed on a team he's like:

"So. Eh..heh...hows your day going."

"Good. I suppose. But your face reminds me of the time my sibling was ontop of you."

"Ah...eh...houndy likes to feel poweful."

"My sibling is powerful. You cannot handle them. They go soft on you."

Fuse figures out soon that you dont exactly know what your talking about....

But that kinda makes Fuse think. Is bloodhound easy on him?

Fuse tries to get to know you the best you'll let him. Your standoffish, keep to yourself, Pathfinder is someone thats only really gotten close to you, both physically and mentally.

Its true you've stuck yourself to Pathy while out and about, he showed you kindess and was simply pure of heart

So he was allowed to hug you, allowed to get in your personal space

He just has a vibe that makes him want to be around.

Despite you not suppose to be as he's technology

You see alot of Vantage, Fuse and Bloodhound together.

You figured Vantage is there daughter but wonder why you hadnt been introduced yet.

But before you could bring any of that up your older sibling comes knocking at your door.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Come in."

Bloodhound walks in taking off the mask and helmet, setting it down, "Come. Sit."

Y/n and Bloodhound take a seat on the floor, "i have something for you."

Y/n watched as a box was handed towards them.

"They will aid you."

Y/n was silent as Bloodhound opened the box, "They will help you hear again. Better, easier."

Y/n looked at the book and shook there head.

"Y/n please."

"That is against our ways."

"Y/n." Bloodhound spoke grabbing there hand, "We cannot keep ignoring our future. Rayma has made them for you. They blend in with your hair and skin, they will be hard to see."

Y/n was silent as they watched Bloodhound take them out the box. They trusted Bloodhound with there full heart and mind, and allowed there sibling to fit them to there ears.

"There-"

A loud ringing came with the word as Y/n quickly pulled them out tossing them away holding there ears in pain.

"Sorry! I'm sorry-"

Bloodhound was quick to grab them from the floor, "too strong I suppose. I will turn them down."

Y/n watched as Bloodhound fixed they twisted a little nib, "Lets do one for now."

With time, Bloodhound adjusted them perfectly to your ears

But they couldnt help the look they were given, you looked lost

Maybe this was the final straw? There really was no going back to the old ways

Bloodhounds thankful to Rayma/Rampart,

And like always they help you adjust

And its werid being able to hear everyone so clearly now.

Pathfinder's excited for you, like holding your hands jumping around excited and Wattson joins in

You dont exactly know whats going on

But to thank Rampart you carve something nice,

You stick with a Prowler, the type that stalk the snowy mountains.

While your carving Pathfinder comes over to talk to you on the drop ship.

"So thats bloodhounds sibling?" Vatnage asked.

"Yeah. That the's rumour goin around!" Rampart smiled, "To be honest though mate, we'll never know by looks. No ones ever seen ol' houndy's face."

"Im gonna go say Hi!"

Vantage happily marched her way over, Y/n silent despite Pathfinder's constant talking.

"Hello! Im Mara!"

Y/n looked up then back down at there carving.

"Ooo you carve too? Im a carver myself." Vantage cheered watching Echo relocated infront of Bear.

"Bloodhound is with Fuse. I believe they are the upper deck." Y/n spoke, "Do not eat the bat."

Bear backed up and pouted, Y/n going back to work.

"Wow. You knew before he even opened his mouth! Thats pretty keen!" Vantage cheered, "But I heard your Bloodhound's sibling. You're a hunter too then?"

Vantage was answered with Silence, "You're name's Y/n right? What was your village like?"

Silence again, "Silence is fun too! I'll sit with you and carve with you!"

Y/n was quiet, they always were, after all they had no social skills outside there sibling relationship.

But with this Y/n couldn't help but feel....replaced.

Bloodhound had Fuse, and Vatnage.

They an odd little makeshift family

You didnt wanna ruin anything bloodhound had made for themselves, but the idea of them kinda just going off and leaving to make a new family kinda hurt

You'd never admit that though.

"Hey! Mara!" Mirage cheered making his way over.

"Mr. Witt!" She smiled, "Mr.Witt! This is Y/n! They're bloodhound's sibling! Well. I think they are atleast. Y/n! This is Mr.Witt! He's super cool!"

"I just came to introduce myself to the g-gor-to the pretty new person." Mirage flirted.

"Do you think you are pretty?" Y/n questioned.

"A little yeah." Mirage smiled, leaning on the nearby crates just to slip and fall, Y/n watching him scramble to his feet.

"So! Me? You!? Pork chops?" He smiled, "I have booze! Wait- that sounds wrong- I'm a bar tender! A good one at that!"

"If you're asking me for a partnership you must ask the eldest of my house."

"Oh! Yeah! Parent consent's...cool. even at our age...anyway-"

"Bloodhound is on the upper deck." Y/n responded.

"Huh?"

"Bloodhound is eldest." Y/n informed, "It is bloodhounds word."

Wait....he's....gott ask...

NOT THE HUNTER.

He'll admit. Bloodhound, sweet, nice, but in situations like the games, and serious moments they're pretty uh....spoopy

BUT HE GOES THROUGH WITH IT

WAIT- NO- WAIT MIRAGE NO

"So...Y/n..."

Bloodhound looked at the man, "ah you have met my sibling. I do hope they did not stab you, social skills are not there strong suit."

"No! No! No!"

"Then?"

"I wanted to take them to the bar. Ya know. Hang out with them."

"The bar is not there strong suit i assure you. If you wish to hang out with them truly. Ask to go on a hunt."

"Aye! Witt ya ol' fella!" Fuse cheered coming up with two bottles in his hand, handing one to bloodhound, "if I'da known ya were gonna be here I'da brought you a bottle."

"Im not staying long. Just askin about Y/n."

"Yeah? What's up with the kiddo anyway? Stab anyone new?"

"Witt was hoping to go on....a hangout as he called it." Bloodhound commented.

"Ya wanna take Y/n out on a date?" Fuse commented, "Good Luck."

"What is that ment to mean?" Bloodhound spoke.

"What? Nothin. Y/n...the kid's...just uh." Fuse told, "Diffrent....ya know?"

"No. That is why I inquired."

"The kids....hard to be friendly with. Kids...off putting, rough around the edges."

"You are saying my sibling is rude-"

"No-"

"Then what?" Bloodhound asked standing up.

"I told ya! Y/n's rough around the edges!" Fuse spoke in defense, "Hey! Maybe witt will smooth em out, huh?-"

"Y/n does not need smoothing out. None the less a man nor woman to do so." Bloodhound argued, "here."

The bottle was shoved in Witt's chest, he catching it quickly, "Goodbye. I need to check on Arthur."

"Houndy! I didn-"

But bloodhound was already gone.

