#it's a bittersweet thing - there's no real comforting answer

[jelluf1sh]

౨ৎ — alt. ending!

there were few things gojo loved about life. a handful of simple joys that made his — frankly, tiring — existence as the world’s strongest sorcerer just a pinch better.

one of them was your face. a vague first, and he knows that, but that doesn’t change his answer.

“satoru, look. look how many there are!”

look at you, fascinated with something as simple as jellyfish, your eyes illuminated by the blue luminescence of the bubbling tank, your palms pressed to the glass as if you’d never even heard of a sea creature before. he’d never given a second thought to things like that, but he’d buy you the entire aquarium to keep that smile on your face.

“mhmm,” he murmurs, "real pretty.” not once had he taken his eyes off you. even with six of them, he could never get tired of the way your cheeks stretch and your lips show off your teeth.

the second thing was the way you looked at him.

or maybe, he'd told himself countless times, times late at night when his thoughts raced with you, times when he felt his heart ache and pull against his ribs, begging his lips to spill words that his brain told him to keep in, maybe you look at the whole world like that. he wouldn’t be surprised if you did. the way your eyes gleamed when you stared at something you loved — satoru gojo never thought he could be jealous of an inanimate object until he met you.

the third thing was the fact that you didn’t know how he felt. it was a bittersweet, slightly addicting feeling, like candy with a sour coating and a sugary aftertaste. he’d thought out how to tell you: that was why you were at the aquarium right now, though he’d disguised the very obvious date as another hangout when he’d first texted you.

“i didn’t know there were so many different kinds,” you continued to ramble, your hands still pressed to the tank. then you turned to him with that look. that look of wonder. like a child — and gojo hated children, but when you looked at him like that…

“do you think we’re jellyfish in some other life?” such a stupid, random question, and yet his heart pounds, and he prays you can’t hear it. white lashes flutter under his sunglasses, all six eyes focused on the shape of your lips as they push out sweet words. the strongest sorcerer, prodigy of the gojo clan, reduced to something of an elementary school kid with a life-sized crush.

“…yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice nearly cracks. “yeah, probably.”

the rest of that day was spent in a comfortable bubble, just you and gojo, wandering around staring at fish. it was simple, and he’d not have it any other way. for a few hours, he could forget about it all, take in your face and feel his tiredness die out like a bad dream.

...satoru gojo swore the gods must have hated him.

he couldn’t even lift the tarp. it was white, practically red now that unimaginable amounts of blood had soaked it through. your eyes were closed now, courtesy of him — because you deserved to rest in peace, and because he couldn’t bear to see the fear preserved in them as you lay there on the table. as a reminder that he wasn't there to save you.

'killed in action'. three fucking words, and his world was turned on its head.

if had he known the aquarium was the last place you two would've been happy together, gojo would've given anything to make that day last just a few minutes longer, so he could spill his guts, pour his heart out, told you that you could be jellyfish in your next lives like he should have.

but in the end, you died without ever knowing he loved you.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #꒰🪼꒱ jelly writes. #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #if this gets 1k likes i'll make an alt ending /srs #user jelluf1sh actually posting real writing ?!!1!?? #drabble #jjk drabbles

[beomcoups]

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia.  Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did. 

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend. 

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you.  You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop. 

 I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night. 

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.” 

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.” 

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.” 

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.” 

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition. 

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?” 

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to. 

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off. 

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head. 

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting. 

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing. 

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them. 

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic. 

 You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.” 

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” 

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. 

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.” 

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.” 

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that. 

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.” 

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future. 

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.” 

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

[chaconnenha]

심재윤 ARCADE

⸝⸝ ❛ all i know, all i know is …

loving you is a losing game ❜

📄⸝⸝ but you still loved him anyway ❪ ꕤ ❫ pairing. sjy x f!reader ʬʬʬ───includes. hurt/slight comfort, fake dating, technically cheating, past toxic relationships, unrequited love, bittersweet ending, not proofread ( 2k words ) . . . BACK TO LIBRARY ?!

WHEN YOU FIRST MET HIM, he was anything but broken. The life of the party, he wore smiles as casually as the designer clothing that lined his walk-in wardrobe—racks of beige and blacks that brought out the glow of his sunkissed skin that left you staring at him whenever he passed. You were never ‘friends,’ but he knew how to make you feel like one: always stopping in the middle of the halls to ask you about your day, waving to you in the carpark as he stood surrounded by his closest mates, and introducing you to his girlfriend one day when she tagged along to the study date the two of you had planned for your group project.

As for his girlfriend, you knew to nip the bud of your blooming attraction to the man as soon as you met her. Clinging to his arm to entire time, whispering inaudible things into his ear to draw out the chuckles you loved hearing so much, it was clear that she was making a statement—a claim. The boy is mine, she said, whenever she called him by the nicknames that only a girlfriend would ever have—nicknames you could only dream of calling him. Stay away, she said, when she placed a long, firm kiss on his lips before she stood up to get a coffee, swaying her hips in a way she knew would have him hypnotised, because his eyes were always on her. Always. Even when they weren’t together any longer… and even when he was supposed to be with you.

You should have minded your own business, should have never involved yourself in their games. But it was impossible to ignore the crestfallen look on his face when his on and off girlfriend of two years walked up to another man only a day after their breakup, and kissed the guy the same way she used to kiss him. And you—ever the sweet, naive, lovesick fool—didn’t think twice when you offered to help him get even. When you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend, just to make her jealous, and definitely not because you wanted to show him that you would love him better than she ever could. (Or so you tried to convince the both of you.)

But the heart was not so easy to change, you soon discovered.

“Jakey,” you whispered, shaking the man’s shoulder as he lay unconscious on the couch, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

It was a new habit that he developed, where he would disappear—not answering any of your calls or texts—until the early hours of the morning, where you would find him collapsed on the couch of your apartment, which you gave him access to in case he ever needed you. And like the caring (fake) girlfriend you were, you tried not to give him too much heat for the fact that the only time he ever needed you was when he was too drunk to even know the difference between you and his ex girlfriend.

His ex girlfriend whose name he whispered when he opened his eyes to see you peering down at him.

