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#in the kind of pointless hope of finding someone
dubiousfox · 1 year
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I wonder what the non religious boyfriend of the hallmark movie type boyfriend would be like, I think he’d be someone you find in a city, but like I wouldn’t want like a weird veg*n yoga guy or something , there was that one who I think was trying to recruit women into a cult or mlm or something who tried talking to me in 2019. ( kinda creepy actually)
If there was someone perfect for me I think he’d have long hair and be kind and be nonjudgemental. They’d also like music.
Of course there are supernatural romances , a werewolf would be ok(but no weird alpha stuff) but absolutely no vampires.
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hopecomesbacktolife · 8 months
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hey, just. friendly reminder that fanfiction is morally neutral.
yes, that includes smutty fics. yes, that includes self-insert fics. yes, that includes the fics you consider Problematic TM and the fics you don’t think are Smart or New. in fact that’s kind of why I’m writing this post.
I know we all love to talk about Themes And Narratives, but—and please listen to me very carefully here—you are not earning Good Place Points for only reading the kinds of fan fiction you feel are Smart or Only Focuses On The Important Things Like Themes.
fan fiction is morally neutral.
what I mean is this: no one is harming you, themselves, or anyone, by writing a fic about two characters having sex. (are you uncomfortable with the fact that I typed the word “sex”? hi, this post is about you. people have sex. and they write and talk about it. it’s seriously fine.)
no one is being harmed by self insert fics, by smutty fics, by anything not exclusively Smart TM about the fandom or analytically adding to it.
(and that’s not to say these two types of fics, that any type of fic, can’t have those elements— some of my favorite fic authors, my mutuals, my tumblr friends, write fic in these genres, and they also explore Themes and Emotions and analyze character traits and histories and write brilliant plots and incredible character arcs and yknow what, it’s amazing! it’s fantastic to examine what makes two characters react a certain way to x situation while also having them fuck nasty about it!) (and yes, I did just type ‘fuck nasty about it’ and I promise, that’s fine, too.)
what I’m saying, though, is that it doesn’t NEED that to, I dunno, somehow validate it into existing. it just Is. it just Exists. it doesn’t need an aspect you Approve Of TM in order to earn the right to be shared, to be written, to be published and commended and interacted with and read. it just. Is.
and I think a lot of especially younger, or newer, tumblr users especially get uncomfortable with that, and they unintentionally veer right (..ha) into self-censoring, puritanical behavior which is exactly what every person trying to ban books and generally kill art, wants. (and we’re not even going to examine in depth here, beyond mentioning it, the fact that policing, censuring, and banning art has historically and still today is being used to silence marginalized voices, so, I ask you to keep that in mind as you think on this, too, please.)
what I’m trying to say is this—if you personally don’t enjoy smut, don’t enjoy self insert fics, don’t enjoy a certain genre, that’s great, you do you! but, you must, must understand that this is not a moral stance. You are not objecting to a problematic practice, exploited workers, consent issues, labor crises… none of that applies, because no one in these stories is a real person. a story written about two Star Trek characters kissing on the bridge of the Enterprise is just that, a story. there is no actor for whose rights to fight, no wages to dispute fairness of, no ethical ramifications of scenes to discuss. these are Fictional People in Fictional Situations.
fan fiction is morally neutral.
and the moment you try to make yourself feel Better TM, More Correct TM, or—one of the ones I encounter the most—Smarter TM, by saying oh, I don’t read that kind of fic, I read the good kind, with thought in it—
you’re not only causing harm, you’re actively employing art censoring behavior. is that something that you want to do? I hope not. I certainly don’t.
next time you see a fic or a genre you don’t Approve Of TM, please remember the easiest way of exhibiting that— simply scrolling by or blocking a tag! If you’re on ao3, their system is incredible for niche content searches, and blocking a tag even here on tumblr will (most of the time) work.
I just., there’s so many better options out there for you than to… act like this. I believe you, we, all of us, can be better than this.
fanfiction. is. morally. neutral.
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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I hope this finds you well. Today is the 10th anniversary of my sister's death. She died unexpectedly when she was 20, and I was 13. My sister was so full of energy and compassion for others. She befriended probably well over a hundred people, and knew each of them by name. She taught me something that I think is demonstrated really well in Coraline (and reading it reminded me of her)--that courage is not fearlessness, but it's being afraid and standing up to that fear regardless. Off and on since she died (though more on than off in the past 5ish years), I've struggled with depression and a feeling of pointlessness in my life. The realization that someone that vibrant can suddenly vanish off the Earth has never left me. And I don't shine nearly as bright as she did. It feels like no matter what I do, I'll never leave a significant impact. I've had a lot of difficulty with college, and I'm on my second leave of absence since starting my undergraduate studies. I don't really have any career goals and have had trouble finding a career path that would be interesting and fulfilling enough to me to feel like I could stick with it long enough to make a living. But I've been doing everything I can to keep going and keep trying to get to a more stable place emotionally. To finally find my footing. Every night before I turn in I like to look at your posts on here. I find the words and advice you give to others very comforting. So, I'd first like to thank you for sharing your kindness and humor with everyone. And I'd also like to ask if you'd have any kind words or advice for me. Thanks for your time.
The main thing you should probably remember is that from the inside your sister didn't realise how bright and sparkling and energetic and compassionate she was either. We know ourselves from the inside, see only too well our pain and clumsiness, our depressions and our failures.
She was a light for you. You'd be surprised to find that you are a light for others. You shine. (Whoever you are reading this, I promise you this: you shine, and you will leave your own impact on the world.)
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eustasskidagenda · 6 months
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anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?
Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡
☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000
You can read the part two here & the part three here
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Kid
Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 
Seriously, Kid, ugh. 
So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.
Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 
Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 
So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 
"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.
Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 
He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"
He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.
"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.
He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 
"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 
And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.
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Zoro
Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?
He's trying his best.
Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 
He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 
Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 
"Now open your legs for me" 
Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 
He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 
Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 
If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.
"Such a brave girl"
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Law
As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 
He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 
"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 
As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 
He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 
And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.
"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 
He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.
Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 
"You're ready?" 
He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"
Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.
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Sanji
Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.
Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 
Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 
Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 
Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.
As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)
You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.
Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 
Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 
Sanji is so sweet please, help.
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earthtooz · 8 months
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x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+゚
in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?
warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!
a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)
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The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day. 
When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon. 
The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else. 
You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone. 
“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).
Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself. 
“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask. 
“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.” 
“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home. 
The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you. 
Can a home be a person?
He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.
“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.
You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?). 
Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.
“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.” 
He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.
“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes. 
“You didn’t even look properly.”
“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”
You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”
“None! None at all!”
You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms. 
His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you. 
“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask. 
His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster. 
Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow. 
“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?” 
“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”
“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.” 
He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt, 
Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.
But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?
When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down. 
Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims. 
You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture. 
What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers. 
The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.
“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”
“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”
The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.
“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.
“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks. 
“You’re at the right place.”
“But he told us no one would be home today!”
“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”
“Yeah, we are! And who are you?” 
“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”
“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”
“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”
“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”
“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”
“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone. 
“No trouble at all,” he reassures.
“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.
“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.
What an intriguing pair.
“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.” 
“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.
Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!” 
“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”
“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”
“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs. 
“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”
“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.
“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”
You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’. 
“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”
“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”
“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.
“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”
A… what? 
Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush. 
Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.
You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world. 
Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui. 
(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be. 
Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.
You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)
Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine. 
“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”
“Welcome home, Childe.” 
He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-” 
“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him. 
“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.
“Must you act a fool?”
“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”
“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”
“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.
“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know. 
“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”
“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.
“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”
“Childe-”
“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.
“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet. 
Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet. 
“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”
Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”
Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”
“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”
“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft. 
“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.” 
With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of. 
You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?
“Who are you really?”
“I’m yours-”
“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself. 
“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”
“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”
“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”
“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.
He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you? 
“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?” 
Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him. 
Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)
You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.
“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”
“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?” 
“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”
The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.  
You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.
“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob. 
“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen. 
“I’ll try.” 
“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”
“I know.” 
You shut the door behind you.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.
@fallenssun for u :>
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lightlycareless · 4 months
Note
Hiii, can i request a scenario on how naoya (when he has reached a point where he loves wife!reader from an arranged marriage) would react to one day not being greeted at all when he comes home? It is completely silent, no response as he calls for her and is getting a bit worried as he starts searching the rooms. But then he sees her laying on the couch, shivering and sweating from a cold that’s so intense she’s barely lucid and can’t even tell he’s there and talking to her
Heya!!
So... I took some liberties when writing this, kind of went a completely different route (the sick part, alongside worried Naoya still remains though), it just occurred to me when reading your ask, but I hope it's still of your liking 🥺!!!
anyways, here are the warnings: mentions of death, miscarriage, a very concerned and overprotective Naoya, a bit of fluff, and everyone wants to spoil you rotten lol.
And without further ado, happy reading!
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“Y/N, I’m home!”
Home.
A word he never really cared for, always considering it sappy, alongside the fondness that was usually assigned to it, which Naoya couldn’t think of as nothing but ridiculous, if not hilariously overrated.
For many years, Naoya thought that a home was simply the place that one was raised in and that’s about it. Nothing of the sentimentality others liked to apply to it, brag about it…
Until, of course, he finally came to understand what the word meant; why it was so special, and why it was important to have one.
A home wasn’t made by the people he knew as family, blood related, found in the place he was forced to be in since he was born, and probably die in—no; it’s the one that was made by the people of his choice, people he met through his course of life, connected with, and now, cherished.
Amongst them, you.
He considered himself lucky to have found the love of his life, a concept he considered so… foreign, impossible for someone like him, if not a stupidity of delusional people desiring more from life.
So was Naoya destined to think for the rest of his existence, condemned by his same family to live a life of loneliness, hatred, and die the same way.
But you’d come to show him otherwise, shockingly, and unexpectedly, and in such a way he couldn’t even put up a fight, completely surrendering to you and the wonderful feelings that being in love with you provided.
Now that he’s experienced them, he couldn’t find the reason as to why his family would ever reproach such beautiful thing as harshly as they did—or that he believed them in the first place…
Well, that’s not something that bothers him anymore; the Zen’in clan could continue on in their hard stuck ways for all he cared; he, on the other hand, plans to spend the rest of his days alongside the woman of his dreams, starting by today, finally back in your arms after days of being pulled into pointless missions after pointless missions, which he would not hear of for a few weeks—having earned a well-deserved break for his consistently good performance.
Naoya even prepared accordingly for the occasion, having bought gifts from all the places he’d been to, as well as ideated ways to distract you from the boring estate and his nagging relatives he knows you don’t enjoy being around with, only tolerating them because they were, well, your in-laws, his family—with exceptions of those you do get along, and for them, he’s grateful that they do.
Ah, he couldn’t wait to see you, your face, and the adorable way it brightens up whenever receiving him.
To tell you of his day while resting his head on your lap, with you passing your fingers through his hair, gently soothing his stresses away as you reassure him that he’s the best sorcerer out there, he’s just… unlucky to bump into lesser talented ones.
Get something to eat too, he’d like his favorite for a start, miso soup—and perhaps have you feed it to him? God, it’s been a while since both have done that, and it’s not because he doesn’t like doing it, or you for that matter, but rather, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by others, it has to be in the utmost privacy, after all! He isn’t to be vulnerable in front of his family!!
Oh, he needs wishes to see you—right now. And he’s absolutely sure you’re feeling the same way…
If so… why hadn’t you responded? Why hadn’t you come to receive him in the same manner you’ve always done?
Naoya knows that his schedule can be a bit… unpredictable, making it difficult for you to know exactly when he’ll come back home—but even then, it didn’t take you that long to meet him after announcing his return.
You’d always come to the entrance, no matter if it happened right that moment, or a bit later; you just… did.
But today… it seems that you opted to break the routine by taking far longer than you usually do.
He’d remain attentive to his surroundings, hoping to either hear your approaching footsteps or voice softly calling for him at a distance, yet as time went on, he was received with neither…. And Naoya only begins to grow more worried.
Your husband tries to not jump to the worst conclusion just yet, opting to think that you were perhaps simply caught up tending to the house, maybe even partaking in an unwanted conversation with one of his relatives and having trouble brushing them off—for no matter the times you’d reminded them that your husband was back, and you needed to be there to receive him, still acted as if it wasn’t that important.
Things that implied that even when running late, you were still ok.
Yet…
“Y/N!” Naoya calls once again, hoping for a change…
Silence.
It’s by this time that he decides it’s better to search for you than to stand around and wait for you to magically appear.
Naoya begins by going into the main wing, eyes scanning through the gardens, your usual place of leisure when not busy, where you’d calmly enjoy the diligently tended for flowers (the ones he had changed to your favorite as soon as he found out which ones they were) while snacking on something, or in the company of your loyal staff—if that were the case of your absence, he understood why you didn’t answer.
But he wouldn’t find you near any of the gardens, or anywhere in fact! A statement that weighed even heavier upon finding out that the staff was in the same predicament as him, for when he asked a nearby servant of your whereabouts, he was received with the following answer:
“We haven’t seen her” Naoya’s heart sinks.
“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” he breathes. “Where could my wife—did she—did she leave the estate?”
No. You… didn’t. Because that’s not what you told him you’d be doing a few hours ago, after letting you know he was on his way back home; if anything, you replied with how excited you were to see him again and that you’d be eagerly waiting for him!
So obviously, their words didn’t make sense. But if so… where were you?
Naoya now frantically searched for you through every wing, room, space, chamber, closet, just— anywhere, literally anywhere you could be while repeatedly calling out your name in hopes of getting a response, or even a glimpse of you; he doesn’t care what at that point, he’s happy with either!
Yet, the longer he went on without an answer, the bigger his sorrow became, to the point where his mind was machinating nothing but the worst-case scenarios, slowly losing his inhibitions as he repeatedly wondered Where were you? How come no one has seen you? Did he have to escalate this situation?
Just—Where are you, Y/N?!
Thankfully, there would be no need to pursue bigger solutions for he’d get his answer soon enough after entering the east wing, passing through the living quarters, and arriving to the laundry room, one of the last places he’d thought you’d be—rightfully guessing so, for you were there, apparently washing whatever garments you had pending, which you hadn’t been able to wash due to a variety of unknown reasons…
But far from feeling elated to have found you, Naoya felt as if whatever he had left of his heart was effectively broken, which felt short compared to the way he found you.
“Y/N!”
The sight that received him is one that will remain imprinted in the back of mind: you were laying on the floor, on your side, tightly clutching to your stomach as you breathed heavily, eyes tightly shut while groaning in what Naoya could only interpret as pain.
As if his worries weren’t through the roof at that point, this last conclusion is what urged Naoya to hastily make way to your side, swiftly kneeling to your level as he calls out for you once more.
“Y/N—Y/N” He’d breathe, firmly yet carefully placing his hands over you with intentions of picking you up, but his hold falters when his fingers briefly graze your skin, making him gasp in return. “Y/N you’re—you’re burning!”
This would be the only time you’d respond to him, barely able to move your head onto his direction, slightly opening your eyes to see him, a gaze that shows how much pain you were going through, barely able to understand what was going on, except for gently breathing the word that makes his heart squeeze out in pain.