You were confused as Bloodhound came back upset though No one could tell but seemingly you

You chased them down worried.

"No need. I am alright." Bloodhound reassured, "I will be back-"

Y/n grabbed Bloodhound by the shoulder stopping them, "Last time you said you'd be back you left....for a long time."

Bloodhound sighed, "I. I am sorry."

"You have apologized enough. I just want to you to tell me whats going on. I can not stop you if you wish to leave."

"A small tussel with Fitzroy is all." Bloodhound responded, "I supoose I am a little defensive as of recent."

So you go to sit with your sibling. Its nice to be in each others presence even in silence.

You're for sure targeting Fuse next match.

So it helps that next match you get put with Revenant and Mad Maggie.

"I want Fitzroy's head."

"I like you already skinsuit."

Talk about trail following. Dude your like ontop there team.

Fuse, Loba and Bloodhound all on one team

So you'd for sure have to take out Fuse secluded.

Luckily your able to single him out, throwing him against a wall.

"Woah now! Houndy wouldn't like you killin' me eh?" Fuse tried to persuade, a joke in the tone of his voice.

"You upset them."

"Ah. That. We talked that out I swear!"

"Hm." Y/n hummed in thought, "Oh well, better luck next time."

finisher for the kill? absolutely

But then Maggie's shouting she's down, and Revenant follows quickly after.

"One last egg! Callin it your family!"

Oh...Is Bloodhound the last one standing?

you can be sure there's an epic standoff.

"May the all father guide my victory."

"And may the Ragnarok falling be as brutal as yours shall be this day."

Bloodhound chuckled, "You were always one for the fall."

"The fall is just as important as the rise." Y/n spoke in defense, "you taught me that."

"You listened well for having been impaired," Bloodhound praised, let us see if your tongue is as swift as your knife."

"Verbalailty is something you reached me not to lean on as well." Y/n spoke, both taking a step forward, "I do hope your age has not impaired you much."

With the last words, they charged at one another, cargo bots that also acted as cameras in the games focused in on the two.

"Hey! Hey! wait!" Wattson called, "Look!"

The two teams stopped the firing, and they all looked at one of the larger screens that were usually meant to show legends, playing the battle out.

"You never bring a knife to a gunfight," Bangalore spoke.

"I don't think it's the gun Y/n's worried about," Wraith told in defense.

"An interesting fighter indeed," Ash praised, "but stupid, very, stupid."

Y/n was knocked on their side, groaning, knife and axe were knocked away.

"You fought well little one." Bloodhound praised, "But I must finish what I have started."

Bloodhound was quick to grab their own axe, Y/n getting to their feet as they stood ready to defend.

Cue the epic battle music

You werent giving up easy, and neither was your older sibling

Think about the Kratos verus Thor fight from the beginning of the game, and...just...thats you guys

But when weapons get knocked away, slidding off the side of the platform is when you both finally realize your just above lava

You got pinned to the railing but managed to fill bloodhound over you barely catching there hand before they fell into the lava below.

"What are you doing!?" Bloodhound argued, "let me go!"

Y/n looked down at them, they'd kill Bloodhound for victory? For Slatra...

"I. I can't!" Y/n argued.

"Y/n! Let me go you've won!" Bloodhound defended.

"I cant! I can't!"

"Why not!?"

"I can't loose you!"

Its like morality had struck you, you were killing your sibling.

"Y/n. Let me go." Bloodhound ordered, "I will be alright. Remember. It is just a game. I will see you back on the ship."

Y/n looked down, loosinging there grip, "You promise?"

"I promise."

So, you dropped Bloodhound, winning the smaller battle, and picked up both teammates.

"Ya crack an egg, good on you kid."

"yeah. Thanks..."

Okay everybody going back to fighting now

Sure enough, you did

You didn't win, placed in the top three though.

You could care less though and ran straight to Bloodhound hugging them tightly.

They congratulate you on your success, you were doing quite well for being new

no matter how old you get praise from your older sibling is always reassuring

Mad Maggie out of all people consoles you, sitting beside you

"You took a big step eh?" She spoke, "It gets easier kids, don't cha worry! Take it from me."

"You're people."

She looked at Y/n and chuckled, "Eh, Salvo's one hell of a dog's arse if I say so at the moment."

"You're people are lucky to have a warrior such as yourself."

"Suppose I'm a bit of a fuck up. Especially when it come to the family."

Y/n looked at her as she handed over a bottle, "One for the top three."

Y/n nodded taking the bottle, "I suppose, I am a fuck up as well."

"Don't let it get ya down-"

Maggie went silent as she watched Y/n chug the liquid from the bottle, "ugh!" Y/n gaged pulling it away "Burns-"

She only laughed as their gagging self.

Here comes Mirage asking you out again,

"On a hunt."

"You hunt here?"

"yeah sure why not."

It's been a while since you went on a hunt, and so you invited Bloodhound excitedly.

Vantage wants to go and even cuts in asking.

You are still iffy about Vantage: you can't help it, just human nature you suppose, being jealous.

But here comes octane wanting to join too,

"A group hunter sounds refreshing. Y/n?"

You nodded and said you were inviting one more person too then.

So when you're all dropped off and given a few days rest, you all gather at a ship, and there you come dragging Revenant

Mirage wishes he just invited you to read in his room at this point.

#x reader #bloodhound apex #gender neautral reader #bloodhound apex legends #apex legends bloodhound #apex legends x reader #apex legends x gender neutral reader #male or female reader #gender neutral y/n #x y/n #video game fic #apex legends #apex legends fanfic #fanfic

159 notes · View notes

jinchuls-moved · 5 months

Text

hi, important lil note

pseud change, jinx -> echo

you don’t have to read but there’s a not so thought out ramble of all the thoughts in my head rn under the cut. i feel like ive been tricking people and i want to explain myself

okay so, i moved blogs when i was in a very negative space. i only stayed away for about a month, i missed tumblr and i missed writing even if it took me a hot minute to feel good enough to even be semi active on here.

tumblr can fucking suck. i left because there was drama with a few people that left me a mess honestly, those people have since been blocked and i started to feel a little bit better. i also noticed a number of people breaking mutual with me, which i completely understand curate your space as you need i’ve done it a few times myself, but the amount of people that did in a short time (as far as i noticed) gave me a terrible feeling and i needed to leave. i felt unwelcome and like i had done something wrong to people i had only interacted with a few times. this was on top of a lot of stuff i had going on irl, i felt so fucking alone in every aspect on my life regardless of my friends that made it so obvious they were there for me. i hated how i was at the time, and i appreciate every single person that stuck by me.