“No, it’s me,” you replied, your heart aching at the furrow in his brows before he immediately fell back asleep, as if wanting to dream a reality where she was the one who was here instead of you. You sighed. Shaking away the needless thoughts that rattled their way in your mind, you grabbed the spare blankets from the guest room to cover him with. And it was then when you spotted the familiar name that appeared across the screen of his phone as it fell from his hand, onto the floor beneath your feet.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have hurt. Because none of this was real, anyway, and you knew from the moment you put your heart into this that it would end up breaking. Yet the feeling was all too real when it finally happened; the moment you had been dreading, but also knew would always end up coming….

I miss you, the text read. Let’s get back together.

And you didn’t know what made it worse: the fact that you knew he would always choose her over you, or the fact that just before she had sent the text saying she missed him, he had sent one with the words you always wanted to hear but never got to: I love you.

That was when you knew loving Sim Jaeyun was a losing game.

“You can’t do this anymore.”

You ignored the pleas of your best friend as you curled up against the headboard of your bed, your face buried into your knees as you let out all the tears you had been holding back. You sent Jake away as soon as he woke up. And if he noticed the lack of breakfast on the table or kisses on the cheek, you didn’t give him the opportunity to ask about it. As soon as his shoelaces were tied, you were ushering him out the door, before slamming it into his face, so you could retreat to your room and call upon the comfort of your bed and your best friend.

“I don’t know what else to do,” you sobbed quietly, your voice as weak as your body felt. “I really did love him… I wanted him to see that I could love him like he deserved.”

Your best friend frowned as they placed a hand on your knee, before slowly wrapping his arms around you. “I know,” they said comfortingly. “But I think it’s time you realise that you deserve to be loved the same way you loved him.”

You deserve to be loved the same way you loved him.

You didn’t know why that broke you the way it did, why the tears ran like waterfalls at the seemingly obvious but easily forgotten statement. You wanted to give everything for someone who didn’t know how to accept it, and you ended up leaving nothing for yourself. But why? When did this happen? How did this happen? You really were a fool, you thought, running after someone who didn’t turn to look back at you—someone who was running after someone else…

Your friend sighed. “Listen… I was going to leave this off until another time, but I feel like this is the perfect chance to tell you about it.” Your friend pulled out their phone, showing you a screen with… a flight booking? “I was planning this for your birthday, but I think you could use it now more than ever. It will do you some good, to get away and have some time to yourself. What do you think?”

You looked down at the screen of your friend’s phone, your heart racing wildly against your chest. You hadn’t even thought about that before. About leaving behind your problems—about leaving behind Jake… But maybe that was the problem the whole time. You let him become the centre of your world, let him dictate the course that you took. When he needed company, you dropped everything to be there for him. When he needed a place to sleep, you left your apartment door wide open. But when, you wondered, when did he ever do anything like that for you?

When did he ever think of you before he thought about her?

It was fake, you reminded yourself. And it was time you reminded yourself that, before the pain you felt became too real for you to forget.

“I…” you swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring your heart as it tried to hold you back, tried to make you stay for someone who wouldn’t do the same for you. “I want to go.”

It wasn’t easy, deciding to leave. It was only a trip for the holidays, but then after standing before your couch, your heart wringing at the memory of Jake sleeping on it, you realised that perhaps you needed a bit longer to yourself. And so, you called the movers, had them empty out the apartment and scrub it clean, so that not even a speck of dust remained.

You ran a finger across the now bare benchtop, unconsciously touching the vein of a distant memory.

“Do you want tea?” you asked as you stood behind the bench, boiling the teapot while Jake looked around the apartment space like a lost puppy. It was on the first day that he ever visited your place, and your hands shook as you scooped sugar into the mugs you grabbed from the cupboard. You didn’t even notice as Jake snuck up behind you, resting his forehead against your shoulder in a way that made your heart leap out of your chest.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice low. And you didn’t know whether it was for the tea, or for something else, but you found yourself smiling to yourself, because this wasn’t even the least that you would do for him—much less the most. And maybe that was what made it hurt even more in the future, when you realised that he didn’t feel the same.

“Well, I’m ready to head off when you are,” your best friend said, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt– despite the fact that you were travelling to Europe. You laughed at her attire, and was almost shocked at the sound. When was the last time you laughed? That would have been… “Do you have anything else to do?”

You looked down at the keychain that hung from your apartment keys. “Just one,” you said.

“Ooh, look over here!” You smiled and dragged Jake by the wrist, pulling him towards a claw machine just outside an old, worn down convenience store down the street. You got ready to pass him your things, only to be surprised when he grabbed your wrist, stopping you in the middle of slipping your handbag from your shoulder.

“Let me try,” he said, before pulling out his wallet, slipping a coin into the slot. “Okay… Which one should we get?” Your eyes scanned the prizes in the machine, trying to choose one that appealed to you. But it wa difficult to do, considering it was a mystery game—all of the potential prizes were hidden in boxes with question marks around them. So, you simply pointed at whichever one was easiest to get, causing Jake to smile. “Let’s do it.”

It was easy, the way he got the prize. And when he handed it to you, all you could think was that it was the first gift that you would be receiving from him since you got to gether—that it was special, no matter what it was. When you opened the box and shook it, you were surprised to see a small black cat keychain, causing Jake to pout.

“That’s it?” he said. “Sorry, babe, I should have gotten something else…”

But you didn’t mind it at all. It was small, but it meant something to you, because it was from him. But perhaps the gift itself was a foreshadowing of your relationship—a black cat of bad luck, to represent your doomed relationship.

You took the keychain off the keys, before placing it on the bench, leaving it alongside the letter you left for him to read, if he ever came back. At that moment you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Pulling it out, your eyes widened slightly at the name across the screen, your fingers automatically hovering above the answer button. But a last minute sense of control kept you from answering it, instead opting to stare at your phone screen as it continued to ring.

It was Jake.