“Na—Naoya…”
Any hesitation is effectively thrown out the window by that point, picking you up and rushing you towards their shared bedroom, all while barking orders to the nearby staff, demanding them to call for a doctor, as quickly as possible, unless they wanted to be jobless by the end of the day!
The staff reacts accordingly, and a few minutes later, the family doctor arrives to the estate, guided to your room and seeing that you were already being tended to, or at least that’s the idea he gets from the dampened towel on your forehead, undoubtedly in efforts of lowering your fever—which unfortunately, had been for nothing.
Well, he was there now, and he didn’t waste time either to get to work, quickly assessing your condition by the apparent symptoms, starting by your temperature, the color of your skin, and even the way you reacted to him while doing so, completely uncooperative—apparently, whatever put you in this state had evoked great instability from you, thus the doctor found it necessary to put you under sedatives.
But even when he was able to quickly gain control of the situation, the doctor still couldn’t arrive at a proper conclusion, less when the people around you had an even smaller idea of what struck you.
“I—I don’t know.” Naoya would respond, angrily, frustrated—and rightfully so. How come none of the servants had noticed your absence? Or worse, hadn’t seen anything that could hint as to what your sickness was about?! “Can’t you just—help her?!”
“That’s what I’m trying—I can’t help her if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” The doctor responded as calmly as he could, but even he had to admit that everyone’s seeming ignorance annoyed him as well. “But I can still say that this seems much more than just a simple… sickness.”
“What do you mean?” Naoya frowns, the doctor looks at the nearby servants, tasked to be on stand-by if needed.
“I’d like to discuss this in private.” He tells them.
The servants don’t wait for Naoya to repeat the order before they’re already out the room and away from their earshot; a request that while didn’t raise any concerns from Naoya —if anything, he was glad their pesky, useless presence, was finally away from you— the doctor’s face was quick to convince your husband that something far worse than what met the eye.
And this made Naoya’s nerves reach a new limit.
“I told you; I don’t know what happened—” Your husband is quick to defend, believing the doctor was to interrogate him once more, only to be interrupted.
“You don’t need to tell me for me to know what happened.” He interjects, Naoya’s eyes widen.
“I’m lost.” Naoya scowls. “Stop talking cryptically and get on with it!”
“I’ve seen these symptoms before, Naoya. And as I said, these are not from a simple sickness, an allergy or any of the matter” He takes a deep breath. “I heavily suspect she was intoxicated—and not accidentally, but rather, intentionally.”
“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns.  “I told you to stop talking in riddles, say what you—”
“Poisoned, Naoya. I believe your wife was poisoned.”
Naoya’s world comes to a screeching halt.
You…
You were poisoned.
According to the doctor, you—You were attacked, besieged, with malicious intents.
Taken advantage of in the one place you’d never be on edge, your home, the same one he had repeatedly reassured your father that you’d be safe in—the Zen’in estate, home to the prestigious Zen’in clan! There was no safer place in the whole world! There couldn’t!
No one— no one wouldn’t dare do such a thing here—they knew better! Naoya would force them to now better…
Yet, someone dared to commit this transgression against you.
And to make it all worse….
Almost got away with it.
Who would even think of doing such transgression against you?! You?!
You had no quarrels with anyone, and even when you did, you handled things in such an amicable way just so you’d live peacefully, free of nonsensical arguments—you had no space for them in your life!
And yet, this still happened, and right underneath his nose….
There’s no doubt that he’ll put an investigation into order to find the bastard responsible for your suffering, and once he does, he’ll make him regret his existence, to the point he’ll have him begging for mercy—and even then, it wouldn’t be enough for Naoya.
However, that is something that will have to wait until he knows you’re safe, healthier, which the doctor had slowly began to help you with by giving you something that will immediately trap the poison from being further absorbed by your blood—activated charcoal, so he remembers— as well as some other prescriptions for side effects he wishes to prevent.
“Your wife was very lucky to survive, have you waited a second more—”
“I wasn’t waiting.” Your husband immediately responds, offended by his wording. “I wasn’t aware of this until I returned.”
The doctor presses his lips together, taking notice that throughout his whole visit, Naoya has never left your side, nor freed your hands from his.
“And I’m not surprised.” He silently admits.
Naoya hates the notion the doctor was implying, that this was an inside job. But considering the odd behavior of the staff, their seeming ignorance of your location and your status… it all pointed to that same conclusion.
The boiling fury inside him grows bigger.
“How could this be?” Naoya seethes.
How could someone get this far, this close to you, and no one suspecting a thing?
Your husband might’ve reproached the way the doctor expressed himself, but there was an undeniable truth behind them; he truly was lucky to have gotten back home just when he did, for had he taken a second longer, just one, you could’ve die—
Outside of that, the second most important question regarding this whole situation was…where was your staff? Why, of all days, were they absent?
Naoya is confident that if Mariya, your closest confidant, had been around, this would’ve never happened in the first place; the moment she saw anything out of the ordinary, she would’ve pulled all the stops and acted accordingly.
Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, and this makes Naoya both highly suspicious, and furious.
Where was she?  Where are the rest? Why would they leave you in your most needed time? Did they plan this? Plot against you?! Where the hell could they possibly—
“They’re going to be away for the weekend to visit their families.”
He suddenly remembers; you told him so earlier that week through a text.
“Will you be ok?” Naoya also remembers asking; he didn’t feel happy knowing you’d be alone without your most trusted staff.
“It’s just a few days, Naoya. Besides, they deserve a break! I don’t want them to get tired of me, you know?”  you laugh. “But you better come back quickly, ok? Just because they’re not around doesn’t mean I like being alone…”
“I won’t take long. I promise.”
If only he’d kept his word…
Well, if that was to be the answer to their absence, then it wasn’t fair to hold any level of animosity towards them, a weight being lifted from his burdened shoulders upon realizing your staff could strill be trusted in.  
Now all that was left to worry about is finding the culprit… and the status of that too.
“Is she ok?” Naoya would ask.
“She is, I managed to—”
“No, I mean… that.” Naoya’s voice hints to a silent agreement between the two. “Is… that ok?”
The doctor quickly catches what he means, affirming so by a nod. His reassurance lifts an immeasurable weight from his heart, even greater than the alleged betrayal of Mariya and the rest. One less thing to worry about.
“What now, then?”
“Since the damage was limited, to say the least, it won’t be necessary to move her to a hospital, however—”
She’s still in danger. Naoya concludes. More so if the attack came from someone inside… And what makes him think that just because he’s back they’ll stop trying?
If anything, seeing how close they got, they could try once again!
The mere thought is enough to push him into taking what is perhaps the most radical decision he could’ve taken in this situation, something that might come to torment him in the future, but until then, he won’t care, not even a bit; not when he had your safety to worry about:
That is… Naoya fired everyone, effective immediately.
He took no heed if any of them had been serving the family for years, if they were close friends of his father, or if their livelihood would be affected— Naoya just wanted them out of his sight, the estate, and as soon as possible, less they wanted to receive more of his anger, before continuing with the rest of his plan.
Due to the gravity of said situation, Naoya knew he had to contact your family; he also knew that you would’ve refuted the idea as soon as he mentioned it to you, not wanting to worry them if you’ve truly been attacked, but he couldn’t do this to your father; not when he was amongst the few people in the world he knew had your wellbeing as utmost priority— as well as holding a great amount of respect and appreciation for him, specifically for the way he welcomed him into your family.
Eiichi, your father, had to admit that getting a call from the Zen’in estate that didn’t come from you surely surprised him beyond any comprehension, and yet, that would be nothing compared to the shock he’d get upon knowing the motive behind said call; Naoya swore he almost heard your father passing out, or at least, in the process of.
“Poisoned?!”  Eiichi gasped, tightly clutching onto the phone—he might’ve as well passed out and dived into a nightmare! “Is she ok?! Where is she right now?”
“At the estate, with me—the doctor didn’t think it necessary for her to be hospitalized since he was able to stop the poison from spreading any further, but she still needs rest.”
“And the baby?”  the referenced secret between Naoya and the doctor; your pregnancy.
“Fine.” He breathes, swallowing. “The doctor didn’t tell me of any damage done to the baby…  but I’m—I’m still taking her to the doctor, just—just to be sure.”
“How could this happen?” Eiichi laments, heart breaking not only for you, but for Naoya as well. Your father knew all too well what it was to lose the love of his life, a pain that he would never desire on anyone, not even his own enemies…
One that he could slowly begin to hear in Naoya’s voice; oh, he could only imagine the pain he was going through, or what waited for him if he had lost not only you, but his child too.
But, well, the worst is over… at least for now.
“Someone from the staff did it.” Naoya declares, Eiichi’s heart sinks even further. “But I’ve taken care of it, I’ve fired everyone.”
And your father, contrary to Naoya’s relatives, did not question him. If anything, he seconded his decision, because had he been in your husband’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.
“Was her staff involved?” Your father asks, feeling a slight… anger with the idea that the ones you greatly cherished could’ve plotted against you.
“No, they were not; in fact, they were out of the estate when all this went down.” Naoya responds. “But I know that if they had been here, this would’ve never happened in the first place.”
“Bring her here, with me.” Eiichi immediately suggested, Naoya blinks, startled by the idea, if not against it.
“Father—"
“We can take care of her while she’s recuperating, take her to the doctor too. I’ll make sure that she has everything she needs. And not to misjudge your staff, or lack of, but the people here would never hurt her—they’ve known her since she was a child! There won’t be another safer place for her to be than here, Naoya. At least…  until she’s better.”
Previously, Naoya would’ve questioned the veracity of his words, done all he could to prove you were much better with him, but after this occurrence… he had to agree.
As much as it hurt him to know you’d be away from him, especially when you were pregnant… he knew this was the right decision to make. He couldn’t expose you to another similar situation—not even if he got a completely new staff… or if you didn’t want to leave.
So, Naoya accepts Eiichi’s suggestion, alongside buying him a ticket for the earliest available flight to Kyoto; a few hours later, your father would arrive to the estate, rushing to your side, keeping you company while tending to your every need as Naoya prepared everything for your departure.
When you eventually regained consciousness, you were (although a bit surprised) overwhelmingly elated to see your father visiting you, for it had been so long since you’d seen him, probably around the time you announced your pregnancy!
However, that excitement would soon diminish when Naoya told you why he was there… alongside the cryptic explanation of your “sickness.”
“It was an allergy.” Naoya would say, not wanting to stress you by the fact that you were intentionally poisoned, although that excuse did little to stop you from doing so. “Rare, but it can happen, especially with pregnant women.”
“An allergy…? But I didn’t…” you frown.
“It happened to your mother, once.” Eiichi followed Naoya’s lead. He hated lying to you, but… he concurred that keeping you safe, both mentally and physically, was worth doing so. “It’s nothing but hormonal changes, so don’t worry much about it.”
“I guess…” you frown, pressing your lips. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have to leave.”
“We need to check what caused your allergy” Naoya responds. “It might be something about the food, the flowers, or even the wood; I rather you be safe than to go through that scare again.”
“But is… all this really necessary?” Naoya gives you a tight smile and a nod. “Naoya, I—"
“It’s not all bad, Y/N.” Naoya says.
“Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your papa? It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with my adorable pumpkin!” Eiichi laments.
“Dad!” you gasp, flustered by his words. “Don’t—don’t say that in front of Naoya…”
“What? It’s true! And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I learned I’m going to be a grandfather!”
“Stop it!” your face becomes redder. “You’re embarrassing me!”
Naoya chuckles; it’s not like he’s seen you in… worse situations. Or better?
“But… I guess a visit is overdue.” You eventually concede, Naoya and your father sigh out of relief. “Though what about Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi?”
“They’ll go with you, if you want.” Naoya says; he doubts they’ll say no, especially after knowing of the whole fiasco that occurred when away, might even offer themselves before he suggests the idea.
“If I didn’t know any better, sounds like you want me gone.” You jest, Naoya frowns. “It’s a joke, of course…”
“There’s nothing more I would like than you staying here, but until we figure out what caused that reaction from you, I’d rather not risk it.”
“It’s only temporary, Y/N. Besides, look—I brought you gifts!” Eiichi says, taking out the bag he brought from home seemingly out of nowhere, filled with things he knew you’d love, such as sweets, your favorite mochi’s of course, alongside some plushies that would always brighten your day when you were a child. “And there’s much more back home…”
Naoya can’t help but feel relieved you had your father for support, but at the same time, a bit jealous and, well, threatened. Not for bad reasons, of course, it was simply because how the hell did he not think of bringing you gifts first?!
“Dad… you’re embarrassing me in front of Naoya.”
“Ah, that’s a parent’s bane, isn’t it? To always embarrass their children—you’ll see what I mean when you both have your baby.”
Perhaps the main reason why you ended up agreeing to leave was because your pregnancy did not seem affected by your supposed allergy; had it been you would’ve refused to leave your husband’s side!
… Well, you still would’ve refused either way, but perhaps a bit more. You hate the idea of being away from the father of your child for too long, after all.
“I don’t think so—Naoya and I are going to be the cool parents, you’ll see.”
“That’s what your mom and I thought, and look at me now, can’t even say anything without you telling me I’m embarrassing you!” Eiichi says, you chuckle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom was cool! You were always the funny one!”
Naoya smiles.
Now he knows for sure that there’s no safer place for you to be in than with your family, even if that were to be on the other side of the country…
After Naoya prepared everything for your departure, the three eventually made way to the exit, where you and your father would bid their last goodbyes.
“Won’t you accompany me?” you ask, a slight pout on your face, he smiles in hopes to cheer you up, but really, he felt miserable.
“I want to, but I can’t.” He explains. “I have to deal with this as fast as possible if you’re to come back quickly.”
“… Will you visit me over there, at least?” you frown.
“Yes. As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go see you.” Naoya promises.
It had all been too soon, just a few hours ago he arrived at the estate, and now, you’re leaving. Naoya laments that he couldn’t spend a day with you before your departure… but he guesses this to be a rightful sacrifice for your well-being.
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping away from my wife and baby for too long.”
At those words, Eiichi couldn’t help but frown out of sorrow.
It wasn’t fair that neither of you had been able to enjoy this wonderful occasion as you should.
He still remembers the excitement in your voice, the glint in your eye, and the beaming smile on your lips when announcing your pregnancy—alongside the nerves that came with it, of course, which Eiichi eased by reminding you and Naoya that their enthusiasm was nothing but indicative they were already on their way of becoming the loving and supportive parents their baby needed.
But as excited as both were, Eiichi had to cruelly put a stop to their celebrations, especially after Naobito was made aware of this, who wished to proceed by announcing the news to the whole community.
“I have to disagree, Naobito.” Eiichi would be the first to reject the idea, much to everyone’s surprise—yours, specifically.
“And why is that?” He’d ask back, not understanding why the father of the expecting mother, of all people, would be the one to reject so.
“It’s best if Y/N keeps her pregnancy a secret, at least… until it’s undeniably noticeable.”