so i made this blog for a fresh start. i thought a new pseud and a new blog would make me feel better. and it did, for a while. my friends knew and they listened to my request to change tags, not refer to me as any previous nicknames and essentially not make it too obvious it was me. although i don’t think it was entirely impossible to tell. but now i miss all those things, i miss being stupid with my friends, i miss getting to call my best friend my wife on dash, i miss getting to miss astrology aims and mother nesi nesi, i miss the mutuals i used to have that i didn’t tell about the move because i was scared they were going to think i was stupid. i miss the url i kept going back to bc i loved it (possibly the most silly reason but still ukaishin holds a special place in my heart)

and it just doesn’t feel right. everyone has been so nice to me so far and it feels wrong knowing that wasn’t how echo ended, it makes me wonder what was wrong with me then that wasn’t now? but reality is, it’s nothing. shit happens, i needed time to get over a lot of things and it took time. even quite recently i had a terrible evening because of an old mutual. as in i had a mental breakdown because they added one stupid word to an ask that made me feel pathetic for sitting there the night before crying about how much i was missing them to aims.

getting called jinx in dms throws me off, i appreciate those that knew me first as echo using the new pseud, but it never took. it was never a name i was happy with (except for the first couple weeks on this blog) and im sorry for any confusion and having to switch pseuds again. i just don’t want to move blogs, i don’t want to have a whole thing i just want tumblr to be the happy place it was for me for almost 2 years. it got me through uni, being on here with the friends i’d made, i spend my final year of school in a constant mental breakdown, crying on the phone to my mum almost everyday and it was kaze that kept me going, motivating me to get my degree. it was kaze that flew to england to meet me and attend my graduation. it was aims that was the first person to reach out to me and give me the type of friendship i needed. it was everyone in our silly delululand server that made me laugh and reminded me that no matter how shit people were there were good ones. and it’s the good that’s made me feel better. and the good that makes me want to try one more time to maintain that happy place i had 2 years ago

that got too sappy but i refuse to edit <3

#you don’t have to reblog or anything #this is more for me n my mutuals #sorry #can retire the definitelynotecho blog i made entirely to piss off kaze on her bday

19 notes · View notes

actually-a-fish · 17 days

Text

The Mitchells vs. The Machines

Hello! I like watching movies. Ideas get stuck in my head while watching them and i need them out of my brain. This is my 4/9/24 viewing of The Mitchells vs. The Machines. I like cartoons :)

This will have spoilers

Without further ado... my thoughts chronologicall

PROLONGED EYE CONTACT DODODODOD

The main VA is Abbie Jacobson (aka Princess Tiabeanie Mariabeanie de la Rochambeau Grunkwitz)

this family reminds me so much of mine minus depression and a commitment to a cult :)

girl its probably a good thing you weren't at the tech reveal. be nice to the siris, alexas and echos in your life...

i kinda wanna watch that robot movie with Will Smith and hot robots now

THEY ALL HAVE STIMS GUYS

running away from your crush and saying you hate them is so real

"what are these? robutts?"

HES TAKING NOTES

I like that the new genre of villian is a tech bro and AI

I dont like this bit about wifi, we are dependent on it yeah but people can adapt pretty well. Well some I guess.

why do dads always suggest eating the family pet?

i cannot express how autistic this family is. its constant, not demeaning or the butt of a joke. just a family being a family. I have flappy hands about it.

aww dads do love to teach their kids to drive stick shift

i do like Eric and Barbara

the robots are shooting the humans into space, that's their plan and honestly i've been saying we should shoot garbage into space for a while now so im glad somone is finally doing it

there are cute edits done by katie through the whole movie and they deserve a shout out

I knew touch screen fridges were a bad idea

NOT FURBYS WTF WHY THIS IS MY NIGHTMARE

"your whole lives i wanted to save you from disater and this is the moment ive been waiting for" - Rick (and also my father)

KATIE DRAWS ON HER HANDS TOO OMG THE DETAILS. THERE IS SO MUCH STIMMING AND IT MAKES ME HAPPY EVERY TIME

This is good family bonding, but no tears yet.

unfortunately i think the family bonding was to good. The dad left a sentimental object in katies bags and now im convinced hes gonna sacrifice himself to save the rest of the family.

now im crying. :) if you watched i bet you could guess which part.

oof crying again! a Twofer!

This movie may be healing my childhood trauma. I miss my parents. They were just doing their best

THE CALL BACKS. THE CULMANATION! ITS MAKING ME EMOTIONAL IM SORRY

thank you game grumps for introducing me to the song "Walk the Dinosaur" by Was (not was)

An accurate compilation of watching my coworkers and professors use computers

uh oh they got little brother, Linda is gonna rip out someone's heart

OH MY GOD I JUST THOUGHT SHE WAS GONNA GET MAD

ERIC AND BARBARA SUPREMECY

damn i need to see my family so i can remember why i hate them bc this is to sweet for me

TEAM E AND B! TEAM E AND B!

How long of a break between the entire world being abducted by robots and everyone going back to work was? Do you think this was like their pandemic

"My name is Monchi, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair"

THEYRE BASED ON A REAL FAMILY (and the whole family has "im easily overstimulated" hair cuts, its so relatable)

It's cheesy. full of stuff you know is meant for kids and that corporate made them do. but I really liked it. I know the whole bit is that the family is weird. I don't really like that they used the word weird instead of autistic but i can kinda understand why they had to do it. i found myself relating the characters constantly. The way they run away when things get overwhelming, communicate through their interests, stim when they have big feelings (they all have their own, and most of them have a couple they do) and the way the situation their in affects them. It is not perfect representation but it did a good enough job for me.

If you read all the way through thank you! If you have any formatting tips please lmk!

Also I feel the silly need to add, this is all my opinion, and my opinion is not fact! It's okay if we don't agree and if you're nice, I would love to hear about it :)

#ihavedaddyissues #the mitchells vs the machines #autism #neurodivergent #special interest #dinosaur #spoilers #the mitchells vs the machines spoilers

6 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 2 years

Note

darling, congrats on your milestoneeeee !!! so proud of you, duckie, you deserve all the love and support !! I'm sorry I haven't been reblogging your fics to the net for a while, I've been focusing on myself., but I'm going to do that soon !! if it's not too much trouble, would you consider writing a suggestive something or other for mingi ? *wink wonk* >;) maybe he's chilling on the couch and reader comes into the apartment and he's looking too good for words D;

𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

song mingi x gn!reader

0.5k words, suggestive, making out, two curse words lol

a/n: kari my beloved, ty for sending in a request!! i hope u enjoy it, if ur seeing this 🤧✨ i hope ur resting well and ur taking care of urself as well !! miss u the mostest 😞💖

Right as the apartment door closed, you heard Song Mingi perk up from where he lounged on the couch. "Baby, you're home! I missed you~"

You opened your mouth to return the sentiment, only to turn around and realize—well, shit. Was it just you or did your boyfriend seem a lot more… delectable today?