You bit your lip, before looking back at the letter on the bench. Everything you had to say, you already wrote on the paper. You didn’t want to give yourself any other reason to doubt the decision you made. And so, you turned your phone off, letting the call end on its own after ringing for too long. That was for the best. This was for the best. Maybe not for him, but for you. And it made you promise one thing to yourself: that every bit of love you spent on him, you would now save for yourself, until the day came when you met someone who could return it in full.

note. this was originally going to have a completely different ending, with jake realising he loved reader and running after her, while she accepted him back... but i felt like this ending fit better: reader was going through a stage where she would give up absolutely everything for jake. so happy ending for her is to remove herself from the situation that was hurting her and take the time to heal and find happiness of her own, happiness that doesn't rely one someone else's feelings about her. <3

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen jake x reader #jake x reader #jake imagines #jake fluff #jake angst #jake scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen oneshot #jake x y/n #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #jake x you #jake ff #enhypen ff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen au

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 21 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You toss and turn, of course, utterly unable to sleep.

Your body does not get the memo that it’s a bad idea to fuck a man like John Wick, who is a killer who is holding you prisoner, and refuses to simmer down. You are uncomfortably swollen between your legs, your pussy aching with frustration, and in the wee hours of the morning you are certain you are about to lose your goddamn fucking mind.

 How is he really going to fucking know?

This is the stupid little thought that plays through your tired brain as you writhe beneath the covers, running hands up over your torso, pretending they are his.

Imagining his touch tweaking the sensitive tips of your nipples, his fingers buried inside you, seeking that sensitive place that drives you wild.

Yours are too soft, too small, not long enough or thick enough by half.

You try to trick yourself that it’s his unrelenting touch circling your clit, furious in his claiming of your pleasure as his own…

It’s not enough by half, and the release that washes over you is a paltry consolation at best, a weak pleasure that you know is a sad facsimile of the real thing. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sighing his name, and how has he mind-fucked you so royally in such a short amount of time?

It pisses you off, and in a last act of defiance for the night you flip off the camera high in the corner.

He’s probably not watching anyway. He’s probably asleep, snug in his bed with Dog, the bastard.

Feeling sad and not really sated at all, you curl into a ball and try to finally get some rest. It’s lonely in this big bed all by yourself, and by the time sleep finally claims you your pillow is damp with tears.

-When finally you wake in the morning, you are cold. The covers are down around your waist, and your shoulders ache, your arms at an odd angle out in front of you.

You never sleep like this.

There’s something on your wrists.

You open your eyes, blinking away the blur of sleep. Your vision focuses on something red.

A very neat line of shibari style knots encircles your wrists and half your forearms. They would have been beautiful, in a different setting. Like, not on your body, without your consent.

They’re not so tight to cut off your circulation, but they’re not exactly comfortable either. You strain against the silk rope, and find you can’t budge them.

You are so fucked.

“I warned you.”

John is sitting in the chair in the corner, watching you. He’s wearing all black again, a button down and slacks this time. Looking his best for you, or does he have somewhere to be? It’s not something you would have paid attention to before, but this morning, you can’t help but fixate on the fact that he’s wearing a leather belt.

Because you’re an idiot, you snipe anyway, “Wow, looks like someone earned his merit badge in macramé.”

He just smirks at you, the beautiful bastard.

“I’ve got more than a badge, honey.”

“Very funny. Untie me.”

“You’ll have to earn it, bad girl.”

Your heart skitters around in your chest as you wonder what that means.

He goes on, “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you last night?”

“Guess I assumed you’d be sleeping. It was way past your bedtime.”

He scoffs at the old man dig, leaning forward on his knees, fixing you with that hawkish gaze. “I found out I only sleep well with you in my arms, darling. Wouldn’t that have been nice last night?”

Yes, it would have. However, you just frown at him.

“So, was it worth it?” he pushes.

You sigh, half tempted to tell him how utterly unsatisfying your little session of self-indulgence had been. Rather than answer him, you look at the knots again. They really are beautiful. It makes you think of the book binding shop you’d visited in Florence, and the complicated stitches and knots they used to affix the signatures of pages together.

This man likes binding all kinds of things, it seems.

“Are you hungry?”

Only then do you notice that he has a plate of breakfast foods on the little table beside him. Eggs, toast, and bacon. A little plastic cup that might be water or juice. Your tummy answers with a rumble. Dog did eat your dinner last night, and John never offered you a replacement sandwich. At the time you’d been too worked up about…everything, to care.  

“Maybe.”

He huffs a little laugh at you. “Come here.” He pats his knee, and you realize he wants you to sit on his lap—so he can feed you. A little growl in the back of your throat escapes you, and it only makes his smirk widen.

“God, you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

“I’m not hungry,” you grouse.

You are starving, and you both know it.

“Come. Here.”

There’s that chilling tone of voice again. It does not fail to fill your veins with ice, your heart skipping a beat before skittering irregularly in your chest. You’ve come to understand that it means playtime is over.

You are so fucked.

It is awkward, getting out of the bed with your wrists tied like this. You almost fall on your face, your foot getting tangled in the sheet. From John’s forbidding expression, you don’t think he would have caught you from hitting the floor this time.

You are still only dressed in the thin nightie, and the air is cold on your skin. Your nipples tighten, forming sharp peaks beneath the fabric, the silk lending agonizing friction that makes you want to press your thighs to relieve some of the sudden ache between them.

Last night so did not help you with this problem, and John’s eyes fixating on them does not help either, and you wonder if you’ll be in trouble when you stain his neat looking pants leg with your slick after sitting on him.

“Come here,” he says again, his tone much gentler this time.

Defeated, you shuffle forward, letting him guide you to perch on his knee with a hand on your hip. You barely manage to suppress a shudder as possessively his hand slides just under your skirt, resting on the warm pillow of your thigh. His long fingers are so close to your center, but he makes no move, letting you stew in it.

Bastard.

Only then do you turn to look at him, finding his gaze fixed on your face. “Good morning.”

When you say nothing in return he lifts one eyebrow, and you swear, this man will be the death of you out of frustration alone.

“Good morning,” you finally return, hating the meek timbre of your tone.

“Do you like scrambled eggs?” You nod, and he scoops up a forkful. You notice the fork is plastic, and you wonder if its for your safety, or for his.

He’s clearly never seen Hot Tub Time Machine.

“I would have taken you to breakfast in Venice, but someone had to run away.”

“Well, someone was an insufferable prig the night before,” you return primly, wondering what punishment this will earn you, unable to stop yourself from saying it anyway. He actually smirks at this, though his grip tightens a bit in warning on your thigh. Not enough to hurt, but oh.

You are definitely leaving a wet spot on his trousers, and you hate yourself a little more for it.