“But… why, dad?” you asked. This was a moment of absolute joy, to be treated as such! So why did he intend to keep it a secret? Was he… disappointed?
No. Never. He was nothing but happy to see you happy and become a grandfather himself for the first time in his life!
But as a man of his years, he’s learned to be cautious of how said blessings are to be celebrated, as well as seen his fair share of happiness turn sour… things that Eiichi would rather take upon him than allow them to ever befall you.
“Because there’s people out there that might try to hurt you—or the baby.”  He’d explain. “Naobito cannot not deny this, but if anyone hears that you’re pregnant with the Zen’in heir’s baby, those that want to hurt the Zen’in clan, or our family, will see this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”
“I’d never allow such thing, rest assured, there’s no safer place than—” Naoya quickly interjects, wanting to reassure your father, but Eiichi was set on his warnings.
“I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t see it myself.” Eiichi reminds him, Naoya swallows. “We live in a highly competitive world due to the nature of our families; I’ve lost my wife because of this! And I’d be damned to allow it to happen again to my daughter.”
He hated to remind you of the harsh truth; hated to see how your face would sadden, the excitement for your first child, his first grandchild, quickly disappearing…
“Why would someone do that?” you murmur, frowning.
“They wouldn’t dare—I’ll make sure of it.” Naoya hisses.
Eiichi remained silent, sad for you and your husband. Because even if you’ve experienced first-hand what it is to lose someone through these matters, both have yet to fully understand the extremes those supposedly loyal to them can go to if properly incited. Especially for someone who had so much to lose, just as the elite members of prestigious Zen’in clan.
Even then, your father would not allow such pain to reach you, not the same way it almost did to him and your mother, so, he insisted you keep these news secret from the world—and if you must, only if you must, reveal it to your most faithful ones; the rest could learn when your stomach was too big to deny.
If you do so, keep your baby hidden from the world, safe from those that harbor nothing but pain and sorrow… all will be fine. Eiichi promises so.
Or so, that’s what everyone hoped would’ve happened, because if there’s one thing to be learned from this incident, is that no matter how cautious you were, word of your pregnancy still managed to land in the wrong ears, and now, were actively against it.
The question no longer pertained as to how, but rather, who; who was the author of this terrible act?
The notion that someone of Naoya’s relatives, indirectly informed through Naobito’s… drunken rambles, soon crosses the minds of your father and husband. If so, it would make sense as to why they’d use an innocent staff member to do the deed, keep their hands clean of the whole situation, instead of going to bigger extremes.
It’s the most probable of the theories, but they could not annul the following: jealousy from the servants.
Naoya considered that statement to be the most delusional one your father could’ve gathered, but he’d be wise to remember how others perceive him—or more like what he represented. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that others would desire what he had, or him, in some cases. And naturally, you’re an obstacle to that goal, your baby even more so…
It wasn’t fair, but it was your reality.
Nonetheless, Eiichi and Naoya will still do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
“It’s just for a few days, pumpkin.” Your father would say upon seeing the sadness in your face, which remained even when reassured that Naoya would be with you as soon as possible. “Besides, you’re going to see your brother and sister too—they’ve missed you very much, you know? They’ve been wanting to spoil you and their future niece, or nephew!”
You smile, it’s good that even when in the storm, your family is still able to exude happiness. You could only imagine how enthusiastic they’d be when the baby was finally here.
“I know… I missed them too.” You admit, before looking over to Naoya one last time. “Well… I hope that whatever is keeping you here is quickly dealt with.”
“You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Naoya promises, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—before you know it, you’ll be back at the estate, with me.”
That’s a promise he unfortunately, doesn’t know if will become true inside the promised timeline, but will do anything in his power so it does.
Either way, it’s safe to say that Naoya did manage to keep one part of his promise—and that would be the one where he reassured you wouldn’t even notice his absence, done through sending you endless amounts of gifts, every day, effectively filling your room to the brim with all things he’d knew you’d like, and some for baby too: from clothes for you, to cute onesies he’d like his baby to wear when she was finally here.
“You still think the baby is going to be a girl?” you’d ask through one of the many videocalls he’d make—one daily, at the very least. “Wait a minute… you better not have spoiled me!”
“I just know” He reiterates with shrug; you roll your eyes. “If not, then I’ll have lots of things to return.”
“Well, if it’s worth anything, I also feel like our baby is going to be a girl.” You smile, warming up Naoya’s heart. “I can’t wait to meet her—I just know she’s going to have your eyes!”
“Or yours, I hope.” He longs, you blush. “Have you been eating well, my love?”
“Yes; and no allergies yet.” You explain, Naoya feels relieved—at least the problem didn’t follow you there. “Maybe I was just unlucky that day, Naoya… Are you sure I can’t return to the estate yet?”
“Not until I’m sure you’re going to be safe here.” Naoya responds, and while his words are meant to be comforting, you can’t shake off the sense that something worse happened; that something far bigger than a simple allergy had struck you, specially with the way your staff and family would act around you, going as far as denying you of any information pertaining to the Zen’in.
But… if your husband had a reason to not say anything now, then the best you could do is trust him. The truth will come out eventually, you suppose. So instead you could focus on other pressing matters.
“Well, at least don’t send me too many gifts.” You continued. “While I appreciate them, between you and my father, I don’t think my house has enough room to store all the things you’ve both given me.”
“Who’s given you more things? Me or your dad?” Naoya nonchalantly asks, you gasp.
“Naoya! That’s not the—take it seriously! Control yourself with the gifts, ok?” you say, he chuckles, but ends up agreeing; at least until the topic has quieted down, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to let your father win the upper hand like that one day ever again. “Or at least save them to when I’m back at the estate… which I hope is soon.”
“Almost there.” Naoya says. “Just a few more things, and we’ll be together once again.”
… even if the answer was to be the same, you still needed to ask.
“Is… everything ok?”
Not precisely, not when he has yet to find out the one responsible for all this…
But he’s gotten a lead, an idea of where to start, of who to hunt—which he knows he’ll find in record time thanks to the fury he harbors, further motivating him to do this as quickly and precisely as possible just so he’d have you back home, with him.
“Nothing you should worry about.” He reiterates. “Just keep focusing on your health, the baby, and not doing anything strenuous.”
“I’m just pregnant, Naoya… nothing extraordinary. I still want to help around., you know?”
“I know, and you’ll be able to do that and more in due time, but for now, keep safe, for me, ok? And our little mochi.”
“When will I see you again?” you ask again, hoping that perhaps this time around, the answer will be different.
“Soon.” He promises. “Soon, my love.”
Once he deals with the bastard that hurt you.
Naoya will give them nothing but a glimpse of the sorrow and pain they’d put you through, his fury—make their life a living hell, make them regret the foolish idea that they could ever get away from it; and still, he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with his revenge.
He’d want more, he’d want everyone to know that his family are not ones to mess around with.
He’d burn the whole world to set the message across if necessary—and that would only be the bare minimum for you, the love of his life, and now, his baby…
His home.
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ame-perduexx · 8 months
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Astrology Observations🦋
*as always* take what you want, leave what you want
*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*
🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.
🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.
🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.
🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.
🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.
🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.
🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party
🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.
🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.
🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.
🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.
🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.
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abyssruler · 7 months
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to you, who loved me most
scaramouche x gn!reader
four snippets, four drabbles, four realistic takes on popular tropes with the person scaramouche was before he became the wanderer. or — soulmate au, time travel, reincarnation, and isekai with the sixth harbinger.
character death (reader), scaramouche being a horrible person, implied dark themes
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SOULMATE AU - soulmates share each others’ pain
For as long as you could remember, your heart has always felt hollow. Empty. Your mother once told you that your soulmate must have a heart disease of some kind—but no, this isn’t pain. You know what pain is.
Pain is the electricity crackling through your veins, sharp pinpricks like a thousand needles trying to protrude from your skin. It is staying up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of the ache in your joints as if someone is pulling you apart only to glue you back together, like one of those porcelain dolls you always see being sold at the market.
You know what pain is, and it is not the apathy you feel when you discover who your soulmate is. It is not the stark-white heat that overcomes you as your soulmate’s hand pierces your empty, hollow chest.
Pain is the ache you finally feel in your nonexistent heart, a moment before you close your eyes.
And you’ve never known comfort—you’ve never known a lot of things—but you think comfort is the arms that hold you as you choke on your own blood. Comfort is the cold chest against your cheek as you breathe your last, dying breath.
Comfort the voice in your ear, a whispered plea, an apology, one last wish for you to stay.
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TIME TRAVEL/TIME LOOP
It’s pointless and foolish and he’s a monster, and you know you should stop coming back, stop greeting him with that same smile you always give whenever you first stumble upon him, dazed and confused and so, so kind and innocent after awakening from his slumber.
You should run from those deceptively angelic looking eyes, but you can’t. No matter how many times you’ve died and come back—the amount of times you’ve died by his hands—you can’t stop coming back and hoping that this time, maybe it’ll all turn out different. That this time, he’ll turn out different.
And perhaps this time, he’ll finally love you back the way he did during your first loop.
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REINCARNATION
It was your fault. You shouldn’t have been so kind to him. So warm and bright and innocent, giving him all you have without expecting anything in return. All he knows is to take and take and take until not even you had anything left to give. And still, he continues to take what he perceives to be rightfully his until you’re carved hollow from the inside out.
But you shouldn’t blame him, it was your fault in the first place. You should have known better than to treat strangers like him so kindly.
He has bound your soul to his. Til death do us part, but Scaramouche will not let even death take you away from him. So even if you decide to take your own life, you can never truly escape his grasp.
In your next life and the ones after that, he will always find you, and you will always love him back until you see the monster hidden beneath the veneer of a pleasant smile.
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ISEKAI
You’re here. You’re really, truly here in Teyvat.
The most logical thing to do would be to seek out the Traveler, a fellow outlander who would keep you safe until they reach the end of their journey, but you’ve always been reckless and stupid. So you seek out the most disliked Harbinger and join the Fatui under his ranks.
You thought it would be like the fanfictions you secretly read, where he’d notice you and fall in love with you and you’d live happily ever after. But reality is often different from what you expect.
He is harsh, but not the fun, amusing kind of harsh you once watched and read. He is living and breathing and right in front of you, spitting the most horrid words anyone has ever said to you. You once fantasized the scenario of him being mean to you, back when he was fictional and dreamy and not an inch away from taking your useless, pathetic life.
And as you stood in place, blinking back tears that would send him over the edge should he see it, you wonder why you ever thought you’d enjoy it.
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Where I’m From
Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]
3.6k | Jake Seresin could handle lots of things. He was the only naval aviator of his time to have a confirmed kill - two, actually. He kept forgetting about that second one. It was newly under his belt, and, considering the circumstances surrounding it, he hadn’t felt too inclined to brag about it. Still, the point remained. Jake could carry the weight of taking a life, of saving a life, and of putting his life in harms way. 
What he could not handle was the weeping girl in front of him, brushing away tears on their first date.
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Genre: Fluff, slight angst
CW: swearing, kissing, mentions of past relationships (neglect)
Author’s Note: Is Jake slightly ooc? Yes. I just wholeheartedly believe this man would be a gentleman on a date. Also, soft!Jake >>>>>>> || cross-posted on Ao3
Part Two
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“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.
Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.
So, when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.
And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”
Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are yours, darlin’.”
The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”
“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.
The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.
“I’m sorry-”
“You need to stop apologizing.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”
An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”
There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.
Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.
You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”
“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”
“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.
You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.
“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.
“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”
Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.
Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.
“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”
Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.
“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”
“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”
“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”
Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”
“Oh, a cowboy?”
“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”
“So, I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.
“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”
Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.
He pulled into a spot, and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.
“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.
“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.
“Sersin. Party of two,” he tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.
Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.
“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”
You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”
Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”
“So is mine.”
“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”
Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”
You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”
“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”
“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they call you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”
He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.
“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“You remember my last name?”
“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”
He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”
“Yup.”
“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”
“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”
“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”
“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”
Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit, and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down, but the power went out.
“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”
“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”
He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”
“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”
“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”
The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works its way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.
“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”
“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”
And so, you swap plates with him taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”
He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.
“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”
You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”
You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.
“I’m sorry.”
“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”
“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”
With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”
There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”
He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would.”
“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-” Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.
“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”
Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.
He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.
“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”
More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.
“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.
“What?”
“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”
With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”
“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”
===
Bonus:
Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife, so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.
“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.
“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”
“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”
He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”
“I was waiting for you to ask that.”
Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long-term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.
“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.
“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”
You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”
Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.
“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”
He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”
You thought he’d never ask.
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sapphire-writes · 1 year
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Playing with Fire (part 2)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen
summary: Your adventure in the capital continues as you grow closer to more than one Targaryen prince.
warnings: some sensual themes, drinking
word count: 3.4k
A/N: In absolute awe of the love for part 1!! Hope you all enjoy part 2 as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💚
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“I shall not have my daughter late for such a charming event,” your mother says, moving to fix a broach from its tilted position on your neckline. You purse your lips. Your time in the Red Keep was to be full of different social events, all catered to winning Prince Aegon’s affection. 
“I suppose I do not need to attend,” you tell her, batting your lashes, “the Queen did specify it was not mandatory.”
“We came to the capital to find you a husband,” your mother said, giving you a stern look, “and after last night’s escapades you need to remind the members of court what a charming young lady you are.”
You groan at your mother’s words but are silenced by her fierce motherly glare. You press your lips together in a thin line. She smiles at your surrender.
“A walk in the gardens is quite the romantic opportunity, Y/N,” she says, brushing your shoulders. Your mother moves to caress your cheeks.
“Beautiful,” she whispers, and you can’t help but smile at her kind words and the loving look on her face.
As you make your way to the gardens, your mother is an overflowing fountain of advice. 
“Make sure to take his arm,” she informs, “and smile often, but not too much, we do not wish for him to think you are fatuous.”
You tilt your head to the side, frowning at your mother.
“What?” she says, ushering you forward through the castle doors. 
“You think me fatuous?”
“I do not,” your mother argues, “hence why I wish you do not act like it.”
The gardens of the Red Keep are a beautiful sight. Rows upon rows of flowers from all over the seven kingdoms make a colorful sanctuary, with tables and benches scattered throughout the many paths that twist and creep throughout them. 
The air is perfumed by the sweet scents emitted by all the flora. You have never traveled to Highgarden, but if it is anything as beautiful as the gardens in front of you now, you can scarcely imagine it. 
As you enter the gardens you are greeted by several of the lords and ladies from the previous night. Everyone is dressed in gowns of expensive Myrish lace, colors bright as though the plumes of birds. 
“Does Prince Aegon enjoy bright colors?” you ask and your mother shrugs, clearly surprised as well by the fashionable efforts. 
Cassandra Baratheon spots you, a smile overtaking her. You raise your eyebrows at her as she approaches, only to realize too late she was smiling at someone behind you. She brushes by you, with little decency, causing you to stumble. 
“My prince!” she says, skirts dancing around her as she approaches Prince Aegon, who has entered just behind you. He smiles at Cassandra before his gaze falls on you. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as his eyes light up.
I remember you, they seem to say. 