It wasn't like Mingi never looked delicious on a normal day, it was only because maybe the loose gray sweats and the tight fitted white shirt (he really should have been properly banned from the gym) were putting you in a daze. His silver-grey hair fell gently over his forehead, with some of the strands hanging in the frame of his thin circle lenses seated on his nose. He looked so effortlessly a god, lounging on a throne of soft leather sectional. You could just…

"Baby? Are you okay?" Mingi cocked his head to the side in worry, completely oblivious to the burning thoughts in your head. You really needed to get your head out of the gutter.

You shook your head and dumped your keys into the glass bowl by the door with a metallic clatter. "Yeah, I'm okay," you murmured, making your way toward him, "I'm just a little…"

You settled onto his lap, his big hands coming to rest on your waist. "Distracted." You heard his breath hitch as your hand pressed flat against his chest and slowly felt him from beating heart to sculpted abdominals.

His dark eyes dilated, tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. "Distracted?" He echoed.

"Mhm," you hummed.

You leaned in and captured his bottom lip between your teeth, then swallowed his moan whole with your mouth. You shifted your legs, straddling his waist, arms looping around his neck. When you came up for a moment of air, you asked, "Sorry, was that okay?"

"Oh fuck, it was more than okay," he breathed, then pressed his lips to yours again. Mingi fell back against the couch cushion and grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, his fingers long enough to hold your jaw and position you just the way he wanted. Every sensation was fully zeroed in on the man under you and devouring you—his aftershave and musk suffocating your lungs, hard muscle beneath your fingertips and thighs. Sometimes you wondered if you would ever get enough of him.

You were then laid on the couch, his body hovering over you, heavy pants intermingling. His silver hair stuck up in a strange, yet endearing way. He smiled, lips pouty and red. It looked innocent to the naked eye, but you saw the animalistic gleam in his irises. Even through his fogged lenses, you could see the desire swimming in his eyes, begging you to fulfill them.

"You've had a long day, huh?" He purred, voice raw, fingertips trailing down your thigh.

You nodded, tongue licking your lips. You reached up and plucked the glasses off his nose, tucking them away on the arm of the couch. "You just look so good, Mingi-ah."

You saw the break in his form. His cheeks flushed an adorable pink. Your fingers danced along the nape of his neck. "Can I show you how pretty you are?" You asked him.

His mouth parted; nodded.

"Then c'mere," you cooed, and dragged his lips back down to yours. You both were in for a long night.

a/n: don't forget to rb, comment, etc if u liked it!! :3

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunny1428 @shakalakaboomboo @hoohoohope

#ateez x reader #song mingi x reader #mingi x reader #ateez drabble #ateez oneshot #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #mingi scenarios #mingi drabble #mingi imagines

218 notes · View notes

witchersmistress · 11 months

Text

The Basement part 2

Hello my lovies!! Part 2 of the basement scene, this is part three for rainstorms and hate sex, im know there will be a few unanswered questions.

as per my usual. i do not give permission to copy my work or use my work in anyway without permission. so help me if you do, i will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Trigger Warnings: Clausterphobia, small spaces, foul language, 18+ highly reccomended.

Word count: 6.4K

Fuck. My phone’s battery is about one percent. Still, it’s better than the alternative. I tense as I step past Baron, sure he’s going to grab me. He lets me pass, but Duke reaches out and pinches my tit. Okay, talking shit is one thing, and his rape jokes are bad enough, but now he laid a hand on me. “Oh, you want to get physical?” I ask, my hands balling into fists. “Yeah,” he says with a sloppy grin. “That’s right, baby. Let me taste that sweet cherry pie.” I swing, and he doesn’t even duck. It’s a beautiful right hook that meets his temple with the aim of a fucking archer. He crumples to the floor in a heap, and I jump back, fists raised and adrenaline pumping through me, ready for Baron to come at me.

“You gonna come get yours?” I ask. He just shakes his head. “I’ve felt your fists. Besides, I’m more into the challenge than taking what I can by brute force.” I didn't trust him for a second, so I went back into the next room. It’s dark in there, since this is the only flashlight. I swallow hard, wiping my hands on my jeans, and feel my way to the dirt tunnel. It’s chilly in the basement, and my clothes are still damp from the rain. At least, I tell myself that’s why I start shivering the second my shins are on the cold dirt floor of the tunnel. I force myself onwards, my heart thudding in my ears. To avoid thinking about the ceiling collapsing, I focus on the tunnel behind me, trying to hear if Baron’s coming in with me. Each scrape of my own knees on the floor makes me tremble. God, it’s so tight. My shoulders are pressed against the walls, and I wonder if maybe this tunnel doesn’t lead out at all. Maybe it leads to… Nothing.

I’ll be stuck in a dead end in the dark, waiting for Duke to come rape me and probably kill me. Because fuck if I’m just going to lie there and take it without fighting back. I’ve seen way too many movies where people go into a cave or a tunnel looking for escape and instead come upon a pile of skeletons left by all the other idiots who tried to escape before them. The ceiling of the tunnel brushes my back—or was it a bat?—and I think I’m going to be sick. I close my eyes and try to breathe, though it feels like there’s no oxygen in the tunnel. What the fuck am I doing? I’ve just basically buried myself alive. I press my palms to the cold dirt under them and think about the nights I spent locked in the closet at home. The hours I’d be in there, sometimes so long I wet myself before Mom dragged her hungover ass up and remembered where I was.

Then she’d rage at me and smack me around a little and tell me to clean myself up, that I was a disgusting pig. Or if she had a boyfriend over, she’d howl with laughter at my wet pants because she didn’t want men to see her pissed. A sense of humor is sexy, after all. No one likes an angry woman. I take another ragged breath, forcing it into the constricted airways to my panicked lungs. This is not that bad. And if I could clean up myself and the closet without crying back then, I sure as fuck won’t cry now. I didn’t freak out then, and I won’t freak out now. Once, she locked me in a cabinet because she said I’d lose my claustrophobia if I just faced it. I was curled up in a ball, with my knees to my chest, for hours. I have all the room in the world here. I could lie down flat and crawl on my stomach. I can roll over. I can move. I start forward again. After a time, I hear echoing scuffles high above. I reach up a tentative hand and can’t feel the ceiling. I climb to my knees, then my feet. Relief floods through me in a rush that brings tears to my eyes and a whoop of relief to my throat. Blinking back the wetness, I hold a hand in front of me and one on the wall, and I walk until the wall falls away. I turned on my phone for the last time. No skeletons. No cage with Mabel Darling being held captive like Gretel waiting for the witch to eat her. There are two tunnels off the side of a cavernous room. I continue straight ahead, and at the far side of the room, I find a door, just like Baron said. Heart galloping in my chest, I find the knob and twist. It doesn’t budge.