You finish your breakfast bite by bite like the good girl you’re apparently not. It was good, if not the weirdest seating arrangement you’ve ever endured. You tremble inside, as you wonder what he has in mind for you next, now that your energy is up and you are trussed like a holiday goose for his pleasure.

You couldn’t be more surprised, than when he deposits you on the bed, kisses your cheek, and bids you, “Have a nice day, sweetie.”

“Wait!” you exclaim, whirling as he is already halfway to the door, swinging his suit jacket about his broad shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

You hate it, that hearing this fills you with panic. “Are you coming back?”

“Do you want me to come back?” There is a dangerous glitter in those dark eyes, and you know that is a question loaded with fourteen in the clip and one in the chamber.

You decide on, “I want you to untie me.” Holding up your wrists as exhibit A.

He shrugs a little, and you know that was not the answer he wanted. “Maybe later.” Then he sweeps out of the room, leaving you staring dumbfounded at the door where he’d just been. The man is like a fucking ghost.  

“Bastard!”

You hope he hears you, but you suspect the epithet falls on deaf ears.

-Your first order of business, of course, is trying to undo these beautiful fucking knots. Unfortunately for you, they are tight, and secure, and John was smart enough to make the finishing hitch with the end tails on the opposite side of your wrist where you cannot easily reach them with your teeth.

Sonofabitch.

If he’d left you Dog for company you could have enlisted the pooch’s formidable chompers, perhaps, but no dice on that one.

Fine.

You sit under the covers for a while, because you’re cold. You try to read, but it is infuriatingly difficult to turn the pages of a book and read comfortably with your hands like this.

You are certain lunch time comes and goes, without a peep out of John.

Did he actually leave you?

You hate it, how the thought makes a trill of panic vibrate in your chest.

Fine. It’s fucking fine.

He thinks he can break you with alone time? You? You are the Queen of Introversion. You can go for days without human interaction, happily, so long as you have a sketchbook or a book. Bring it on, Mr. Wick.

He left you the water cup with the straw, and boy is that an adventure to refill in the bathroom when you’re thirsty.

Going pee without making a mess is no small feat either.

You pace the room, just to get some exercise. You look out the window, watching the birds in the trees.

You laugh to yourself, banging your head against the bulletproof glass. How funny, that you’d once fancied yourself Jane Eyre, when it turned out you were destined to be Mad Bertha locked up in the attic by Rochester all along.  

You hate to admit it, but by the time the sun is starting to set behind the trees you are going stir crazy with wondering where the fuck he is.

It’s definitely not because you miss him.

It’s just…these fucking ropes, of course. It’s not those burning dark eyes, or those large sure hands, or that sturdy long body he likes to press to yours. It’s not that the silence of the room feels empty without his deep voice, even if he’s using it to taunt you.

It is late by the time you hear the locks on the door whir, and you have been sitting in your nest in bed feeling listless and way too sorry for yourself. You are half out of your mind with boredom, and your shoulders and elbows ache at the joints from the restraints at your wrist. You try not to show it, but you are ready to climb up the fucking walls.

Like he might have some inkling of this, John pays you a knowing smile, assuming his seat with the confidence of a king in his throne room. He snaps and pats his thigh, no words this time, expecting you to obey.

Someday, you are going to make him pay for this.

But now…there’s nothing for it but to play his twisted game.

He’s prepared some kind of stir-fry tonight, with vegetables, beef, and rice. You are starving by now, and it smells heavenly.

Again, the food is good, simple but filling. He feeds you forkful by forkful with a careful tenderness that could make you weep. Your time with John is like a game of Russian Roulette. Spin the wheel, which John shall you receive this minute?

It’s easy to hate Mean John. Insufferable Ass Hat John, could drive you to murder. But Sweet John? You would do anything, for Sweet John, and you’re afraid he knows it too.

It’s only been a day, really. Is that right? A day? And already, you feel yourself slipping into the mould he’s fashioned for you.

Perhaps in a knee-jerk attempt to counter this, you ask, “Did you used to play this game with Helen?”

He freezes with the fork halfway to your lips, his hand underneath your skirt with his dead wife’s name in your mouth.  

You meant to throw him off, but as far as you can tell, all it earns you is a scoff. “No.”

“Why not?”

He actually seems to consider your question, toying with the food again, re-loading the fork with a different bite. “I was never afraid she would leave me. Funny, how that worked out.”

You feel like he’s handed you an important piece of information. Emboldened by his quietness, you dare push, “And…what do you think she’d think, about what you’re doing to me now?”

“I’d say she lost her vote, when she left me.” The indifference is gone; this is delivered with a stinging bitterness, and you realize he blames her for leaving him. There’s a clue in this too, and you feel like the solution to all this is an illusive thing hovering just barely out of your grasp. If you can find just the right words, push just the right buttons…maybe you can bring him back to sanity?

“She never would have left you on purpose, John. She got sick. You’ve got to forgive her.”

And accept you can’t control everyone around you. Then preferably, untie me! motherfucker.

The only indication he gives that you’ve upset him is the tightening of his fingers digging into your thigh. You’re going to have bruises, but if he’s actually processing what you’re saying, it’s a price you’ll gladly pay.

He just continues to push the medley of food around on the plate, shaking his head in silence. Disappointed in his nonreaction to your question, you sullenly accept the next bite.

Three seconds later, your mouth is on fire.

You squeal with panic, leaning for the plate to spit it out. But John’s big hand clamps over your mouth, a hard glint in his eyes, and you know you’re going to have to swallow it. It takes three tries, but you manage, tears streaming from the corner of your eyes.

You can do moderately spicy food, but that was just fucking diabolical.

“What the fuck?” you hiss between coughs.

“I knew you’d have something smart to say tonight.”

You try to reach for the water cup with its stupid little straw and your stupidly bound-together hands, but John sets it out of reach. “Oh my god, please?”

He speaks calmly, as though the lining of your mouth is not being eaten away like you took a bite of rice laced with battery acid. “You keep speaking about Helen like you knew her. I suggest you cut it out. Unless you would like all your meals seasoned like this.”

You blow a long breath of air over your tongue. It only sort of helps.

Mother. Fucker.

You glare daggers, but for now, you’re wise enough (broken enough?) to keep your epithets to yourself.