Cassandra loops her arm through his, attaching herself to his side. Aegon’s eyes widen at her boldness and he allows himself a once over of the Baratheon lady. She is breathtakingly beautiful, everything a future queen should hope to look like.  
“I would be honored to join you this morning, my prince,” she says, leading Aegon toward the gardens and away from other ladies who seem to pout as they see Aegon’s arm has been claimed.
“That would be lovely, my lady,” he says to her, but as they pass his eyes stay on you. You look away first, unable to hold his piercing gaze. You swear you hear him chuckle, before the pair disappear within the greenery, trailed by several goldcloaks. 
“Perhaps when Cassandra returns,” your mother says hopefully, watching where the pair headed off to. You shoot your mother an exasperated look.
“It is rather pointless,” you tell her, “Cassandra is quite determined the prince is her match.”
Your mother pats your arm, attempting to comfort you. You roll your eyes at her efforts. 
“We shall see,” your mother says, ever confident in her daughter. You stay next to her as other ladies begin to promenade. 
“I have seen one near the tulips,” a voice says softly, causing you to turn. Prince Aemond stands behind you, a small smile on his face. His hands are crossed behind his back, violet eye sparkling. 
“Good morrow my prince,” you tell him brightly, crossing your ankles in a brief curtsey. 
“Or perhaps near the golden roses?” he continues as if not hearing you. Your brow furrows in confusion.
“I do not follow, my prince,” you tell him, following his gaze into the gardens until it landed on a table full of refreshments.  
“I only assumed you may need another hiding space,” he says. Cheeky bastard. You scoff in surprise, but a smile forms on your face at his jest. Blush blooms on your cheeks and he chuckles. 
“I apologize, my lady,” he begins, “I could not help it.”
You smooth your gown, as a laugh escapes you. Prince Aemond was jesting with you. 
“I suppose I deserve it, for my foolishness,” you tell him, more laughter bubbling from your lips. 
“May I?” Aemond said, offering his arm to you. You smiled at the kindness, linking his arm in yours. 
“I promise not to lose my slipper this time,” you tell him, earning a chuckle from the one-eyed prince. 
You began your promenade through the gardens. You glance behind you and your mother gives you an encouraging smile, trailing behind a modest distance from you and the prince as a chaperone. 
As you continue your walk with Aemond, you notice sideways glances from ladies as they pass. You turn, watching them whisper and giggle before hurrying along down the path. 
Aemond notices your confusion and clears his throat. 
“I suppose it is a strange sight, to see such a beautiful lady on my arm,” he says softly, flashing a half smile. You can tell he is trying to ease the awkwardness of the encounter. Your eyebrows cinch together, not understanding what he is implying. 
“Why would that be strange, my prince?” you ask.
“My condition frightens most women of court.”
You look at Aemond, and note the way his mouth sits in a tight line, blush blooming on the tops of his cheekbones. Your face softens. 
“It does not frighten me,” you tell him. Aemond meets your gaze, expecting to see some hint of displeasure. He finds none, only fierce honesty in your expression. You stop your walk as the path opens to a large courtyard. Lords and ladies are deposited around, talking and drinking leisurely in the warmth of the midday sun. 
Aemond picks a goblet up, filling it with wine. He hands it to you before pouring one for himself. 
“You are very peculiar, Lady Y/N,” he says, sizing you up once more, “I do hope you do not take offense to me saying that.”
You shrug nonchalantly, taking a sip from your cup. The Arbor red burns a path down your throat. 
“Not at all,” you assure him, “I do not believe there is shame in the odd or unusual.” 
Aemond cocks his head, before nodding in agreement, taking a sip from his cup. You watch as a dragonfly buzzes by, opaque wings catching in the sunlight. 
“Fascinating,” you murmur and Aemond follows your eyes.
“You should speak with my sister Helaena,” he tells you, “she is fascinated with the creatures that reside in this garden.”
“I did speak with her,” you tell him, recalling your late night discussion with the princess, “she is a very interesting woman, your sister.”
Aemond feels a sense of sharp pride at your words. Helaena was the sibling he was always closest to. He spent most of his time defending her from odd looks and jests from ladies of court, it was a refreshing change to hear you speak so kindly of her. 
“She was telling me about her recent readings of insects outside of the seven kingdoms,” you continued, craning your neck to see where the dragonfly had flown off to. You make a noise of contentment before taking another sip of your wine. You feel your body beginning to warm from the liquid. 
“I quite enjoyed the time I spent with her,” you continued, glancing at Aemond, “and with you , of course my prince.”
Aemond chews at the inside of his lip as he takes in your words. He suddenly wants to sweep you away from the gardens, keep you out of sight until Aegon chooses a wife. Aemond cannot help but remember why you are here. You have come for his brother’s hand, not his. A rush of possessiveness rolls through him at the thought. Aemond places his cup on a table closeby, before leaning closer to you, speaking low into your ear.
“You enjoy that?” he asks, the look in his eye changing, “spending time with me?”
Gooseflesh prickles on your skin at the feeling of his breath on your ear. 
“Of course, my prince,” you say, and you can feel your nerves, twisting and twirling in your stomach. He is so close to you, leaning over your frame, and you find yourself stumbling backward. 
Your foot catches a loose stone and you feel your ankle twist. As you throw out your arm to steady yourself your goblet flings from your grasp and into the chest of Aegon Targaryen. You hear the shriek of Cassandra as drops of red liquid rain down on her. You watch, eyes wide, as the red liquid seeps into the fabric of his shirt. As you feel your cheeks heat up, you meet his gaze. 
You’re not sure what you expect. Anger, fury perhaps. But as you look up, Aegon’s smile is wolfish, his eyes hungry. You feel your heart drop into your stomach as his eyes meet yours. It is the same look he gave you in the corridor the previous night, as though you are a feast to be devoured.  
“When I suggested we have a drink,” Aegon begins, the grin never leaving his face, “this was not what I had intended.”
“Seven hells!” Cassandra grumbles, wiping the wine from her arm. The expression on her face is murderous. Aegon barely pays her any mind. 
“Your grace, I do apologize,” you say, flustered by his words, by your mistake. You reach for a handkerchief, for something, and Aemond holds one out to you. 
“Thank you,” you say, looking up at his chiseled face. His mouth sits in a taut line, and he does not meet your gaze, only giving you a slight nod. 
Your mother saw the scene, unfortunately for you. Eyes wide, she hurries over to you, skirts a whirlwind behind her. 
“My prince, you must excuse my daughter,” she says nervously, snatching the handkerchief from your hands as you bring it towards Aegon’s chest. You look at him, a wild look in your eyes. His face is the picture of amusement, as he takes the handkerchief from your mother. 
“Lady Y/N is quite ungraceful,” Cassandra sneers, attempting to re-engage Aegon. His attention is lost, and Cassandra can sense it, eyes flickering from the prince to you. 
“No harm done,” Aegon says, dabbing the red liquid that pools on his shirt, “it has happened to me on more than one occasion.”
Your mother gives a courteous laugh, but you can tell she is embarrassed by your actions. 
“May I introduce my daughter, Lady Y/N?” she says, smiling cautiously. Aegon looks from your mother to you.
“Yes,” he says, eyes flickering again to your mouth, “we have been introduced.”
Your mother’s brows lift towards her hairline. You bite your lip. When were you supposed to tell her? When you arrived in your chambers she was deep in sleep, and as you sat to break your fast the conversation of the previous night had quickly shifted to one of the new day. 
You could picture your mother’s face if you had told her about your rendez-vous with Prince Aegon. It would probably look an awful lot like the expression she wore now; of confusion and anxiety. 
“You have?” she asks, looking at you for help.
You swallow, thinking of a delicate way to phrase it.
“Yes,” you tell her, “you see I happened to run into Prince Aegon on my way to bed last night.”
You can’t help but notice the way Aemond’s shoulders tense at your words. Your face flushes. You want to continue speaking, tell him that nothing happened. He probably thinks Aegon did something unseemly to you. You imagined the red haired lady he was with, his lips on her neck. Suddenly you imagined yourself in her place, your fingers tangled in Aegon’s hair, his hands all over you. Surely that was what Prince Aemond was thinking. 
You opened your mouth to speak, to clarify what had happened, when Prince Aegon interrupted you. 
“Might you escort me to my chambers, Lady Y/N?” Aegon asks, “if it is alright with your mother of course. I should like to change.”
Your mother nods encouragingly. You raise your brows at her. Perhaps she is hoping Aegon does have his way with you. A babe in your belly would be a reason for Aegon to marry you. You shake off the thought.
Cassandra is furious. 
“Are you sure you would not like me to escort you, your grace?” she asks, attempting to mask her anger with a polite smile, “surely Lady Y/N should take a moment to compose herself.”
Aegon gives her a gracious smile.
“How right you are Lady Cassandra,” he tells her, “ever more the reason you should join me, Lady Y/N, let us get you out of the sun.”
Aegon winks at you, so quickly you’re sure no one else had seen it. 
“Of course my prince,” you tell him, as he holds his arm to you. You turn to Prince Aemond as you take Aegon’s arm.
“Thank you for the walk,” you tell him earnestly. Aemond’s expression warms. 
“It is you I should thank, my lady,” he tells you, bowing slightly. You smile at him, as Aegon ushers you toward the castle.
“Quite a dramatic way to get my attention,” he murmurs, a sly grin on his face. 
“I did not mean-”
“I jest, my lady,” he says, grinning, “though I had hoped to find you. It was getting rather boring with Lady Cassandra.”
You laugh as Aegon leads you to the door of his chambers. He opens the door and you walk inside with him. The room is spacious, and full of light. Aegon closes the door behind you.
“I shall wait outside,” you tell him, as he is already unbuttoning his shirt.
“Nonsense, I’ll be quick,” he says, looking up from where his fingers work. Aegon takes in your expression, your wide eyes at the sight of his bare chest. He makes a face at you.
“Relax,” he says, laughing slightly, “I’m not whipping my cock out.”
You gasp like a fish on dry land. 
“I-I’didn’t say-” you begin, turning beet red. He grins wolfishly.
“You didn’t have to,” he says, fully shirtless. He tosses the soiled shirt onto a chair. You can’t help but admire the muscles of his back as he turns towards the wardrobe to pick another shirt. You clasp your fingers in front of you nervously, before moving to hold them behind your back.
You have never been alone with a man before, let alone a prince. Let alone Prince Aegon. You shift from one foot to the other. Aegon picks out a shirt, putting his arms through the sleeves. He glances over at you and smiles at your nervous expression. 
“My lady?” he asks, beginning to approach you. 
“Mhmm?” you say, not trusting your voice. Aegon tilts his head as he comes to stand in front of you. His eyes flicker down, then back to yours. 
“Might I ask your assistance?” he asks, motioning to his unbuttoned shirt. Your lips part, drawing his attention to them. 
“Of course my prince,” you tell him, reaching forward. You will your hands not to shake as you begin to button his shirt, fingers brushing against the skin of his chest and stomach. 
“Did you enjoy the gardens?” he asks, studying your face as you continue your task.
“Very much, my prince,” you tell him, trying to focus on the buttons instead of his closeness. Instead of the feeling of his breath on your face. His skin under your touch. 
“I see you are acquainted with my brother,” Aegon says, causing you to miss a buttonhole, nail scraping against his chest. You feel your cheeks flood with color as you quickly loop the button in the whole.
“Yes, Prince Aemond was very kind to me last night,” you told him, glancing briefly in his violet eyes that watched you suspiciously. 
“Kind?” Aegon asked, tilting his head back as you got to the collar of his shirt. You nod. 
Aegon reaches up as you secure the last button, fingers wrapping around your wrists. He holds you in place as your eyes widen. Aegon’s mouth turns into a lazy smile that sends warmth pooling in your belly.
“Thank you, my lady,” he murmurs, “it is much appreciated.” 
“Of course,” you whisper. 
Aegon releases your wrists, wetting his lips. 
“There is a feast tonight,” he tells you, eyes flickering about your face. 
“Yes, my prince,” you tell him. 
“I require your presence there,” he commands, “I shall escort you later on, since you evaded me the previous night.”
Your lips part and Aegon reaches up toward your face, grasping your chin between his fingers.
“You’re very beautiful, Lady Y/N,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your lips, then back to your eyes. 
“You flatter me, my prince,” you somehow manage to get the words out, squeaking the final word. Aegon smiles at that, teeth biting into his lower lip. Fire coils in your lower stomach, your eyes cannot seem to stay on his. Eyelashes fluttering they keep dropping to his lips, so soft and inviting. You wish to bite it as he does, to sink your teeth into the pink flesh. 
“It is in my nature,” he tells you, giving your chin a squeeze before setting your free. You suck air into your lungs, not realizing you had been holding your breath. 
“Come, my lady,” Aegon says, leading you towards the door, “I shall have my guard escort you back to your chambers, to prepare for the festivities.” 
“Yes my prince,” you tell him, reaching to open the door. Aegon places a hand on it before you can open it. You turn back to him. 
“Fuck,” he growls, before placing his hands on your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. His lips are soft and warm, just as you imagined they would be. Fire courses through you as he deepens the kiss before he pulls away, gaging your reaction. 
“What are you thinking?” he asks, not moving his hands. 
I am hoping you’ll kiss me again.
The words do not come. 
“My lady?” he questions, concern evident on his face. 
“I was-” you begin, head feeling airy and empty, “I enjoyed it.”
Aegon smiles, before pressing his lips to yours once more, a softer, sweeter kiss this time.
“Now you may leave,” he tells you when he pulls away, leaving you dazed, “I shall see you tonight, my lady.”
He opens the door for you, relishing in your dreamlike expression. You stand outside his chambers for several moments, his guard waiting for you to begin walking. 
You walk towards your chambers in a haze, before deciding to stop and get some air at a veranda you pass. As you lean across the balcony letting the air of early evening cool your burning skin, a dragonfly lands next to you. Your heart cinches in your chest, confusion flooding your mind. 
Aemond. Aegon. Aemond. Aegon.
taglist: @afro-hispwriter, @aemondsb1tch, @twobluejeans, @s0urmarvel, @fan-goddess, @the-phantom-of-arda, @cicaspair418, @loxbbg, @arraxthatsonjah, @missbeeentertainment, @maximizedrhythms, @xdeath-soulx , @wrendermeuseless, @hiatuswhore, @sho1407, @minttea07, @arkainea, @elissanatok, @alitaar, @bellaisasleep, @itsleniiilosers, @cassiopeia-black-brenda, @bogwaterswamp, @applepie02, @youngestxhearts, @aurabluestar, @watersquirtpewpewboomm, @w3ird11
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strawberrysnoopy · 3 months
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ACT ONE: The Photo-shoot, Part Two
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prologue, part one
warnings: basic stuff (infidelity, mentions of sex and masturbation, ada slander, yadda, yadda), i also don't know how an er really works so..., brief mention of disordered eating habits but not an eating disorder (if that makes sense), foreshadowing (in the same chapter), almost sex but not yet sugar, blah blah, blah. I also can't write fight scenes so whatever. Also I promise that this will be the last dinner party esque scene in a while lol.
tags: @heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat thank you anons for your submissions and helping motivate me to continue this series!