Fuck. I sink down on the floor, shaking with spent energy, the adrenaline leaving my limbs. My fingers are trembling and stiff with cold, but I try to pick the lock for a while, anyway. When I can’t, I consider sleeping here. At least I’m away from the guys. But it’s so fucking cold, and I’m shivering so hard I can’t possibly relax. My phone dies, and suddenly, the darkness seems close and oppressive and terrifying. Even though I wasn’t using the light, there was comfort in knowing it was an option if I needed it. Now, a drunk obnoxious Duke seems preferable to staying here alone, not knowing if someone will come through the door and who it might be. But going back to the twins means facing the tunnel again. I did it before, though. I can do it again. I know there are no forks until the tunnel opens up, which means I just have to find the tunnel in the dark and hope it’s the right one. It’s not too hard. I just have to go straight ahead. I gather all my courage and creep across the room in the dark. When I find the tunnel, I take a deep breath and barrel in. I don’t think, just charge through as fast as I can. Somehow, it doesn’t seem so bad on the way back. When I finally see a scant light ahead, my heart starts racing with relief. I burst out of the tunnel into the dirt room in the basement of the CIA office. The familiarity itself is a relief, and I can finally breathe easy. Duke is sitting up in a chair, a beer in one hand, his eyes unfocused and his jaw slack. A lump has already formed where I decked him. Baron sits on the stone slab, his phone sitting beside him with the light on.

“How was it?” he asks, holding up his beer. “Fuck you,” I say. “You knew it was locked.” “Faced your fears, though, didn’t you? One more Midnight Swan challenge down.” “Is that what this is?” I ask. “My initiation?” “Depends,” he says. “It could be.” “Bullshit. August said I could never join.” “August’s not the only Swan,” Baron counters. “He’s your leader.” “He’ll be done with you after tonight, and then he won’t care what happens to you. That’s how it works with him. When he’s done, you don’t exist to him anymore.” “Fine,” I say, planting my hands on my hips. “What do I need to do next?” “You tell me, Stalker Girl.” “Betray a friend for a Swan. See, that one might be hard, since I don’t have friends.” “Gloria’s a friend,” he says. “I’m a friend.”

“Are you, though?” He holds out a beer, the cap still on. “Have a beer. Relax. We’ll be here a while.” “I like to stay sharp.” “Me too,” he says, taking a drink from his beer. “But one beer won’t hurt.” I relent and take it. At least it might warm me up a little, and to be honest, I need to calm down and think this through. Like when they threw me in the dumpster with Colt, I’m attacking a big problem with a tiny knife. If I chill and wait it out, someone will come open the door. If this is some kind of hazing for the Midnight Swans, then I need to see what they want me to do. So, I sat down on the stone slab next to Baron. “What’s the last challenge?” I ask. “The gauntlet.” “For a girl?” he asks. “That means we sex you in.” I force myself to swallow my beer without reaction. “Who does?” “All of us.” I squeeze the cold bottle to keep my hands from shaking. “All the Swans?” “A gangbang, baby,” Duke slurs, holding up his beer. “And this has happened before?” I ask.

“No,” Baron says. “Because no chicks at this office would do it. But I bet you would.” “You bet wrong.” “Well, technically, the gauntlet only requires the participation of three Swans,” he says. “And you’ve already fucked August. So you're a third of the way there.” “This is your chance,” Duke says. “Three for three.” He leans forward in his chair, then tilts slowly until he topples out, as if in slow motion. It would be comical, but I’m a little worried he’s going to choke on his puke and die in his sleep. “He’s not wrong,” Baron says. Duke rolls onto his back on the floor. “Gonna rest my eyes,” he mumbles. “Then we’ll tag team her.” “My phone died,” I say after a minute, nodding at Baron’s light. “Want to call someone to let us out?” “No can do,” he says, taking a drink. “No service down here.” “Right.” We sip our beers in silence for a few minutes. Then Baron climbs off the rock and sits on the floor beside Duke. “My phone’s going to die if I don’t turn off the light,” he says. “We should all just get some sleep.”

“Why don’t I trust you in the dark?” “Because you’re paranoid and think everyone wants to fuck you.” “Says the guy who was just trying to get in my pants.” “That was me,” Duke says, not opening his eyes. “Come sit by us,” Baron says. “It’ll be warmer. I won’t mess with you.” “Fine,” I say, sliding off the stone and going to sit by them. Despite Duke’s usual drunken asshole behavior, they haven’t done anything. Baron’s right. They are my friends. We’ve been hanging out for a few months now. I sit with them every day at lunch, go to their games, and am part of their circle. It’s not like it was at the beginning of the year, before I was a Walker's girl. I’m under August’s protection now. They might want him to be done with me, might try to convince me it’s true. But I know different things, and they know it, too. He didn’t lock us down here. Baron did. Baron has the key. He wants August to dump me, but he won’t risk his brother’s rage by touching his plaything before August gives the okay. Baron turns off his light, and we both lie down. He turns toward me, and I tense, but he only lays an arm across me. “So, not into being a Swan if it means you have to work for it?” “Would you let three dudes fuck you to get in?” “Touché.”

For a while, none of us spoke. After a while, Baron sighs. “You know, this is where they kept August when he was kidnapped,” he says drowsily. A chill explodes over my skin, and I lose my breath for a second. “What?” “Not in the main room,” Baron says, petting my hair absently. “Back here, in the dirt like an animal.” “And he still comes down here?” I ask, remembering that weird encounter in the dark, when he brought me down here and started kissing me and said all those creepy things… It’s safe here, in the dark. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Suddenly, I’m dizzy with the realization of how sick this all is—him forcing girls down here to blow him, those things he said that probably some sicko said to him… “Are you kidding?” Duke asks. “Our brother’s not afraid of anything.”

I can hear the pride in his voice, and it’s sweet how much he thinks of his big brother. But it doesn’t change how fucked up this is. Maybe it was him that locked me in here with his brothers, knowing what they might do to me. “He’s the one who wanted to keep the Swans going after the office and the police shut them down,” Baron says. “He wanted to come down here when we all thought it was a bad idea. But he wanted to keep the meetings here.” “Why?” I ask, too terrified to even think about it.