He sits back in the chair to regard you, tossing the fork into what’s left on the plate. You’re still hungry, but you’ll be damned if you eat anymore from that dish. You flinch as he reaches for you, though he is not cruel as he grips your hair at the base of your head. Just…exacting, and he guides you to perch on the edge of the chair between his legs, your bare ass fitted against his crotch.

It feels good as he starts to braid your hair, a jarring contrast to the pain still simmering in your mouth. You whimper a little, despite yourself, arching into him behind you. You didn’t even mean to, really, but it wins you a low groan that fills you with forbidden warmth.

This is so fucked.

Nothing you’ve experienced in your life has prepared you for handling this.

When he finishes he wraps the new handle of your plaited hair in his fist, pulling you back against his chest. He is warm, and solid, and you fail royally as you try not to enjoy this contact. It’s ridiculous, but all you really want is for him to hold you.

He speaks against the shell of your ear, his other hand lightly encircling your throat. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

Your heart drums frantically in your chest; he means business. You can just tell, there is an unyielding hardness in his tone that somehow wasn’t quite there before. You thought you could reason with this man, but maybe you were wrong, or maybe you only succeeded in pushing his sanity the other way, further into the red.

Maybe there’s nothing left to reason with, and that is the thing that finally, truly scares you.

“Maybe you need something else to fill up that sassy mouth.”

With his improvised handle he guides you down to sit between his splayed legs. Your eyes are drawn to the newly erected tent in his pants, that formidable bulge that should be the stuff of your nightmares, but still inspires a maddening longing inside you.

Why do you have to feel so empty, when he’s near?

Frustrated by the unfairness of it all, you glare daggers up at him. You know what he’s angling to extort out of you, of course. It makes you sad, but not for the reason he might have expected. It makes you sad, because you would have rubbed your knees raw sucking him off, if he’d just asked you nicely.

“Thanks, but I’m full.”

He snorts at that. “Yeah? Someone doesn’t want her hands untied that badly.”

Now, that is something you want, and maybe you’re willing to play with that on the table. You’ve never thought of yourself as someone who is easily led, but he is good at manipulating you. It makes you wonder if any of it was ever real, or if this is just a game he’s been playing with you from day one.

The thought makes you sigh, and you rest your cheek on his lean thigh, closing your eyes.

He looks down at you like you’re a puzzle he’s not quite sure how to solve.

Welcome to the club, Mr. Wick.

“Were you planning this all along?” you ask. “When you were so sweet to me? Am I that fucking stupid that I didn’t see this coming?” Obviously, from the clothes in the closet, he’d hoped you’d come stay with him at some point, but all the rest? It feels spontaneous, like the way something hard can suddenly crack with too much pressure. But then again, maybe just because it took you by such fucking surprise.

He strokes your hair, and that gentle touch just makes it worse somehow. You feel the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes, because that gentleness is all you wanted from him. The ironic part is that he wouldn’t have had to do any of this shit, just to keep you.

You do not love easily, but once you do…it is a total, and all-consuming thing.

“I don’t know,” he answers begrudgingly. “I just…couldn’t let you leave me.”

You think about how he’d been an orphan. He’d lost his parents. He’d lost his wife. He’d lost his dog. He’d gone on a rampage and slaughtered an entire Russian Bratva…for the loss of a dog.

In perspective you guess he’d actually behaved rather tamely, at the threat of losing you. This man does nothing by halves, and the only thing John Wick fears, it seems, is losing those he loves.

Is that what he’d meant, when he said his love was a curse?

It doesn’t excuse it, but there is a key somewhere in that, you reason. A key to freedom, or the gates of Hell, you’re not really sure.

You do your best to blink away your tears. Maybe it’s stupid, because you’re not half as tough as he is, but you don’t really want him to see you cry.

He lets you sit like that for as long as you want, stroking your hair. It’s almost sweet, and it gives you time to collect yourself.

Someday, he’s going to figure out it’s best not to give you a chance to plot your next move. It occurs to you that maybe you have one last card to play.

You sit up slowly on your knees between his legs, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze weighing upon your skin. You reach for his belt, brushing his erection through his pants, his manhood twitching in anticipation. For just a second, he allows himself to close his eyes.  

Maybe you have power too. You just have to figure out how to use it here, and maybe not lose you mind over how thick and wonderful he just felt beneath your hand. That unhelpful pulsing between your legs casts its vote. You try to unobtrusively squeeze your thighs for some relief, but you fear this man sees everything.  

Good for you, that your voice sounds almost steady. “I have to say, you’re a brave man, Mr. Wick.”

It is not easy to work the buckle of his belt with your hands bound like this, but somehow you manage, even pulling it from its loops. You fight the urge to throw the damn thing across the room, but settle for resting it at his feet.

“How do you figure?”

“Well...” You flip open the top button of his pants, your fingers shaking slightly. “If we are engaging in that time-honored exchange of a favor for a blowjob... and you just essentially carpet bombed my mouth with napalm...wow, you do like to live dangerously.”

He sits still as a statue for a good few moments, weighing what you’re telling him, gauging if the capsaicin would transfer through your saliva to what is arguably the most sensitive area of his body. You’re 98 percent certain they would, and a part of you hopes he’ll opt to try it even after you warn him.

It would make for a neat little slice of revenge.

But then, what you really want is out of these ropes, and you hope your honesty will win you some points with him.

In the end he catches your hands, as you are awkwardly trying to work his zipper.

“Maybe we'll skip that for now.”

“You sure? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

He narrows his eyes down at you, and you wonder if you’re inventing it, or is there a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes?

“In my other pants.” 

In the end he pulls you back up into his lap with a grumble.

You suspect you’ve only delayed the inevitable, but you feel some satisfaction for your little coup.

“I’ll be back,” he tells you, (threatens you?), depositing you on the bed, gathering the dishes and sweeping out of the room. You have a feeling this interaction was not half as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.

Well, good.

Bastard.

-When he returns, he brings you a cup of milk. Though most of the pain from the chilis has already subsided by now, you accept it for the calorie count if anything.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a hand on your cheek, looking you over appraisingly.

Thinking this might be your best moment, you lift your bound hands with a pitiful pout, blinking your eyelashes innocently.

“Will you untie me now?” you ask in your sweetest tone, words loaded with contrition.  