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Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little. "How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form. "Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. Leon wouldn't really consider himself a lonely man. He had friends to bide his time with when Ada was gone doing a mission. Your husband was one of those people, and of course, by instinct: the invite of friendship was gracefully extended to you. However, Leon would really hate to admit that you're the better in maintaining the friendship than your husband ever was. You were the one to start inviting him over for dinner when Ada was gone because you knew he'd probably put some half-assed attempt in feeding himself everyday. Not that he didn't know how to cook (he was quite an excellent one, in fact), he felt that it was kind of pointless if you ate when there wasn't someone to share the meal with.
Tonight was one of those nights for him. You texted him earlier this afternoon, offering him dinner and the company of friends. He could practically hear your soft voice from over the phone: the kindness you radiated with your mere presence lighting him up like the Fourth of July. Of course he had to accept your invitation, it's not like he had plans: other than sitting in his boxers, drinking and stare at the ceiling while he laid in bed. You were rather quick to trot over to the door when Leon came knocking. There was a stupid grin plastered on your face and with the way your eyes looked at him with a bright, glimmering shine glazing over them. "Leon!" You squeal, capturing him into your arms and swaying him back and forth. A low and rumbly chuckle escaped his throat while he hugged you, arms finding their home around your waist. Your husband's off somewhere in the house, if you had to guess accurately: by the fridge, contemplating how plastered he was planning on getting tonight in the shortest amount of time. Perhaps he'd go a little slower tonight, but you don't have much hope in him with the fact Leon's there. It might encourage him. Who knows.
"I appreciate you having me over tonight. So nice of you to make sure I'm never lonely." Among other things. But he's not squealing too soon. Your eyes longingly rake over his body, and god, the gall of this man to not appear in your life sooner and sweep you off of your feet. Noticing he's wearing something different, he smiles at you and pinches your cheek, muttering the same nickname he always called you.
Silly Girl.
God, fuck this man to the highest degree, you curse to yourself. And his attire?! Oh fuck him. You tried not to notice his attire. It was that of a somewhat dorky husband. Perhaps that’s what attracted Ada, perhaps that’s what made her hate him so much. Regardless, you loved the somewhat silly outfit on him of a gray sweatshirt he’s had since police academy, the lip of his boxers visible from above his jeans if he stretched his arms up (maybe bless your eyes and existence with the token appearance of his happy trail), and some semi-baggy jeans with his beat up shoes. He was a handsome man, and he seemed to know it. Yet, he still had enough a heart to be humble. Dinner was served quickly, everyone taking their seats at the table. Leon had praised you on your cooking skills with words (and a hand patting your thigh under the table. Hot.) The conversation was light-hearted, cheerful, but most of all, refreshing. The table had even gotten to the topic of firsts: obviously dancing over the first time any one of you had sex but you had a sneaky feeling your tipsy turning drunk husband would bring it up. "So, who was your first kiss, Leon?" You asked, taking a bite of the braised rib on your plate (that you worked your ass off on, might we add) while your head slowly turned over to meet his gaze. "Some girl in like...4th grade. She kissed me first. I don't even remember her name." You laugh, jokingly raising your hand to signal you were the same. "Anyone after that?" Leon shakes his head. "Just some college girls and Ada." The table falls silent, the sound of forks scraping against the plate and quiet chewing beginning to get on your nerves due to the fact nobody was speaking. "And after that?" Your husband chimes in and you realize you would rather just have the sounds of chewing and forks scraping than having him say something stupid. Leon shakes his head, assuming whatever your husband was trying to imply was a joke, but you knew better and you had a feeling he knew better as well. "Oh, come on, Leon. You're telling me you haven't at least kissed another woman after marrying Ada." He fights back an eye roll. You laugh. "Can't say I have." "No? Seriously. That's what makes relationship so healthy. Just a once in a while business trip where you're drowning in pussy." Your mouth dried. Blink and you'd miss it, Leon's cool facade cracks and shatters, a scowl overtaking his face. "Well. I'll have to think about that sometime." You look at him, noticing that he was threatening to say something. Something ballsy. Something that might, quite literally, have your soaked panties flung across the room. The look in your eyes was daring him to say it. The fucked part of you wanted to hear it.
"What if someone fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" And just like that, you're on fire. Of course you found it hot. Because his best friend, who is not supposed to have any romantic feelings towards his friend's wife mind you, was actually standing up for you. "The fuck you just say to me?" Leon gets up from his seat with a death glare that could kill any man but oh lord, you? You're fucking living for this. "You heard me. What if I fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" Your eyes widen, head snapping over to Leon. Oh, he wanted to fuck you? He wanted to fuck you? Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit! Within minutes, your husband tackles Leon and tries punching him but if you think he's winning this fight, you are sorely mistaken. Leon was a government agent and in seconds, he's on top of Ezra beating the lights out of him. After the shock (let's be honest here, giddiness) passes, you pull Leon off of your husband, mumbling to him to calm down. You were surprised when he had apologized and asked to take your husband to the emergency room.
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Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little.
"How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form.
"Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. "I'm sorry." He murmured to you, referencing the least important elephant in the room. "About him...cheating on you. If it's any consolation, I'm sure he's not—" You interrupt him.
"He is. It's nothing I don't already know." He nodded, finally taking your hand in his own and running his calloused thumb across the soft and vastly explored top half of your hand. Your husband cheated on you. Something you had dreaded for so long when you first met him but now the fact was spoken into the air just felt like...relief. Like you didn't have to play the guessing game anymore. You weren't acting in a role of a dumb, clueless housewife bobbling around with her mouth and legs open if your husband so chose to have mercy on your needs and finally have mediocre sex with you. "And I also want to apologize for what I said. About fucking you. I wouldn't actually do that to you, yeah? I was just pissed he said that stuff to you." You both know it's bullshit. You both know he wants to fuck. You both know he sleeps with Ada wishing it was you. You pat his arm. "It's okay." A nurse arrives into the waiting room, clipboard totted on her side and a much too relieved poker face gracing her features. "Your husband is alright. We admitted him for a few days to monitor his status, make sure nothing odd pops up. Just needed a few stitches and painkillers so he should be fine." The both of you took that as a cue to take off for the night. Although Leon had been wondering if you'd even visit him in the hospital after the whole cheating confession thing, probably not. Getting up from your seats, Leon takes you by the hand and walks you out to your car. The night air was a soothing chill against your skin, the warmth of Leon's palm bursting through the layers of cold your body temperature had managed to build up. "If you ever decide to....y'know...divorce him. You can always stay with us for a bit while you get back on your feet." His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you like you had lost something very special to you. Which you had: your husband. But that was long ago and the admission was a long time coming: the band-aid had been ripped off of your skin and the pain had subsided. "Thank you." You whisper. He nods. His eyes flicker down to your lips, hand moving from the side of your cold arm to your cheek. His thumb caresses your bottom lip and moving dangerously close to the inside of your mouth. In his eyes, they're zoned out, almost like he's reminiscing of Ada. But you're not Ada. You're you. And that's what has him writhing with lustful agony. But the problem was that there was still a woman he was betrothed to and as much as he hated it, he had a duty to be loyal to her. He hadn't ever broken that loyalty to her and he's not starting anytime soon. With a sigh, he pulls away from you. "I'll see you around, yeah?" He doesn't even let you respond before he awkwardly pats your arm and leaves you alone in the hospital parking lot, leaving you wanting for more. "...Bye." You mumble, getting into your own car to drive home. But on the ride home, Leon's left you wondering. Wondering what would happen if he had just thrown caution to the wind and kissed you. But he was right. You were both married. The most tragic thing of all being that it's not to each-other.
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enhaeven · 3 months
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— polaroid love | yang jungwon
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pairing: jungwon x reader
genre: fluff, romance, high school!au
word count: 1.5k
summary: wherein a series of polaroid pictures may be helping you realize your feelings towards jungwon
warnings: none really, just two mild swear words XD
a/n: i pulled memories from years ago for this but yeah it's been a while lol happy 20th to my baby wonie 🥺, wishing you the best for this milestone of your life 💕
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— masterlist & wips — faq & navigation
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"take pictures of me"
a high pitched voice alerts you at once, and it's unfortunately too cute for you to ignore each time he asks you that same phrase when you have a polaroid camera in your hands.
at any chance he gets.
you don’t mind it now, already getting used to the times when Jungwon would just come up to you for basically anything. in the past, you used to question why he acts like this towards you when he doesn’t to others. you’ve grown fond of him, his habits rather but that doesn’t mean that you don’t whisk him away each time he’s near you, be it during lunch or after school clubs.
he’s not hard to love really, with the way he cares for someone and how thoughtful he is in everything that he does, it’s no wonder that anyone would immediately fall in love with him easily.
not you, or yet you think. you’re not really sure at this point though your heart does this weird thing whenever he says your name these days. what’s strange is that you’ve known this as a sign since you’ve fallen in love before but you couldn’t figure out why you’ve been resisting it.
it’s definitely a you problem, not his but you don’t know what to do.
.
lunch is the only time where you can do this. developing the pictures from your polaroid which mostly consist of Jungwon posing cutely in each of them. honestly, you’ve been questioning why cause really could’ve deleted them but here you are instead, just because he’s been asking about it.
he was adamant about needing to have his own copies since he loves posting on socials.
and you, for whatever reason eventually complied, even choosing to do it now and here at school of all times.
looking at them one by one right now, you reminisce the times Jungwon made your heart race as you pick each one of the polaroid pictures. your heart races even more which freaks you out again even though you’re alone in this empty classroom so no one’s here to see you like this.
you’re dumb. really dumb for doing your best to not fall in love with him because it’s pointless. no one could blame you really with the amount of immature guys your age but Yang Jungwon’s different.
it’s funny how you’ve only realized it now, though you can’t exactly pinpoint when it started since you may have been feeling something for him without realizing it. this is not even complicated unlike your previous ones and you’re surprisingly loving the vibe of it, the feeling of falling in love.
you must’ve been staring at them intently that you didn’t realize someone was entering the room and sneaking up on you.
“do you finally love me?” the very familiar voice asks behind you and you let out a surprise shriek, getting up from the chair to give some distance from him.
“what the hell!” you’re not really annoyed but more so mortified that he, out of all people caught you at this kind of vulnerable moment. 
“answer the question y/n~” he starts as he leans a bit, tilting his head with a playful smile which you find very adorable.
and now you’re having a hard time suppressing the urge to smile back, hoping your face is not obvious but you already couldn’t look Jungwon in the eye.
"uh, what makes you say that?" you ask, trying to subdue your nerves by talking as calmly as you can as you return your gaze to him, to those very beautiful eyes of his.
eyes that caught yours in the first place.
"you have that look in your eyes..." he tells you with a teasing lilt in his voice, eyes shifting to his polaroid pictures laying on the desk.
what look dammit. is he really gonna make you confess right now—
"it's okay to admit it y/n…” he adds before looking back at you, eyes searching for something, probably a confirmation so you shoot him a glare in return. it’s a facade really to hide your embarrassment but it washed away quickly when you heard him say "i love you back anyways" quietly.
you were so stunned at his sudden declaration that you didn’t even realize he ran away before you could confront him about it.
so silly, you chuckle at his antics.
you’re debating if you should follow him or not but before you can decide, the bell rang so you had to hurry out to not miss the next period.
.
after your last class of the day, you immediately ditch your friends to look for Jungwon. they didn’t mind, not even asking you why though they probably have an inkling already after seeing you being restless at class earlier.
you have to catch Jungwon before he goes home, cause you might not be able to do this after today. fortunately, to your relief he’s still here, sitting by the benches outside with two of his close friends.
approaching their table, you dropped his polaroid pictures without a word which surprised everyone at the table, but not much for Jungwon.
he never thought you’d approach him first because it’s always been the other way around but he should’ve seen it coming when he ran away from you earlier. he wonders why you’re here other than the pictures, it couldn’t be just that, right?
“oh let’s look at these” his younger friend Riki suddenly picks one of the photos, looking at them with an amused smile.
for the first time, Jungwon feels shy because those pictures are specifically for you. he posed cutely in them for the sole purpose of wooing you but Riki’s like a younger brother to him since he only has an older sister so he doesn’t really mind. he met the latter from the dance club, easily befriending him when they both got closer due to being chosen to represent their school in the local dance competition against other schools.
“you look cute in them wonie!” his other friend, Sunoo adds, examining the rest of the pictures with adoration. he’s from a year above you both while Riki’s from a year below. but because Jungwon’s done summer school for some courses that made him pretty much more advanced than his peers, he’s sharing a few classes with Sunoo this school year.
“jungwon, can i talk to you for a minute?” 
it’s already embarrassing to approach them this way when he’s clearly in some serious talks with his friends but you had no choice. it’s now or never.
“sure!” he turns to his friends excitedly, about to say goodbye but Sunoo smiles brightly at you both, returning the pictures on the table before grabbing the complaining Riki with him as they both leave to let you guys talk. 
you smile gratefully in return, waving at them as they leave. you wouldn’t want those two to witness whatever more embarrassing things you might say to their friend. those two are already known in your school with Sunoo having quite a lot of friends and Riki’s status due to his dance achievements but you’ve never really talked to them before.
facing Jungwon now, you watch the challenging look in his eyes. but you didn’t miss the knowing smile, hoping it’s not because he already knew what all this is going to be.
“can you be my valentine?” you say as fast as you can to fight your increasing heartbeat. the nerves did go away when his smile turned into shock.
your question did surprise Jungwon a lot. he thought that you were here to talk about his quick confession earlier but he didn’t think that you’d ask him this. 
he was actually planning a grandiose proposal to ask you even knowing that you could reject him. 
but somehow Jungwon’s assured that you won’t. he’s indeed been annoying and clinging to you since the beginning of last year to get your attention but you’ve been softening to him lately so he’s confident and he was right.
“can you be mine too?”
“i asked first”
“well, i was going to ask you” he countered. “that’s why i was talking to Sunoo-hyung and Riki” he added.
“oh” you pause, nodding in understanding as a genuine smile appears on your face but your eyes hold that mischievous glint that Jungwon immediately recognized.
“but now you ruined it” he continues, now sulking a bit with his lips jutting out which made you laugh a little.
"how could i ruin it when it's for me?" you deadpan, your tone and smile teasing him further, causing his face to slowly become red.
"you asked me first and i said yes first so mine's more valid than yours," he says indignantly, huffing as he looks away from you which you find cute.
“okay wonie, let’s see how grand this surprise of yours is” you relent, stepping closer to him before planting a quick peck on his cheeks, making Jungwon’s eyes widen.
the boy’s totally flustered, which erupts another hearty giggle from you. he never thought you’d call him that let alone kiss him so he’s having a mix of delight and content of you reciprocating his feelings.
“i love you won” you add softly, looking sincerely into his eyes before walking away, leaving him still speechless at where he’s standing.
maybe it’s too early to tell him that but with how long you’ve been repressing this feeling, you’re pretty sure this time that it's certainly more than just a crush.