“Probably to show how little it affects him,” Baron says. “To show the Darlings they didn’t win.” I’m not convinced. If anything, it shows me how much it still affects him. He can’t let it go, just like he can’t stop going to the bridge, where I’m pretty sure his sister died. Instead of avoiding everything, he revels in the pain of it like a masochist, never letting himself forget. He’s punishing himself, though I can’t begin to imagine what he thinks he did wrong in either instance. “He’s not going to let that shit own him,” Duke says. “He rules his past.” “Can I ask you something?” I say after a minute. “When he was kidnapped… Was he assaulted?” “Yeah,” Baron says. “They beat the fuck out of him. Like, half his teeth are implants. He had a concussion, but he wanted to go right back out on the field.” He sounds so proud, like that makes his brother a hero. My ribs ache at the thought of August needing to prove himself that badly. “Dad had to find a doctor who would sign off for him to play,” Duke says, laughing and then hiccupping. “He was so pissed the first one wouldn’t. I think he got him fired. Then he found a good one.” “Now they golf together,” Baron says with a chuckle. “You never know when you’ll need a medical professional. Helps to have all kinds in your pocket.”

A shiver rolls through me. I wonder how much of that fight was August’s, and how much was Mr. Dolce’s. This is how they took power. Paying off people to do what they want, bulldozing those who wouldn’t. Nothing stands in their way—like a father, like sons. Despite August’s resentment, they’re all on the same side, all in it together. August is eighteen. He doesn’t have to obey his father or even live there. He could stop going to Hockington if he wanted, but something keeps him going back. Is it the same thing that keeps him coming back here, some kind of penance? I clear my throat. “I meant, like, sexually assaulted.” “Dude, that’s fucked up,” Duke slurs. “August’s a man.” “Men get raped, too.” “August would never take it up the ass,” Baron says. “You really are sick, Jailbird” “Yeah,” Duke chimes in. “How could you ask that about a guy who’s fucking you? Does he seem gay to you?” “The ignorance of that statement is honestly astounding.” “Nothing like that happened,” Baron says flatly. “Old Man Darling brought him here, and he was beaten to within an inch of his life, had half his teeth knocked out, his skull fractured, ribs broken, shoulder dislocated… He

was starved and dehydrated and all kinds of shit. But don’t even think about anything perverted like that.” “Because none of that’s perverted,” I mutter. “Where’s my beer?” Duke asks. “Did they catch the guy?” I ask. “Sort of,” Baron says. “That whole investigation was botched from the start, though. The redneck cops around here don’t know how to deal with real problems.” Or maybe the problems weren’t as real as Baron thinks. Dixie told me that their own sister sent some letter saying it was all faked. But August couldn’t have faked that, could he? I mean, I guess he could have let someone beat him up and then say it was the Darlings, but damn. Those are some extreme lengths to go to just to frame someone. But then, August’s nothing if not extreme. And Dixie could be wrong. Maybe there was no letter, and if there was, maybe it wasn’t from Crystal at all but from a Darling trying to get the charges dropped. And here I am, helping them. “You found him here?” I ask, rubbing my arms, trying to get the goosebumps to go away.

“Has anyone seen my beer?” Duke asks, groping at me until I slap his hand away. His voice is slurred and sleepy, though, and I know we’re about to lose him for the night. “No one found him here,” Baron says. “Devlin’s dad put him in their attic to hide him until he died. But they found him before he did.” “Who found him?” “Crystal and Devlin.” I shudder harder. All I’ve ever heard from Colt and Dixie and even August is how great Crystal was—that everyone loved her, wanted her. She taught them so much. She was such a good, selfless person. But I haven’t heard this part. “After his dad tried to kill August, she still chose Devlin over him?” I ask. “Yeah,” Baron says. “August called her on it, too. He’s blunt as fuck. He thinks he did something wrong because of it, but she needed to hear it. And August’s never been afraid to hit those hard truths, y’know? He’ll say what everyone’s thinking, do the hard shit that no one else wants to do. He doesn’t let anything stand in his way. He gets shit done.” I can practically hear Baron and Duke both swelling with pride every time they talk about August. It’s clear they worship him. But that doesn’t mean they always agree with August. This is the first time I’ve heard anyone paint Crystal as anything less than a saint. I want to hear more, but I’m too fucking cold to ignore it. “Any chance someone left a jacket down here?” I ask. “Or a dry change of clothes?” Baron’s hand finds mine in the dark. “Damn, you are cold,” he says, sitting up. He moves around, and a second later, his warm hoodie envelopes me in its cozy fabric and the scent of him, like boys and faint cologne or deodorant. I pull it down over me and huddle into it with such gratitude I might be tempted to fuck him again if he asked. “Come here and put your head on me, and I’ll tell you both a bedtime story,” Baron says. “I’ve got an extra sucker you can eat while you listen. This is a little tale I like to call, The Fall of the Darlings. Don’t worry. It has a happy ending.”

I adjust my position so I’m lying perpendicular to Baron so I can rest my head on his stomach. It’s better than the cold floor. “Are you going to tell me about how August called your sister on choosing the Darlings over him, and she went ahead with it, anyway?” “Fucked up, right?” I can’t help but agree with him. Who would choose anyone over August? But then, that’s not fair. I’m just learning how crazy love makes a person. Who’s to say I wouldn’t sell out my own family for August? “Did his dad go to jail?” I ask, thinking of Mr. D, who wanted to live vicariously through my sex stories. No conjugal visits, apparently. “For a few months,” Baron says, pressing a sucker into my hand. “They charged him with conspiracy or intent or something along those lines. But his lawyer got him off. The legal system here is even more fucked up than New York. But we got justice.” I unwrap the sucker slowly in the dark. “You killed him?” “Nah,” Baron says. “August doesn’t believe in murder. He says death is easy. Life is suffering.” “So, he’s like an angry Buddha?” Baron chuckles. “Sure. If you die, your suffering ends. If you live, you can suffer for a long time.” “And you made him suffer?” “The whole family,” Baron says proudly.

“While Devlin’s dad was in jail, we made his mom play with us. That lasted a couple months, until she checked herself into Cedar Crest.” Even though people like me could never afford Cedar Crest, of course I’ve heard about the treatment facility. It’s one of the few local claims to fame, since celebrities hole up there for treatment on occasion. It’s basically a resort, or a psych hospital for the rich and famous. “Is she still there?” I ask, suddenly wondering if Mr. D is a man at all. “Nah, when Devlin’s dad got out of jail, he took her out and they moved away. Never even came back to see if they could salvage anything from the fire.” “That’s the house next door?” I ask. “Devlin’s house?” “Yep,” he says. “Such a tragedy it was lost in a fire.” I roll my eyes in the dark. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.” “Would we do something like that?” he asks, his tone filled with mock innocence. “You don’t know where he went?” “We know,” he says. “But they were gone from Faulkner, so we moved on. You know what was really fun, Harper?