“You think you’ve earned it?” he asks, and you sense this is a perilous path you’re approaching.

“I’ve been good.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on. I mouthed off. You punished me. You had your fun. And rather than give in to my initial vindictive impulses, I saved you from a very uncomfortable evening. It’s the least you can do.”

He actually chuckles at this, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He seems softened by your bright little tirade, but then this man’s mood can change on a dime.

“And, it’s starting to hurt,” you add.

It’s not a lie, and it seems that is the thing that makes him pause.

“You don’t like my knot work?”

Your heart lodges in your throat, and you know you must proceed with caution, or you’ll be wearing this shit for a week at least.

“Your knots are very fine, Mr. Wick.”

Your captor practically purrs at hearing that, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest, his hand burying in your hair. It sends a tingling thrill all across your scalp.

You’ve come to reluctantly love his fixation with grabbing your mane.

You really are losing your mind.

“I’ll make you a deal, kitten.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll untie you…if you will take a bath with me.” His tone is the low rumble of a jungle cat, and your heart leaps into your throat. You knew this was coming, eventually. Maybe you just didn’t expect it tonight.

Looking back, you’re not sure why.

“NowI get to see you?”

You are still puzzling over the way he’d outright prevented you from undressing him, in Venice. It was almost like he’d been afraid, and you don’t understand at all. He’s fucking gorgeous, and you’re pretty sure he knows it. So…why?

“I told you, you weren’t ready then.”

You suspect the real answer is that he wasn’t ready, but for once, you don’t contradict him.

He runs a finger down the line of his neat knots that are starting to bite into your flesh. It’s starting to affect the feeling in your fingers, and you know that can’t be good.

“So? What do you say?”

You crane your neck to look up at him, drinking in the lines of his handsome face, his straight nose and proud lips, and the delicately drawn sweep of his eyes. Even with the shadow of a black eye, courtesy of you, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. You shouldn’t want him, after everything he’s done to you. You shouldn’t, but you feel yourself inevitably drawn to him, like the moon pulls the tide.

You feel like you’re signing a piece of your soul away to the devil on the dotted line, when at last you nod.

He puts a hand to his ear with a smirk. “What was that?”

Your groan comes out like a growl.

“You have a deal, Mr. Wick, sir.”

His low rumble of approval gives you chills, and when he turns your face up to kiss you sweetly you utterly melt beneath his hands, jarred by the contrast from earlier, but not questioning it. You bask in the press of his soft lips, greedy for his tenderness, hoping stupidly that this is the way things will be from now on. Then you yelp with surprise as suddenly he scoops you up with his hands on your thighs, carrying you into the bathroom.  

#please enjoy this absolute chonk of a chapter #you guys have earned it! #i loooove you!!!! #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick x you #yandere john wick #yandere

[akutasoda]

my eternity

synopsis - maybe an eternity couldn't last forever, especially when it's worlds apart

includes - dan heng ft express crew

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based off raiden shogun (genshin), bittersweet angst, fluff, some comfort, two socially awkward people try to express feelings, wc - 2.7k

a/n: this was requested by @supernerdycookietrashblrr! sorry this took so long hope you enoy! (i got very carried away)

you were the designated 'protector' and leader of your homeland. one filled with many traditions and people from all walks of life, but none had the knowledge to know that you were rarely actually there. in fact, the place you preferred to call your home was one you fashioned yourself, the plane of euthymia.

it was where your consciousness and physical body existed in hopes of achieving the eternity you yearned for. and in your place roamed a puppet. a puppet in your image that ruled your land for you, one that could not age or be weakened and therefore the most efficient way of ruling.

however, sometimes the endless sky in the plane of euthymia became tormenting, rather tiring and that's when you ventured outside the realm. most of the time, you'd enter in the place of your puppet who then was placed inside the plane - switching places until you got bored of the real world again.

however things seemed amiss this time. something in the plane shifted the wrong way, and because the plane was practically made from your conscience it burdened your mind and ruined any train of thought you may of had. your initial thought was that something must of happened outside of the plane and so you would leave to investigate.

but instead of being greeted by the scenery of your homeland, you found yourself within a library? it had the smell of old books and such but it really paled in looks. it was rather odd looking but the most questionable part was if you looked down and noticed the bundle of blankets and pillows.

for obvious reasons you were on edge. so as you cautiosly approached what you assumed to be the door out, it opened. and in having no time to draw your actual sword, you settled for the easier option. in mere matter of seconds, your polearm ghosted the side of a dark haired males neck.

the express was currently docked at the space station. himeko insited on doing a basic maintenance check after encountering a rather rough journey and dragged welt along for assistance. march had claimed to go for a walk to 'stretch her legs'. and so dan heng remained alone with the conductor who seemed awfully chatty about the most recent voyage.

so when an abrupt noise occurred - seemingly from the passenger cabins - pom pom practically shoved dan heng toward it and shut the door behind him until he found the answer. they were always scared easily. dan heng didn't expect much at first - perhaps something had fallen over somewhere. but he would have to see out his endeavour in 'keeping the conductor safe' regardless.

but it became a bit more alarming when he heard faint, rather slow, footsteps originating from the archives. perhaps it was one of the ghosts pom pom always claimed to see but did they even make footsteps?

warily he walked towards the archives, and when he finally pushed aside the door, the last thing he expected was the edge of a polearm immediately being raised to his throat. he caught your eyes rather quickly and felt rather intimidated by the sheer power you seemed to hold.

but what caught you off guard was when your polearm was violently shoved aside by the his own. he hadn't quite deemed you a threat yet, but first impressions weren't putting you in good favour. he moved forward with his own skill, trying to push you into a situation of hesitation - that way he figured answers may be more likely.

but he seemed to underestimate just how much skill you had because with one quick movement not only had you dodged his attack but yet again held him in a unfortunate circumstance. but before a word could even be spoken you felt a few pairs of eyes bearing into the back of your head.