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e/n: idk how i wrote this really cuz this is so out of my comfort zone since it's the first time that i've written an only fluff fic so i hope it's okay 😅. btw i based OC's inner turmoil on pola XD
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hotpinkstars · 3 months
Text
-> shenhes reaction to different love languages
synopsis -> how shenhe reacts to different love languages. pretty self-explanatory.
w/c -> 1.5k
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-> quality time
as we all know, shenhe is certainly not one who knows love. so when you first introduced the topic of quality time to her, she just kind of cocked her head and looked at you. she was someone who quite literally needed assistance to keep her homicidal nature at bay, and you were someone who could barely harm a flee. why ever would you want quality time with her, she thought? although the both of you are a couple, she won’t ever understand all of that stuff that normal couples do. 
it takes a minute or two (more like a couple futile attempts) to get her to open up to spending a lot of time like that with you, but once you get her to maybe get a bite to eat at a cuisine in the harbor, she warms up to the idea a little bit more. she still doesn’t understand why couples like to do this- she was put under the impression of relationships being kissing, hugging, and sleeping together. 
soon enough, she’ll be the one to request to do some of these things that you showed her. depending on how much she wants it, you might have to take the hint, or she’ll just blandly tell you directly. 
“i would like to grab a meal in liyue harbor like we did last week.”
“shenhe, it’s two in the morning… but as soon as the sun rises, sure!” 
well, she’s sure got the spirit!!
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-> words of affirmation
the first time you even said something as simple as “i love you so, so much,” this woman kind of just froze and asked you to repeat that. 
she doesn’t get it. she probably asked you why people say that at first, and then she got it. she already kind of knew, she just wanted to be sure she heard you right. and that she did. a few minutes after you said that to her she could feel a nice warmth in her chest and a little grin coming onto her face. 
even things such as “i love the way you did your braid today!” make her feel so grateful that she was able to date someone such as you. sometimes cloud retainer wonders what's got her in such a good mood these past few months, considering how sour she sometimes can be.
another one she tries to reciprocate once she gets used to it. (spoiler alert: she does it for all of these lol.) she’ll sometimes tell you that you look particularly nice that day. in her eyes, you look glamorous every day, but she saves that for when you two go to a fancy restaurant and you’re all dressed nice.
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-> acts of service
acts of service for shenhe seem pointless in her eyes at first. she has learned to take care of herself, why should she need someone else to do the things she does for own good for her? she can make her own bed, she can put toothpaste on her own toothbrush, and she can cook her own meals. so, when she first saw that the bed was all made, the pillows were fluffed, and there was already toothpaste on her toothbrush from when you were last in there, she seemed a little.. shocked? it was very hard to tell what she felt, but she felt, once again, a warmth in her chest. she came out of the room to ask you about it, and saw you making breakfast. 
“well, i just decided maybe you’d like it! if you don’t, i can stop…” 
“well… i.. really like this.. act of kindness. but i do not know if i understand it yet.”
you laughed and motioned for her to sit down as you served two plates and decided to chat her up a little bit about what you were going to do that day. she ate her food with a small smile, and engaged in the conversation. 
sometimes, she’d come home to find little samples of some foods she likes with a little note on the side of the plate saying something like “i made something i picked up on you liking. i hope you enjoy it!” 
this was one she decided to take little steps to show. she’d do basics that she didn’t even realize she was doing before, like tidying up the room a little bit or putting the dishes away or folding the blankets. all she knew is that it made you happy to see the house so nice and clean, so she continued to do it whenever she was available to. 
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-> receiving gifts
talk about something she isn’t all that familiar with.
the first time you put a little trinket in her hands- for instance, a keychain, she just looked at you curiously. 
“what is this?”
“oh, nothing really. i just thought it would be cute to dangle from your vision. see, it even matches your hair color!”
she handed it back to you and told you to hook it somewhere on her vision. she looked at it with a mirror and a kamera, smiling gratefully, even though she didn’t think it was all that necessary. she got used to your constant gift giving though, and, once again, didn’t understand what the occasion was, she still cherished them silently. the first time you gifted her something bigger, like maybe a pair of heels, she thought she missed something.
“y/n, what is this for? is there some occasion i am not aware of? it’s not your birthday, or my birthday, or our anniversary… is it maybe a holiday?”
“nope!” you replied. “just saw them on sale in liyue. i bought them because they looked like they matched your style!” 
she took another good look at these and put them in the closet. you saw her wear them with her combat outfit a few days later, indirectly trying to show them off to you.
she’ll try and get you gifts too, but she’ll go to the traveler or cloud retainer for help. the traveler has met you a few times, so he/she probably knows what you like just based off of how much shenhe talks about you, and just by your bubbly personality. 
paimons always the one bringing the gift idea up to shenhe. if she likes the idea, then the gift will be given to you as early as possible. 
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-> physical touch
if she’s gonna be starved of any of this, it’s gonna be physical touch. she’s gotten a few pats on the head or shoulder by cloud retainer or her fellow adepti companions whenever she’s done something well, but that’s the extent of it. she has never been tackled to the bed and cuddled before, she’s never really been hugged, and she certainly hasn’t slept in the same bed in a super touchy manner with anyone else before you. 
the first time you rolled over to her side of the bed and latched onto her back, sliding your arms around her waist and propping your head on her shoulder, she was understandably stunned. at first, she tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let her. so, she was stiffer than a board the rest of the night to be careful not to roll on top of you, and immediately brought it up to you in the morning. you told her it’s just what you do, and was always what you did since you were a child- you felt the need to constantly hug something in your sleep, and you decided to hug her. she just slightly nodded, still not understanding, and walked away for a little while to process what happened the night before. 
she’ll eventually be much more open to the idea of allowing you to rest on top of her or hugging her, still being fairly stiff. but the first time you asked her to rest her head on your chest, she declined, saying she was “too strong and could potentially cut off your airways if she wasn’t careful.” you brushed that thought off and slightly begged her until she sighed and very slowly let her weight fall onto your body. she genuinely liked the way this made her feel, and continued to do it much more often- when she was sad, upset, stressed, or just felt the need to lay on your chest for a few minutes.
when it came to hand-holding or hugging, she wasn’t opposed. she just made a strict rule that there is no hugging or cuddling in public. you agreed, and only did those things when you both knew that there was privacy. the last thing the both of you wanted was to scare each other off. that would be crushing to both ends.
 she was much more open to cuddling and hand holding and all that comes with it later into your relationship- you realized she was a woman who needed an indescribable amount of patience, and that you were willing to give.
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eustasskidagenda · 5 months
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Hi! This is my first time requesting, could I ask for some headcanons of Zoro, Law and Kidd with reader who was selective mutism?
Hi, sure thing! I'm sorry for the delay, but here we go. I hope the outcome will meet your expectations, thank you for requesting. ☆
☆Zoro, Law & Kid with a s/o who has selective mutism
CW : g/n reader, Kid has a filthy mouth 
WC : 1,2k
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Zoro 
It would be quite a challenge for Zoro, to be honest. 
Zoro is not really talkative. So at first, he wouldn't notice that you're facing selective mutism. He would assume that you are a stoic and reserved person, just like him. However, he would come to the realization that it's deeper. When he realizes it's selective mutism...
… He would feel a bit confused and helpless, especially if you're not comfortable with him. Is he to blame for it? He wants to make you feel safe. So first thing first, he would ask for Chopper's help, or maybe Robin. 
Zoro is maybe uncomfortable with emotions, but he's loyal and always there to support his loved ones. This man is so protective and serious. With someone like him, the silence is always enjoyable, not weird or unusual. It would give you a feeling of safety. 
As a pragmatic person, Zoro would also try to find solutions, such as communicating through gestures, maybe. Whenever you talk to him, his heart would melt. He feels privileged to hear the sound of your voice. It's both beautiful and soothing.
Zoro will quietly be supportive when you're with others. As long as you don't seem in need of his help, he would just shut up and let you do your thing. If you want to communicate with others, give it a shot. If you want to stay silent, that's fine. However, if you appear stressed or uncomfortable, Zoro would be there in a second to reassure you. 
"You don't have to force yourself. It's fine. You gave your all. 
I think Zoro would consider your struggles with communication like he considers his fighting style: you need to train. If you want to open up, he would love to help you. He would assist you in slowly but surely pushing past your limits. "Maybe it'll take time, but I know you can do it, I trust you."
Zoro values so much effort and practice that he would be really moved by your progress. Even though he's not really expressive, you can tell how proud he is. The soft expression in his eyes is all you need to see.
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Law
Law has a quiet demeanor. He doesn't speak much about himself, his plans, or basically, anything that is stuck in his mind. However, he understands that there is a distinction between being reserved and selective mutism. He would quickly realize that you're not just shy.
Although he's not a psychologist, he would still try to understand why you have selective mutism. First, because he's a doctor and also because he's curious about that kind of thing. If you're not willing to speak up about this, he won't force you to do so. He's well aware that selective mutism can sometimes hide something traumatic, and well, Law knows a lot about trauma. He doesn't want to remind you of dark memories.
"Don't worry, y/n-ya. I won't put pressure on you."
If you cannot communicate with him, Law would try to find a way to communicate with you. Maybe through writing, sign language, or even drawing, if you want. He's good at finding solutions and he knows a few things about selective mutism. 
If you can't communicate with others, Law will try to keep you in a safe environment. He knows it's pointless to confront you with people and he doesn't want to make you feel more anxious. But he would try to introduce you to trustworthy people, such as Bepo, Sashi, or Penguin. He would ask his friends to be nice and patient with you. If someone tries to be mean to you, Law would be really mad and probably room, shambles their body for a few hours as a punishment.
He respects your silence. Law would never force you to communicate or push you out of your comfort zone. He would be there to support you during both good and bad times. Every time you talk to someone you're not really comfortable with, Law would have a proud grin on his face. 
"See, you did it! You're incredible, y/n-ya."
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Kid
Well, don't worry, he can talk for the both of you.
He's a man of action, and honestly, he struggles to understand what's going on and why you're so quiet. Sure, he's used to calm people, and Killer is one of them. But talking to everyone is not a problem for Killer, he's just introverted. Your selective mutism would be a challenge for our dear angry tulip.
Kid is loud and both possessive and protective. However, he hates assisting others. He thinks you're strong enough to take care of yourself. He would never be the one to babysit you. Just watch from a distance to see if you're doing okay, especially in stressful situations. If someone dares to mock you, we all know what's going to happen. Kid is easily pissed off: he hates being mocked, or when someone makes fun of his loved one.
"Come here y/n, I'll deal with those fucking assholes." Before grabbing you by the wrist and bringing you closer to him. So now you're stuck against his chest, but is it really a problem? 
Honestly, if you're struggling to talk to Kid, he would consider the whole thing as a challenge. He's a marginalized person, his crew is full of marginalized people, so your selective mutism is not really a problem for him. His pride is the main issue: if you doesn't feel safe in his presence, it's a problem for his ego. 
"What's the matter anyway, y/n, why can't you speak?" 
In your presence, Kid would try (keyword: try) to talk more quietly. He doesn't want to freak you out with his rude behavior. Just imagine the loud and rude Eustass Kid softening in your presence. How sweet. I'm also pretty sure he would love to praise you with your favorite flower/animal made of metal. Imagine a beautiful flower blooming or a fluffy puppy dancing with joy while you speak. 
Don't say that the big, scary Eustass Kid can craft such lovely things to anyone. 
Once you're comfortable with him… Kid would just grin cockily. Damn. He would be extremely proud. Like, genuinely proud. Proud of you, because you did it. And also pleased with himself, because he won this challenge. He would feel his heart melting and pounding. "Y/N can talk to me, see, I'm the best!" (Yelling to absolutely everyone, obviously)
Kid Pirates are a big family. Kid may not be fully aware of what to do with someone who is facing selective mutism, but his crew will take care of you. They won't put pressure on you, not because they're scared of Kid, but because everyone in the crew has their own problems and it's alright. 
They would all make an effort to ensure your safety and be patient with you. Just like their captain, if you end up in a stressful situation, they would help you as best they can. 
I love them so much, help.
451 notes · View notes
latenightsimping · 2 years
Text
Nothing Else Matters
Summary: Being Jason Carver’s little sister can be be hell. Especially when you fall in love with someone he despises. Jason has a plan to break you up, and it almost works. Almost. (Part 2 is here!)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word count: 6,618
Warnings: V ANGSTY, angst to fluff, heavy themes of bullying, themes of child abuse and neglect, Jason Carver is an absolute shitheel in this, mentions of suicide, argument heavy in one part, reader is Jason Carver’s little sister, this is kind of a rough one for the first three quarters or so, it does get better I swear, posted without being beta read and in the early hours of the morning
AN: This was a wonderful request that I got from borhapgirlforlife19, and my first one for this blog, so thank you!! Really hope you enjoy it! The request asked for smut at the end, and I’m gonna be working on that in the next couple of days! I wanted to put it in two parts; one because this got quite long, and also separating it means that those who don’t wanna read smut can choose not to click on the second half if they wish! Actually gave myself psychic damage writing some of this lmao
Being the little sister to the school’s golden boy had both good and bad connotations. For one, you weren’t picked on throughout your years in high school, able to weave through the halls and mind your own business. Make a couple of friends, and manage to keep your head down and focus on your grades.
However, the downside was that Jason was the one to make your life hell, if he was in one of his moods. A couple of times he’d humiliated you for some inane reason that he thought required payback. The worst had been when you’d told your Mom about him sneaking out at night to drink with his buddies, only to come back from a gym class the next day to find your fantasy books in shreds after they’d been stolen from your bag. No doubt orchestrated by Jason as revenge, seeing as the cheerleaders seemed to follow his every command.
It was how you and Eddie had first met, the day that it happened.
You were crying under the East stairwell during class, hating the thought of having to go to class and face the smug looks on the faces of your bullies, knowing they’d finally got to you by ruining the one thing you enjoyed. Back pressed against the cold bricks, arms wrapped around your legs and your forehead pressed against your knees as you tried to will yourself to stop crying.
“What’re you cryin’ for, pretty girl?” he had asked you softly, making your head snap up to look at him. A halo of dark curls and soft brown eyes, such a contrast against his rough and sharp outfit of ripped jeans and chains. When you only sniffled in response, he carefully crouched in front of you, a respectful distance away as he placed his rings hands against his knees. “Somethin’ bad happen?”
“M-my books,” you manage to get out between ragged breaths, and you watched as his eyes flickered towards the piles of paper by your bag. It looked as if you had tried to rescue them, only to become overwhelmed after you realised it was pointless. Sitting himself in front of you, legs crossed in front of him, a hand slowly reached out to carefully pluck a cover from the pile. Eyebrows furrowing as he clicked his tongue behind his teeth and shook his head as his eyes snapped back up yours.
“Someone destroyed a copy of The Silmarillion? Why princess, that’s sacrilege. Honestly, the firing squad need to be summoned at once for this heinous crime.” His dramatic flair as he spoke; the hand clutching fake pearls and the exaggerated exasperation made you let out a small giggle. His face warmed as he set his hands back in his lap, tilting his head with a soft smile.
“There it is,” he mused, making your eyebrows knit in confusion at his words.