Seeing their empire crumble as we dismantled it brick by brick.” “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sociopath?” “Aw, now, you like watching people, too, don’t you, Harper? Always nosing around our business, digging into August’s life. Trying to get him wrapped around your little finger. We’re not so different, you and me.” I shrug my shoulders against his side. “Maybe you’re right.” I’m not so sure, though. I don’t glory in people’s downfall. Or maybe I do. Before August meant something to me, I vowed to take them down. Not to take their throne, but just for the joy of watching them fall. Maybe I’m exactly like Baron, I just don’t hate the Walkers anymore. When they were my enemies, I wanted to watch them burn.

After a minute of sucking on our candy in silence, Baron shifts around to get comfortable and then goes on. “The grandfather Darling, John, had seven sons. All started with J. So we went through them all. After Devlin’s dad, Justin, there’s Joseph—Preston’s dad—and Jacob. That’s Colt and Mabel’s dad. Joseph went to prison for murder. That guy was definitely involved in August’s kidnapping. Get this. He’s such a dick that even Preston refused to be a character witness at his trial.” That’s the Darling I suspect is Mr. D. The one I’ve been feeding information to. I’ve thought of him as a friend before, but I know that’s an illusion created by my own lack. He’s not a friend. He’s a guy so evil his own son wouldn’t stand up for him. And I’ve been giving him information about a boy I love. It makes me feel sick and dirty in a way even his creepy sexual interest never has. Baron goes on when I don’t answer. “We fucked with Lindsey a little, but she was too easy, and then Preston threatened Gloria, so we moved on to Colt’s family. We had some fun with them.” I think of the missing finger on Colt’s hand, the burn scars. His dad’s missing finger, and his cane. Mabel is not just blowing out of town but changing her name so they can’t track her down. I swallow hard, wanting to hear the details I’ve been in the dark about for so long, but fuck. The blasé tone in Baron’s voice makes my skin crawl.

“And then there’s Jeremiah and Jedediah. Twins, actually. Jed had some kind of accident and died of blood loss. He had kids, but they’d already grown and moved away. Jeremiah has two kids. His son would have been a sophomore this year, but he disappeared mysteriously right before he would have started at Willow Heights. But he didn’t change his name, and see, I’m pretty good at finding people. We’ll be watching, and if he ever comes back, we’ll be ready. And then their daughter Magnolia will be a freshman next year. That’ll be fun.” “You don’t even know these people, and you’re literally torturing them until they die?” “They tortured August,” he says, as if that explains everything. “Some little twelve-year-old girl tortured August? Or, wait, she’d have been ten at the time?” “She’s a Darling,” he says. “They would have done the same to us. They tried. The difference is, wherever they tried, we succeeded.” “All because one of them dared to love your sister?” “They killed our sister,” he says, his voice hard. “There are two more Darling men, too. They were disowned by the grandfather and changed their names, but we found them. One of them had moved away, but one of them actually lived in the same trailer park where I believe you hail from. John Jr. I hear he was close with your mom a while back, maybe when you were really little?”

I don’t say anything to that. Lots of men have been close with my mom, and it’s not like I want to explain to Baron Dolce that my mom is a trailer park slut. “Never heard of him,” I say after a minute, because it feels like Baron’s expecting something. “Oh, well, I guess he OD’d, so he’s out of the picture, anyway.” “You literally studied Darling family history and found anyone with that name and just destroyed their lives?” “Not just their name,” he says. “Their blood. Blood makes family, not a name. A name is something you can hide behind or run from, but you can’t hide your DNA. Their blood is poison to this town. And poison has to be eliminated.” “That’s… Harsh.” “They started it.” I lie there not even sure what to say. I want to laugh at the ridiculous pettiness of his response. That’s all he has to say? They started it? That’s the excuse of a five-year-old on the playground. I’m pissed off for the Darlings and I barely know one of them. But shit. No wonder people say the Walkers are evil. They’re brutal as fuck, and Baron just sounds like he’s recounting a boring story about our grandparents when he talks. This isn’t something that happened to someone else, though. He and Duke and yes, August, did all this. Drove people to suicide. Had them imprisoned and committed to mental institutions. I shiver at the thought of what they would do if they found out I was reporting to someone about them. They’d fucking kill me is what. So I better get Mr. D what he wants and cut all ties, the sooner the better. “The Darlings started it by kidnapping August?” I ask, pulling the sucker from my mouth. “That, and stealing Crystal, and even before that, they fucked with our dad when he was in office here. Walkers never forget.” “Can I ask you something?” I say after thinking that over. “Why do you do anything your dad says? August’s 32, and you’re what? 26? You don’t have to do that.” “You wouldn’t understand,” he says. “You come from a fucked up family.” “And yours is so functional.” “Family is everything to the Walkers,” he says. “That’s what Crystal forgot.” “Damn,” I say. “That’s cold.” “It’s a fact,” he says. “People always say that—cold hard truth, cold hard facts. But facts aren’t cold anymore than they’re hot. They’re just facts.”

And that’s the cold part, I think to myself. This guy isn’t just cold, his heart is made of ice. August can make himself that way, but there’s some switch he flips inside to get there. But August feels. He feels a whole fucking lot, probably more than he wants to. Enough that he goes into that dead-eye mode to protect himself. Baron, though… Baron’s ice cold to the core. I remember thinking that about Mr. D, and I wonder yet again if I got it wrong, if it’s not a gross old guy but a hot young guy. “So, she forgot, and she died for it,” I say. “Is that what your dad says to get you to obey him? He threatens to kill you?” “Dad would never threaten us,” Baron says. “He used to use Crystal to get August to do what he wanted, though. But he’s not blunt like August. With Dad, it’s always a subtle suggestion, a gentle reminder of where we stand.” “You admire him,” I say. It’s laced through every word he speaks, in his tone of voice, as clear as his admiration for his brother. That makes him that much scarier. He’s so detached it’s unnatural and a little terrifying. How can that same boy be lying here stroking my hair and pillowing my head, giving me his sweatshirt when I’m cold and telling me I’m his friend? “He’s a self-made millionaire,” Baron says. “What’s not to admire?” The fact that he pimps out his own kids, first off.