'the conductor informed us that something was amiss', it was a rather low voice, one that suggested age and he continued 'drop the weapon and release our crewmate'. you let yourself up with little hesitation, in yet another quick move you turned and pushed the person you were holding to his friends, supposedly.

you could now see exactly who was confronting you know, an older man with glasses, a younger woman with striking red hair and a rabbit? 'whats everyone doing down here?' a rather cheery voice called out as footsteps became louder but before they could answer the newly arriving pinkette, you spoke.

you weren't one for combat surprisingly. sure you'd engage in it and if something wished to make you their enemy you'd gladly diminish their hopes of living. but you were wise to not resort to unnecessary violence, unless you really had to. and so you explained you meant no harm, you simply were startled by your abrupt arrival by no knowledge of your own - you also didn't like sharing.

you were met with the group opposites collective look of confusion before the red haired woman spoke. 'you have no recollection of how you got here? my, that's tricky' she paused before looking around 'why don't we talk elsewhere, please follow'.

you oblidged and followed the cautious group into a more open room. it seemed to contain a communal seating area which the woman insisted you sat down upon. she smiled before addressing you again and asking for your name. you felt no obligation to tell complete strangers your name, so instead you told them your puppets.

the conversation became rather one sided after that. the woman, you know knew as himeko, lead it with the man, welt, occasionally chiming in. you weren't one to share information, let alone to complete strangers and so the only information that you let them know was your puppets name (which they thought was your actual name) and that you aren't from here.

and unfortunately for you, that was most of the information they needed. between most of them they could easily figure out that something had happened to bring you into their world and somehow you needed to get back, however no body had a clue how to do so. after all the universe is vast and perhaps endless - but that meant it would contain the answers.

himeko dismissed herself and the others claiming they needed to discuss something before leaving you alone in the room. your briefly considered trying to enter your plane of euthymia and exiting again but two things stopped you - one, it may just bring you back and two, if your puppet was still in your homeland then atleast until you could get back, things wouldn't seem amiss to your residents.

and while you were thinking, the group re-entered. himeko yet again smiled before saying 'while we may not been a great help now, should you choose to join us, you can travel with us and perhaps have better luck in returning', she glanced over toward dan heng and nodding before turning back 'we are all perfectly fine with whatever decision you come to, but to note that it was him who suggested this in the first place'.

you glanced over to dan heng and he looked away, only looking back when you turned back to himeko. you couldn't help that agree that your chances of returning home would probably increase if you joined them and besides, you didn't have to form any connections with them in you did.

you weren't exactly the friendliest but it was for your own reasons. so you agreed. while you weren't exactly the most friendly and approachable person, you figured that your best chance on returning home would be to travel with these people, and they never said you would actually have to become their companion.

the only condition himeko explained to you was that because they travelled to help those that need it, if the occasion should arise then you should help them. she would also note that you probably have no issue in conflicts due to your unfortunate first encounter. which you found fair afterall, an eye for an eye.

it was safe to say that the atmosphere became rather uncomfortable to start with. himeko and the conductor granted you a spare passenger cabin until otherwise and that's where you spent most of your time. occasionally himeko or march would come and try to get to know you better but ultimately be met with a wall of silence.

however something you found valuable you heard from march was that the archives were accessible to all passengers. knowledge is proof of eternity, all things that have come before recorded down and passed along. so you decided to maybe spend some time exploring such archives.

however what you didn't really anticipate was how different the information seemed to be stored as. in your homeland everything was stored through scrolls and books or even word of mouth. but it all seemed so much more mechanical and modern. fortunately for you, in your confusion dan heng decided to return to his room.

you two hadn't talked at all since the day you arrived, so reasonably there was a bit of tension in the air. however dan heng could pick up on your confusion and pushed aside any awkward air to ask if everything was alright. you simply claimed that you were a bit confused by the archive.

'would you like some assistance?', the words came out his mouth before he could even process them, but you simply nodded and before he knew it he found himself beside you showing you all the records and such he kept organised.

you thanked him and excused yourself as you realised how long you had actually spent in the archives. he nodded before adding that you were free to visit anytime and then you left.

you didn't really sleep. you either didn't bother as in your search for eternity you didn't want to indulge in such trivial matters or you were on edge. this time, sleeping didn't really appeal to you as sleeping knowing people you barely knew surrounded you was unpleasant.

so you decided to re visit the archives. you found exploring this new world may be beneficial to your return and plus you could decide if it would be a enemy to eternity. so as you pushed open the door, you walked in and carefully closed it behind you as too not wake the other residents.

but whag you hadn't anticipated was that odd bundle of blankets and pillows now supported a body. upon squinting your eyes you recognized ot as dan heng, maybe you should return in the morning-

dan heng shot up and immediately pressed a hand to his head to wipe away any sweat he had. it was another nightmare, he didn't know why he bothered to try and sleep when that was all that tormented him. he raised his hand infront of himself trying to stop the shaking and level his breathing, then he looked to you.

his brain only recognizing your presence when he calmed down slightly. he simply said 'couldn't sleep well? or is there something you need?', he shoveled the think blanket of himself as he shakily stood up. you were no fool and knew he didn't want to talk about whatever gave him such a reaction so you simply shrugged and said you couldn't sleep.

he sat in front of the main screen and looked behind at you before saying 'wan't to read some old logs with me?'. well that was what you were here to do originally so you walked over and sat beside him. you two spent the rest of the night having dan heng recount the tales of the express and all the various logs added.

and before either of you knew it, it was morning. time seemed to pass quicker than usual afterwards however. you spent more time with dan heng and found yourself reluctantly letting him get closer to you than you would've liked and it appeared he felt the same. unfortunately neither of you wanted to push the other way despite your body screaming that this was a bad idea.

you both knew that as well. sooner or later you would have to return to your homeland. the bond that was forging would be cut short and mercilessly and you both would become yet another memory for eachother. yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop it now before it could hurt either of you.

but it seemed time would be cut ever shorter for you. the express crew still had no leads on how to return you to your original realm but answers needed to come quick. your body wasn't reacting well to being outside the plane for this long - you had spent so long inside the plane of euthymia that your body adapted to its conditions.

but maybe the new universe was also taking a toll, you felt no longer like yourself and sometimes during the day your body would practically seize and you felt like a spectator to your own body, not the host. and the crew recognised this deteriorating condition - also chalking it up to long exposure to somewhere that wasn't your homeland.

and before any more tries to find answers could happen, you worsened even more. your body began aching and you really couldn't control your actions so you tried a last resort tactic. you placed yourself back inside of the plane of euthymia and could immediately regain control of your body.