“What?” was your dumb reply, already internally kicking yourself at how small and helpless you sounded.
“There’s that smile I look for in the cafeteria,” he answered with a soft voice, making your stomach flip pleasantly at the thought of him looking for you in a sea of people. You’d known of Eddie, of course you did. Had watched him launch himself up onto the table to parade around, yelling about whatever had him revved up that day. Had seen him rough-housing with his friends in the hallways, all smiles and earnest laughter. But you’d also seen the kinder side of him. Letting people pass when he was in the way, or holding doors open on instinct whenever someone was behind him. No matter how much people bullied him, he was still giving them common decency. And now you knew he knew who you were? You couldn’t stop the heavy blush dusting your cheeks.
As if sensing your slight embarrassment, he cleared his throat as he shifted on his place on the floor to get more comfortable. Both hands placed on the floor behind, him, leaning back as if giving you some space if you needed it. “Soooo… I happen to have a few copies of Tolkien kicking around my place. Wouldn’t mind lending them to you, until you get another. Totally your call, though. Won’t be offended if you tell me to get lost.”
Your heart warmed at the offer. You’d never spoken to him before, but he was clearly picking up on how upset you were, willing to go without if it made you happy. The kindness that you’d soon learn that filled him so much he was fit to burst with the intensity, especially when it came to the ones he loved and cared for. It made your smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt as you wiped your tears away with the back of your cardigan as you nodded.
“I’d like that.”
A love of books had bonded you both, and what begun as sneaking copies of what one thought the other would like when nobody was around turned into hanging out to talk about them. You’d tell your parents you were visiting a friend when you went out for the weekend, which was technically the truth. You would spend your free time in his messy bedroom, reading in comfortable silence or watching him play his guitar as you tried to focus on homework, something that fascinated you endlessly. The way his fingers would move over the fret board with an ease that came from a lot of practice, playing you songs that you thought you’d like. He was the one to introduce you to heavy metal, and you found that you actually really liked it. You’d had so many deep conversations when you were curled beside him on his bed, talking about how much you hated when Jason picked on you and others, or other worries that filled your mind. He was a good listener, and always seemed to know what to say to soothe you. His bedroom became your solace, somewhere that you would yearn for when you weren’t there.
 In return, he shared the thoughts that you knew he never shared with anyone else, keeping them to himself and gnawing on his soul. How much he missed his Mom, or how the years of abuse at the hands of his father when he was drunk still made him carry both mental and physical scars. You soothed him when it became too much, a hand on his and rubbing soothing patterns onto the skin of the back of his hand as you listened to the heartache that poured from him. You wondered why he never asked you not to tell, but it eventually dawned on you that he trusted you. He trusted you to hold his heart, and to never crush it. And it made you feel honoured to do so.
It was there that you had your first kiss. You could still remember how you were both laughing at some silly joke as you lay side by side, and the way that your bodies were practically inches from each other when you rolled onto your side to face him. How his eyes darted down to your lips, his own parting as if he was silently asking for permission. Seemingly finding the want you had for him in your body language, and closing the distance to slot his lips between your own. He tasted like cigarettes and cherry flavoured gum, and it became a taste you so desperately needed every time you were with him. Needed the way that his hand would come up to cradle your jaw, the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin. He always kissed you like it would be the last; passionate, tender, loving. He was your first kiss, and you found yourself wanting him to be the only boy you kissed for the rest of your life.
Ever since the first, the kisses didn’t stop. He would come and find you, nodding his head towards a supply closet and ducking inside, knowing you would follow to be wrapped in his arms with his mouth peppering your lips, your cheeks, your jaw with soft kisses as he told you how beautiful you were. You were only dating for a few months, but it was the small things like that which had you smitten with each other. He would find you small gifts that made him think of you; a beanie baby of an otter, because you once noted how adorable you found them. A silver chain bracelet very similar to his, though daintier, that you wore with pride. His eyes would light up when would find him new books to read that were his favoured genre, finding them when you took trips to the second hand bookstore. Your handwriting on the first page, saying things like ‘I thought you’d like this one because of the lore on elves. Enjoy!’ with your name signed underneath and a small heart.
You didn’t know it, but Jason knew something was up with you. You’d been smiling more, and wasn’t bothered by his usual jabs to your confidence, and the fact of it enraged him. The suspicions were confirmed when he was snooping through your room when you were out of the house, finding a very familiar shirt buried in the bottom of your dresser drawer. Moth eaten and faded with time, the black cotton with WASP proudly emblazoned on the front made him see red as he clutched it tighter in his hand. He knew who the previous owner was, considering he was one of the only people he knew that listened to this sort of music. Not to mention the faint smell of weed still eminating from the fabric. What the fuck was Munson’s shirt doing in your room? Slowly, he put the clues together. The late nights coming home, the smell of cigarettes on your clothes and the near constant chipper demeanour for the past couple of months.
You were banging the freak. And he wasn’t going to have that.
A plan formed in his mind, coming to fruition on the Monday morning before class. One of the cheerleaders, Donna, had a knack for copying handwriting; she was the one that they would come to if they needed a fake sick note, or an excuse for not doing homework. Filling her and the rest of the cheerleaders in on the plan, they were all right on board to make his little sister and the Devil worshipper of Hawkins break up. “It’s for her own good,” they had nodded sagely as they all chipped in an insult to write down, as though they were fully in their right to meddle in people’s affairs. Chrissy seemed uncomfortable with it, though she didn’t say anything as she watched. Just hanging onto Jason’s varsity jacket sleeve, giving him a small frown that he chose to ignore. In his eyes, he was second ranking in the position of the other man of the house. The women in the household were expected to listen to him, just like they listened to his father. In his eyes, he was doing the right thing. Straight up threatening would only push you further into Munson’s arms. This way? This way, he could kill two birds with one stone. Destroy Munson, and get his little sister away from him. The freak would be doing all the hard work, and he could come out of this looking like the one in the right. It was perfect.
~
Eddie was late to school, yet again. He was really trying to get in on time, knowing that it would look bad on him. The rubber soles of his sneakers squeaked against the linoleum as he rounded the corner, coming to a harsh stop in front of his locker. “Shit, shit, c’mon baby work with me,” he quietly pleaded with the combination lock, fingers fumbling as he twisted the dial. A triumphant noise escaping his lips as it finally unlocked, making quick work of putting his backpack and lunch box into the locker as he picked up the Math and Chemistry books he needed. He almost missed the small folded piece of paper that fluttered on the floor, his name in a familiar handwriting with a small heart just underneath. A sight that he was always glad to see, knowing that this was something you did often. Picking it up and shoving it into his pocket, he booked it towards Math. Not really because he was excited to learn about whatever the fuck the teacher was on about. But because he would have time to read your little love note.
Ten minutes into the lesson, and he finally took his chance to retrieve the paper and gently fold it open. Seeing his name on the top made him swoon. But as his eyes scanned the words, the grip on the note tightened so much that his ringed knuckles turned white.
Eddie,
I know it isn’t April Fools yet, but surprise!! Got you real good there, didn’t I? Got you thinking this was real, didn’t you? God, you’re a loser. Should have seen your face when I said I loved you. All doe eyes and stupid grin. Who would ever love you? You’re a freak and a nobody. Trailer park trash, just like your no good Daddy. Wonder if you’re gonna share a cell when you eventually wind up in prison? Or will you OD on smack before then, just like Mommy? Maybe if you do some sort of pact with your Lord and Master Lucifer, they might bring them back for you? When you’re not too busy sucking his dick, of course.
I never want to see your pathetic, ugly face again. This is the last you’ll hear of me. So enjoy the memories of me fucking you while they last, perv. Hope this finally sends you over the edge and you finally do us all a fucking favour.
p.s. Get a fucking haircut, you look like like the ugliest chick alive.
Your name was signed on it, and it just made his heart shatter that much more, his whole world crashing down around him. His hands were shaking as he tried to control his breathing, trying to keep it from going as rapid as his body was trying to force him to do. Vision growing blurry as hot tears pricked at his eyes that he couldn’t stop from forming. He was stood up before he realised his own body was moving, barely hearing the teacher yell at him for leaving the class halfway through and Jeff’s voice asking “What the fuck, man?”
Now in the halls, he began sprinting. Letting his feet pound on the floor as a wretched sob burst from his chest, running towards the only place of solace that he had left. He’d thought that he’d got used to the bullying over the years. He’d got used to the punches and kicks; those could be patched up and bruises covered. Even the names stopped bothering him after a while, after he’d heard them enough times. Only one time had got him to this state, and that was when they had stolen a necklace that he had hung on the rearview mirror of his van. One of the last things he had that belonged to his mother- the one of very few items in the whole world that he cherished more than anything. And it was you who had got it back for him after you snuck into Jason’s room to get it, risking your own neck in the process. It was you who he had spoken about her to, about how much he missed her every damn day and still wished every night that she was still around. You had hugged him while he cried on her birthday last month, carding your fingers through his hair so tenderly and softly whispering that it was okay to cry, to just let it all out, that you were always going to be around to catch him when he felt like he was free falling.
He had trusted you, heart and soul. He loved you. And none of it was real.
“Hey, have you seen Eddie?”
You were confused to not find him at the head of the Hellfire table when you got to the cafeteria. You were used to him giving you a lopsided grin as you passed to make your way to sit with your friends, teasingly patting his lap in offering and knowing full well that you wanted nothing more than to indulge and finally join him. Coming up to the table was already a risk; the boys who sat there looking nervous as you approached. But you had to. Eddie had promised that he wouldn’t skip school because he was determined to graduate this year, and you knew full well that you would see him here if he nothing was wrong. Was he sick? Maybe his van broke down? Either way, your stomach lurched as you waited for an answer.
The boys shot looks you couldn’t quite decipher between them all, and it was a curly haired boy with a boyish smile that Eddie told you was named Dustin to finally answer. “Do you uh… Do you need him for anything?”
You knew why they were being apprehensive. With the last name of Carver, of course it was going set them on edge. No doubt your older brother was making their lives a misery, and they wondered if you were about to do the same.
You gave them a soft smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I um… I-I have one of his books that he gave me. Wanted to return it.” Technically the truth. His beloved copy of Lord of the Rings was safely tucked in your backpack.
“We can give it to him,” Dustin offered, still eyeing you with suspicion.
“Oh, thank you, but there’s no need,” you answered, keeping your tone light. “I actually need to talk to him about something, too.”
The one with the dark cropped hair and kind eyes seemed to give you some pity. “You know that’s his girlfriend, right?” he muttered to his friends, keeping his voice down in case they were overheard. All eyes snapped back to you, shoulders relaxing and small sheepish smiles when they finally put two and two together. Eddie had been talking non-stop about a girl he was dating, and it was actually Jeff who had sussed it out first. It wasn’t rocket science, considering he’d probably caught the way you two stared at each other every moment you got. You wondered why Eddie hadn’t told them your identity, but you also understood. If word got out that you two were dating, it’d mean untold consequences for the both of you. You knew he trusted his friends enough not to snitch you two out, but you guessed he was just being extra careful with it all.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, smiling fondly at being called ‘his girlfriend’ in public. His girlfriend. You were Eddie’s, and he was yours. And you loved how it sounded. “I was just wondering if he was okay? If he was actually in school today?”
“He burst out of Math about something,” Jeff explained, shrugging as he pushed food around his plate with the tines of his fork. “Seemed real pissed. You might find him out in the woods, past the football fields and keeping right on the path. He sometimes goes there to smoke on the old bench out there.”
You couldn’t stop your heart racing as you nodded, thanking them profusely as you turned heel and left towards the place Jeff had told you about. Eddie was mad at something? He seemed fine when you saw him yesterday. In fact, he seemed in a really good mood. He’d got his first C in English, and you celebrated by ordering in pizza and cuddling up to watch horror movies on his couch. It had made him laugh when you jumped at the sudden scares in the movie, a smug grin on his face when you cuddled into him and whined that it wasn’t funny. Kissing the top of your head as he soothed a hand over your back. “Don’t worry babe,” he’d cooed. “I’ll save you from all the nasty zombies.”
So the fact that he’d left a class that he was set on passing was making you worry even more. Had Jason done something to upset him again? If he had, that would be the last straw. Eddie was rubbing off on you, and not in a bad way. For your whole life, you had bowed to your older brother. If he said jump, you asked how high. But Eddie had gently reminded you that you were your own person, and you didn’t have to do anything that you didn’t want. And that included with him, too. Many times, you had talked about losing your virginity with him, and he had promised that you would finally take the next step in your relationship, as soon as you were sure you were ready. As soon as you were sure you wanted to lose it with him. And like the gentleman he was, he never went any further than some light over the clothes action when you’d practically begged him to, respecting your wishes to not go any further. And you loved him all the more for it.
He came into view as you entered the clearing, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the very familiar Dio patch on the back of him denim jacket. He was sat on the table of the bench, feet planted against the seat, facing away from you and his shoulders hunched over. You could see the lit cigarette in his hand as he leaned his weight on the arm beside him, clutched between index and middle finger that was tapping in quick succession on the rotten wood. It was a nervous habit that you’d picked up on a while ago. Though his hands were always in motion, you could tell by the pace what kind of mood he was in. Slow and languid meant he was calm or sleepy. Slightly more rapid, he was excited. If they moved in the shape of frets to his favourite songs, he was trying to focus on something to take his mind off whatever bothered him. But this near frantic energy meant he was really, really upset or angry. It set you on edge a little as you winced at the sight of it.
“Eds?” you called out, noticing how his whole form froze as he heard your voice calling the name only you called him. A soft, sharp sob escaping his chest, the sound causing cracks to form in your heart. You took careful steps towards him, rounding the bench as you came into his view. Eyes downcast, red and puffy from crying. Cheeks stained from tears, and bottom lip quivering as he gasped for breath. Your eyebrows furrowed as you softly cooed, holding out your arms as you stepped towards him. “Baby, what’s wro-”
“Don’t you fucking touch me.” His voice was cracked, the edges of the words sharp and laced with anger, making you stop dead in your tracks and freeze in place.
Your eyes widened as you took a sharp inhale of breath, confusion marring your features as you dropped your hands to your sides. “Eddie? What’s wrong?”
He laughed, though there was no trace of humour in them as he shook his head and poked his cheek with his tongue. Reaching into his jean pocket, a piece of paper was in his grasp for only a second, before it was flung towards your feet. “You still keeping up the charade, Carver? Wanna try and hurt me more?” The use of your last name made you cringe. He knew you hated when people called you that; you hated being called the same thing as your brother. To Eddie, you were babydoll, princess, babe, sweetheart or angel. Barely ever your name any more. Using your last name was a weapon to hurt you with. And you both knew it.
Reaching down to pick up the piece of paper, you unfolded it and skimmed it through. A strangled, horrified sound escaping your lips as you felt physically sick from the cruelty of the words. The handwriting was so familiar, yet slight differences that only you could notice. The inflections of the letter I, or the syntax slightly off. But an icy hot panic washed over you in an instant when you realised why it was so familiar. It was your handwriting. Well, nearly. But to him, blinded by rage and hurt, those differences didn’t matter. You tried desperately to find the words, to try and tell him that none of this was you, but all you could do was shake your head.