I don’t say anything, though. I don’t know if their father does that or if it’s August’s doing. I don’t know if the twins know, or if they do it, too. And I’m not about to spill that kind of information to anyone, not even August’s brother, without knowing. “Duke’s passed out cold,” Baron says after a few minutes. “Guess we’re alone.” “Yeah,” I say, moving to sit up. Baron’s hand tightens in my hair, though, and he sits up, so my head is in his lap. “Stay,” he says. “Maybe now that we have a minute alone together…” “What?” I ask, turning toward him even though I can’t see him in the dark. “You’re going to hit on me?” “No one would know,” he says, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “I’d know,” I say. “You’d know.” “Just a little suck?” he asks, and a second later, he pushes himself against my face. I don’t know when he whipped his dick out, but it’s hard and hot and so shocking that for a second, I don’t move. Then reality kicks in and I scramble away. “What the fuck, Baron.” “You make me so hard,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw you going down on August. And listening to you lick that sucker… I know you feel it, too. You’re attracted to me.”

“Look, Baron,” I say. “Sure, I’ll admit you’re hot. Maybe if I wasn’t into your brother, I’d be into you. But I am, and I’m not.” “Just for a minute,” he says, his voice almost pleading. He takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “I just want to feel your mouth. I won’t even make you swallow.” He pulls my hand down, wrapping my fingers around his hard length. It throbs in my hand, and I gulp at the sensation. “No way.” I yank my hand back, my heart hammering. “You shouldn’t even be asking. The only way that’s happening is if you rape my face like your brother did.” “I’m not going to force you to do anything,” he says. “If I did, you’d tell August, and he’d kick my ass. But if you want to do it, no one will tell him. It’ll be just between us. Our little secret. Like what I told you here tonight. I trusted you. Don’t you trust me?” “It’s a little hard when you’re literally telling me to keep a secret from the guy I—the guy I’m seeing.” He’s quiet for a second, and I think he’s going to ask what I was about to say, if I was going to let slip the L-word. “Just this once?” he asks instead.

“Fuck you, Baron,” I say, getting up and feeling my way through the dark. I don’t know where I’m going, but I want to be further from him and his dick. My pulse is still stuttering, and I don’t like the uncertain feeling in my belly one bit. “I could make it worth your while,” he says. “I could make you a Swan.” “What?” “Just because you didn’t let us take turns with you, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t still count. If you fucked multiple Swans… You’d be sexed in.” “You said three of you.” “I bet I could convince Duke,” he says. “Maybe if you just gave him head, too… It’s not even sex. But we could tell them it was.” “And I’d be a Swan.” “Betray a friend for a Swan…” he says, quoting the challenges I read. “And I faced my fear in the passage?” “Didn’t you?” “So that would be all the challenges. And the gauntlet—blowing you and Duke—would get me in.” “Just like you wanted.” I think about that for a second. I could be on the inside. I’d give Mr. D everything he wanted.

. But I’d lose August, and somewhere along the way, he became more important. “I’ll pass,” I say. “I try not to go around trading sexual favors to get what I want.” “Not even when it’s what you want, too?” he asks, his voice closer than I expected. “Touch me, and you’ll see exactly how much I want it,” I say, dropping the sucker stem on the floor so my fists are ready. “And you’ll be pissing out a hole in the side of your dick for the rest of your life.” “Jesus,” he says. “You’re fucked up, you know that?” “You know what’s more fucked up? You continued to harass me when I said I wasn’t interested. I’m interested in August. That’s it. Not you, not Duke, not any of your other Swans.” “You’ll change your mind when you’re the meat in a twin sandwich,” he says. “But I’ll let you have it your way. For now.” “Gee, thanks for not raping me. Don’t let me forget to give you a gold star on our way out.” “I’d appreciate that.” I stalk over to the side of the room and find a chair. I curl up in it to wait for morning. Even with the hoodie, it’s so fucking cold I’m shivering, though.

“Come on, don’t sleep over there,” Baron says. “I put my dick away. Come over here by us. It’s too cold to sleep alone.” “I’d rather not get raped in my sleep.” “That’s not our style,” he says. “Though, if you have a kink about that, I have a friend who could help you out.” “No, thanks.” “For fuck’s sake, just relax,” he says. “I was just seeing if you wanted it bad enough. Obviously, you don’t. You’re not committed enough to be a Swan.” “And you’re not going to try to molest me in my sleep?” “What fun is that?” he asks. “If you don’t fight back, it’s not worth taking.” “You’re really selling this.” “Come on,” he says. “It’s cold down here, and you stole my hoodie, and I don’t want to snuggle my brother’s blacked-out ass. You’re going to freeze over there by yourself. I promise I won’t fuck with you anymore. I get it. You’re August’s, and until he’s done with you, you’re off limits.” “I’m sleeping with my pocketknife in my hand,” I say. “I’ll cut you if you grope me.” “Deal,” he says. “Now get over here and let us keep you warm.”

I make my way back over and slide down next to Duke. Baron scoots over and wraps an arm around me. I have to admit, it’s nice to feel them on either side of me, keeping me warm like he promised, instead of holding onto my pride and freezing my ass off in a chair. Still, I don’t sleep until I feel him relax, his breathing going deeper as he falls into sleep first. I blink awake when the electricity comes back on, the light on the ceiling flickering a few times before remaining on. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust and see August standing over us. I scramble up, my heart stampeding in my chest. My hands fly up as if to defend myself from the accusation in his eyes. “It’s not—we were just sleeping.” “Did you fuck them?” he asks quietly. “No,” I say, my hands falling to my sides. I remember Duke’s threat from last night. No matter what happened, there’s not a damn thing I can do to convince him if they say otherwise. “Not for lack of trying,” Duke says, stretching his arms over his head. Baron sits and picks up his glasses and my knife from the floor before standing. “Didn’t touch her,” he says. “We tried everything you said to.” I snatch my knife back and turn on August. “What the fuck? Is this some kind of game to you?”

He gives me a cool look. “You wanted to be a Swan. I just wanted to know how bad you wanted it.” “You were testing me? You really think I’d fuck your brothers? That’s not even part of the initiation, is it? You just wanted a reason to dump me.” “Hey, don’t be upset about it,” he says with a lazy smile. “You passed.” “You were never going to let me into the Swans, were you? This is all just a hilarious game to you, seeing what you can make me do.

Even if I passed every challenge, you’d never let me in your little, preppy boys club.” “And you should thank me for that,” he says quietly, his dark eyes going serious. “Fuck you, August,” I say, stomping past him and up the stairs. “Oh, I will,” he says behind me. “The only question is, should I let you cool down first or rage fuck you right now?” “Try it and see what happens,” I snap. It feels good to step into the library and slam the door in his face. I’m tired and sore from sleeping on the floor, not to mention I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday but with the addition of a good amount of dirt. On top of that, I don’t even have my bag. But there’s only fifteen minutes until the morning meeting starts, which means I can’t go home without missing it. No matter what I said to Baron last night, I still fucking hate August half the time.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x you #henrycavill smut #august walker fanfic #henry cavill thirst #august walker #august walker imagines #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters

29 notes · View notes