You heard him take a sharp inhale of breath, and when your eyes flickered up, you watched the smoke languidly flow from his mouth. He wasn’t crying now. Instead, there was a mask-like quality to his features. Devoid of all emotion, eyes hardened as he stared at you. And honestly? It hurt worse than seeing him upset. Knowing that underneath it all, he was fully blaming you for the trauma. “Going to drop the act now? Hm?” He flicked the filter of the cigarette in your direction, with more force than needed to break the embers away. “You’re embarrassing yourself with keeping it up.”
“Eddie, I didn’t write this,” you whispered, tone practically pleading as you gripped the note with shaking hands. “You’ve gotta believe me, I don’t-”
“I know your fuckin’ handwriting,” he interjected, spoken through gritted teeth. “Don’t play dumb.”
“No, please, I promise! I swear on everything I love!” Your voice was becoming more shrill as you flailed your arms around, wishing to God that the ground would swallow you up. This was it. You’d never know Eddie’s kisses again; never know the intimate moments on late afternoons when you were wrapped up in his arms, or listen to him sing along to whatever he played on his guitar with that devastatingly beautiful voice of his. It was all snatched away from you, and you hadn’t even done anything.
“That’s your problem,” he scoffed, pointing at you with the fingers that held his cigarette between them, jabbing them at you with fury. “You don’t love anything. You’re a fucking sociopath, Carver. Just like your brother.”
His vile words made your knees buckle, sending you careening to the dirt and leaves until you kneeled in front of him, the crumbled note in your hands that rested on your lap. Hot tears welled in your eyes as you dropped your head, a sob wracking through your chest as the accusation hit you. Causing all brain function to cease as you shook your head. Over the course of your relationship, you’d never said those three little words to him. Too scared of rocking the boat, of driving him away if you said them too soon. Didn’t want to be too clingy, or too desperate, fearful of never being good enough for him and living in fear that some day he would up and leave when he found a girl who would treat him right. Wouldn’t have a brother who was one of his biggest tormentors.
“That’s not true,” you finally managed to squeak out. “I… I love you, Eddie. I’m so sorry that I never said it before but-” Your words were interrupted with another whimpered hiccup, trying to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan before trying again. “If I could turn back the clock, I’d never stop saying it. Please, just believe me when I say that I didn’t do this.” You finally looked up at him, not noticing a slight confusion that furrowed his brow, too wrapped up in your own grief and agony. “I love you, Eddie. I love you more than anything.”
Everything seemed to stop for long, agonising moments. Only the sounds of your small sobs, and his hitched breath mingling with the distant sounds of birdsong. “You… You didn’t say it,” he finally murmured, harshly driving the embers of his cigarette against the table until it was extinguished and hopping off it to take a few steps towards you.
“Wh-what?” you whimpered, flinching as he took another step.
“The note, you… It said that you told me you loved me.” His words were rushed now, his hands coming up to run harshly through his curls, giving them a small tug as the penny well and truly dropped. “But you never did. And it said that we… That we slept together, but we haven’t.”
You scanned the note again, noticing what he was talking about. The stuff about his parents was knowledge that was easy to come by if you asked the right people, considering the rumour mill in this small town was always working full time. Devil worshipping, living in a trailer park and cheap shots at his appearance? That had been flung at him since middle school. But he was right. In his haze of anger and hurt, he must have forgotten that some of the content just didn’t add up. But who would do this? Who had this much malice and scorn, that they would try and split you up like this?
The name seemed to come into both your minds at the same second, knocking against your skulls with the force of it. A person that hated his guts, and wouldn’t care if you got hurt in the process. In fact, they might see it as some sort of punishment. A consequence for your actions, that would would be criminal if they had their way.
A long few moments of silence filled the clearing, both of you trying to wrap their heads around the consequences of this encounter. Would you be able to come back from this? Would Eddie be able to forgive himself for the harsh words spat like hellfire, because of his own wounded heart? Would you be able to forgive him? Was this the end of everything, before it even had the chance to fully begin? You had fallen so hard for him, and now you felt like you were freefalling, and the anxieties that came with that feeling made your gut clench and palms sweat.
You were the first to speak. A small “oh my God,” barely audible, burying your face in your hands to try and hide away from the embarrassment and pain. Of course your brother would be the culprit behind this. And behind the agony, sparks of fury threatened to set ablaze the kindling of memories, of all the times he had made you feel less than a person. Hiding your dress hours before the Winter Formal, not caring how much you cried when you realised you weren’t going to be able to go. Breaking countless cassettes because he didn’t approve of them. Driving away potential friends because he ‘didn’t approve’. All with the knowledge that your parents saw it all, and didn’t do a thing to stop it. Jason was the golden child. The star basketball player, the popular one, the one who could never do something wrong. You knew that, all you life, you knew. But now, being with Eddie, a person that thought you hung the moon and saw you, really saw you, and loved you with such a warm intensity that it seeped through every fibre of you being? You weren’t ready to give that up. Not for anything.
You heard movement from in front of you; a heavy thump as you opened your eyes to find him kneeling in front of you, knees framing the outsides of your own. His dark eyes so filled with regret and shame, that it hurt to look at. His shaky hands came towards you, yet stopped when he realised that maybe you didn’t want him to touch you. Perhaps thinking that maybe you just… Couldn’t forgive him. “Baby, I-I’m so sorry… Please, can we talk-”
It was instinct that drove you to launch yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and burying your face into the crook of his neck, nearly knocking him off balance. You felt him coil his arms around you in return, a hand on the back of your neck and his forearm against the small of your back, pressing you close to his chest. “I-It wasn’t me,” you mumbled, muffled by his skin and hoping he could hear you because of it. “J-Jason…”
“Ssh, it’s okay,” he softly cooed, the hand resting at your waist gently rubbing at the skin there to soothe you. “I know. I know it wasn’t you, okay? A-and I’m so sorry for what I said. I was so wrong, and I was an asshole, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me because it was such an awful thing to say, a-and…”
You knew that he rambled whenever he was upset, and though the sorrow was still there, a fondness seeped through you at the reminder of his little habits. A warmth in the knowledge that this was fixable, and that you had the luxury of time in the relationship to fix the heartache that this had caused. “You don’t need to apologise,” you said softly, head raising to meet his own, forehead pressed against his. “You were hurt, and I understand. It was such an awful thing they did to you, Eddie. I just wish I could say sorry on my brother’s behalf.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he frowned. “Please don’t ever apologise for other people’s actions. Especially not your dickhead of a brother.” The jab at Jason made you abruptly smile at the sentiment, and he mirrored it as he shifted his legs to pull you to sit in his lap. “Because I was wrong. Carver is your last name, but you’re nothin’ like him, sweetheart. You’re kind, and funny, and so smart. Beautiful, too.”
The compliments made your cheeks warm as you let out a small giggle, shaking your head a fraction as you bit your bottom lip. “Stop…” The whine was small, and playful. God, you never wanted him to stop loving you with his words. Not really.
As if he knew, he rose to the challenge, capturing your lips in his own with a soft and brief kiss. “Pretty,” he whispered against your lips, adding another kiss. “Talented.” Another kiss, though to the side of your mouth. “Brave.” One at you jaw. “Thoughtful.” The word pressed into your neck, and you could feel him smile against the skin there. “You wan’ me to keep going, or are you gonna give in and let me adore you?”
“I give in,” you squealed, hurt temporarily forgotten at the tender affection that he gave. Happy to share a few moments in his embrace, enjoying the warmth and tenderness that you would never grow tired of. You allowed the silence to settle for only a few heartbeats, before you finally broke it. “I meant it, you know.”
He came into view again, a small smile on his lips as his eyebrows slightly furrowed in questioning. “Meant what, angel?”
“That I love you.” The words came easier now; now that they could come from the heart, each syllable laced with loving intent. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but… I mean it. I’ve fallen in love with you, Eddie Munson.”
The grin that overtook his face was an incredible sight. His eyes crinkling with the ferocity of it, happiness seeping from every pore. “I love you too, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much.”
The lunch bell must have rung out a long time ago, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Not when you were kissing him like this, and he was returning them with a matching earnestness. You kissed until your lips were slightly bruised, barely coming up for air before coming back for more. So in love, your heart so full that it was a near ache. You only stopped when you felt the soft patters of rain on the crown of your head, looking up to find the skies a deep grey, threatening to let the heavens open. He helped you up onto wobbly legs, his arm around you as you made your way back to the school for shelter.
You noticed his apprehension as you got closer, and you knew exactly why. He was worried that if Jason saw you together, he would make both your lives hell. But with this little stunt your brother tired to pull, that kindling of rebellion had been well and truly set alight. You no longer wanted Jason to make decisions for you. Eddie Munson was the love of your life. And you didn’t give a single fuck who knew it. Placing your hand on his where it rested on your shoulder, you looked up at him with a smile. A silent plea to keep it there, and one he seemed to acknowledge as he pulled you closer.
“Can I come over tonight, after school?” you asked him, voice hopeful as you bit your lip.
“’Course you can,” he answered with a grin. “Was thinking about taking you for a milkshake at that diner you like, actually. Could drop by there before we get to mine, if you want?”
It was an invitation to go public, and you knew that. A lot of the teenagers at your school went to that diner, and it wouldn’t be long before word got back to your brother about your involvement with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that. Hope filled you as you tilted your head. “Like a date?”
“Like a date,” he echoed, pecking a kiss to your temple. “Never took you out on one before, and that’s kind of a shitty boyfriend move. How ‘bout it, sweetheart? Wanna finally have that first date I owe you?”
A grin spread over your features as the school finally came into view. You were about to walk the halls of Hawkins high, your boyfriend finally by your side and his arm over your shoulders, just like you finally wanted. Screw what anyone else wanted.
“I’d like that.”
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thegoldencontracts · 1 month
Note
Hullo! If you're taking fic requests, may I politely ask for an 'x Azul' one involving Azul getting really invested in market research for something a little pointless? Maybe it's trying twenty different kinds of olive to see which makes the best garnish, maybe it's minor variations on their standard cloth napkins as sorted by softness, who knows? Just something he makes the MC test for him and he's very lucky MC loves him enough to put up with it.
Of course, something has to go wrong eventually. Maybe teaming up with the tweels to end the constant stream of tests? Shenanigans are always welcome~ hehehe.
Thank you for your time!
Of course! Azul my belovedd <3 Anyways, thank you for the request, and a little note to anyone reading that I appreciate any and all requests!
Of Much Importance
Summary: Azul is a man of business, even when that business-matter involves making his dearly beloved test out dishes for him. Except, he's making you test to see how many flakes of chili is optimal? Flakes?
Unless you do something, you're going to be here forever - or until your stomach bursts.
Notes: Fluff, and some humor, a bit of flirting
"Darling," Azul - your lovely, lovely boyfriend you who you were on the verge of murdering if it weren't for the fact that he had superstrength, and the twins were actually surprisingly protective when he was badly hurt, and you loved him too much - said, holding yet another plate of the same guacamole but with one more chili flakes. "Does this one taste better?"
You were at a seat in the currently closed Lounge, which would've meant no one would hear him scream if you punched him, but of course, the twins were sitting at the next table, being subjected to the same thing as you.
It tastes the exact same because this is literally the exact same dish with one more chili flakes. You think anyone'll notice that, Azul? You wanted to say.
Instead, you just tried to appease him. He seemed pretty stressed, and for good reason. Finals were coming up, and that meant a surge of new contracts for him, and a surge of sleepless nights, if the way his concealer had gotten heavier said anything. He was zoning in on every little detail, and you understood why. That didn't make it any less frustrating.
"I'm sure it's fine-"
"No." Azul said, sounding way too intense for someone talking about a singular chili flake. "This is sub-optimal. I must conduct further research. I apologize, but I will temporarily leave."
"Bye," you said, trying not to sound too happy.
Finally, a break for your stomach! Your poor, poor stomach. You still remembered how this all started.
"Darling, would you mind taste-testing a few new recipes for me?"
"Of course not!"
You thought it would be easy. You were so, so wrong. Because those 'few' recipes were actually over a hundred. And those recipes were the exact same guacamole with one more chili flake each time.
You hated guacamole now. The next time you saw an avocado, you'd have an aneurysm.
As you lamented, the twins entered your field of vision. Here to float, you guessed.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh at me," you said, but neither of them were laughing. Jade had his polite smile, but it was strained. His eye was twitching.
Finally, Floyd spoke up.
"I can't take this anymore!" He said. "You gotta find a way to make him stop!"
They were suffering too? You guys were companions in misery?
"Jade?" You asked.
"I'm afraid I must agree," he said. "This is becoming much too trying for me to bear. I fear my stomach may no longer be able to contain this food."
So, you really were cohorts in misery. The question was, now what? What did you do? Azul could come back any moment.
"Do you have a plan then?"
Please let them have a plan, please. You couldn't take this anymore.
Silence. You were beginning to lose hope when Floyd spoke up.
"Flirt with him," he said, sounding way too serious considering what he was suggesting.
That was his best idea? Flirting?
Wait.
Azul was great at being suave, but maybe he couldn't take what he dished out. In fact, he probably couldn't take what he dished out.
"Floyd."
"Yeah?"
"Has anyone told you you're a genius?" You asked.
"All the time," Floyd said, though he didn't seem smug. "Hate it. They keep telling me to apply myself. Usually the thing they're telling me to do's super boring."
Oh, right. Floyd was actually a savant.
"Get back to your seats. We can't look too suspicious," you said, and the twins nodded, scampering back to their seats.
Just in time, because at that moment, Azul walked back into the restaurant, carrying another plate of guacamole with him.
"Is this one better?" He said, but this time, instead of appeasing him, you stood up, leaning in close. It was time for you to use that dating-sim knowledge.
"How do you expect me to focus on the food when I've got the most gorgeous man this world has to offer staring at me?"
Azul flushed, turning away with a huff.
"Regardless of the falsehood of that statement, it is entirely irrelevant to this conversation," he said. That wouldn't do. You weren't going to let him get out of this.
"Now, now," you said, hooking an arm around his shoulder. "Don't deny it, darling."
In an attempt to maintain his composure, Azul looked away. You just hooked a finger under his chin to combat that.
"Don't deny me the privilege of watching you lose your composure like this, Azul," you said, enjoying every second of this.
"I, er-"
You leaned in, puckering your lips. Azul scrunched his eyes shut in anticipation.
But nothing happened. After a while, Azul finally opened his eyes, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"You- you looked hilarious!" You said. "All red n' blushy. I should really do this more often."
Azul scowled, swatting you away.
"Leave at once," he said, though there wasn't any bite to his voice. "I shall go to my room and continue this endeavor in private."
No more guacamole? No more guacamole! Yes! Victory, at last.
"Of course." As you left, you could see Jade and Floyd give you a thumbs up.
Back in your room, but you couldn't help but smile. As irritating as this whole endeavor had been - and as bad as it was for your stomach - you couldn't deny that this new side to Azul was one you enjoyed.
You really would have to do this more often.
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