but relief became confusion as you hear march's scream from behind you, turning round to see that you had accidentally brought the express crew into your plane aswell. you wanted to explain and help them back out into the express but the presence of your puppet became your biggest concern.

you turned round to confront your puppet and before you knew it the express crew had stood beside you. your lack if sharing now put them in danger and despite this they offered help. from your body language and maybe the polearm in your hand they could tell what you were going to do.

but you refused help, it was your puppet after all. you created it and so you knew it's weaknesses, this shouldn't become an issue. except it did. the express, especially dan heng, could only watch despite wanting to help as you fought with yourself.

but now you were slowly losing the rational parts of your brain, but before you knew it you had defeated your puppet. but your bodyy seemed to know possess a body of it's own as you became something that was not quite yourself, deciding for you that the express members were enemies of eternity.

you didn't mean to attack them, and they didn't mean to attack back. they wanted to help you desperately - despite your lack of interaction with most they still came to cherish you as the temporary addition to their little family. even if you didn't share, they didn't care. but now they wished you did share more often.

the fight was exhausting for both parties. you wanted to stop, to npt destroy the companions you reluctantly built over the time you'd spent with them but your mind and body weren't cooperating. and dan heng wanted to help you more than ever.

and because he hadn't pushed you away, he hadn't refused himself entirely in building a bond with you he knew how to help. he ignored the shouts for him to stay back as he had faith you wouldn't hurt him. he knew that you were still in there and he'd be dammned should he not help.

you fought so hard to not attack him. to not damage yet another relationship you had built and instead let him get ever closer. and even now as your body fell back to its original state, you could grasp why you subconsciously let him get closer even if you knew he'd leave eventually. because now you still had no way home. and as dan heng laid his head upon your shoulder, you could only think on why you shouldn't indulge in this comfort a little longer, even if this eternity was not possible.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail dan heng #dan heng x reader

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: More than a Dream

The Bad Batch is finally enjoying some more downtime and even some relaxation after the return of Omega and someone else unexpected.  You feel like you're caught in another dream.

Word Count: 1,209

Warnings: Some angst, comfort, Season 3: Episode 5 Spoilers

Can Be Read as Sequel to: In My Dreams

“Why are you crying?” A thin, raspy voice asked.  It only made the tears fall faster as you shielded your eyes from the waking dream beside you that sat up and gently leaned over you in comfort.

You’d been plagued by false hope too many times before.  You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes in the dark.

You curled up on the soft bedroll as you focused on the sounds of the room.

The ocean waves softly whooshing in the distance outside your open window.  Nocturnal insects were chirring to their heart’s content as they did every night.  A warm breeze tickled your skin and ruffled the curtains draped on either side of the window. 

If not for the continued presence that you felt beside you, you’d think you were beginning to wake from the bittersweet vision.  But he remained.

“I had another dream,” You answered finally.  “It’s…I wanted it to be real.”

There was a pause before the familiar voice continued.  “What was it about?”

“Omega came back safe and sound, and so did you.  You finally returned to us-” The sentence was cut off by a sorrowful sob.  You curled up, trying your very best to stifle it.  A hand curled over your shoulder, drawing you closer to the figure.

“Shh,” he hushed next to your ear.  “It was real.  I’m here.”

You relaxed against his clothed chest and allowed yourself the comfort.  As much as these dreams played your heartstrings like a seven-string hallikset, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. So, you clung to the fleeting moment and waited for it to fade into the night like they did every time.

Except it didn’t.  Precious seconds turned into minutes.  The minutes pushed on until you realized that he wasn’t going to fade.  Not this time. 

You dared yourself to look up.  Just one glimpse…

The first thing you saw was moonlight pouring into the room, covering everything in a lovely haze of silver.

And there he was, propping himself up beside you on one elbow while the other arm draped over your form.  His chin was lifted as his gaze was directed to the scene outside the window.  Your eyes followed the line of his jaw, pausing at his cheekbones, and wandered down the slope of his nose to his lips- admiring the shadows that the moon of Pabu cast on his face.

All at once, the memories came rushing back.

You remembered so vividly the moment Omega jumped into your arms after being lost to the Empire for several months.  You recalled the way your heart jumped for joy at her return and the fact that she was safe and sound.

You remembered the way you froze up completely at the sight of him.  Omega’s sheepish tone and Hunter’s suspicious gaze were lost to you as you stared Crosshair down from across the way.  No words came to you for some time.  It seemed to be the same with him.  The two of you spent the entire journey across space in that ship speechless toward each other, only communicating with odd stares.

You weren’t sure how you felt at first.  Of course, you were shocked by his return.  Confused.  And there was still anger toward him for betraying the squad, for betraying his family, for betraying you.

Somewhere along the line, it was just the anger that remained. The odd stares turned into cold ones on your end.  He didn’t return them.  He’d only met your gaze with a sort of prickly silence.

Then there was last evening when the tension finally snapped.  You’d ditched the silent treatment and instead opted for a shouting match; except, it was only you shouting, and him replying through clenched teeth.

Finally, when you’d spent your energy, you exhaled.

He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable.  He wasn’t asking for anything, period.  Crosshair had been a big part of helping Omega escape, and the kid had spent plenty of time trying to vouch for him to you and the rest of the squad.

The man before you had been severely humbled.  He’d changed, and it was written all over his face.  When you finally began to accept it, that’s when the tears came. There wasn’t just anger: there was hurt.  There was longing.

Crosshair pulled you into an embrace, and you cried into his shoulder.

You recalled your quiet, pathetic plea for him to stay.  You recalled the way he held you tighter, and how before you knew it, you both had curled up on your bedroll together, drifting off to sleep. 

And now, in the late hours of the night, you realized that it was indeed real.  It was truly Crosshair beside you, warm and safe.  His eyes were no longer gazing out at the moon, but instead locked on yours.  His mouth formed a frown as he saw the tears that had begun to well up in yours again.

“I thought it was another dream,” you cried.

 His hand reached up to stroke your cheek as he hushed you again gently.  “You don’t want to wake anyone.”

You gave a nod and buried your face into his shoulder.

“Hunter wouldn’t be so pleased to find me in your room,” he continued, petting your hair.

His comment nearly gave you a chill.  The thought of Hunter finding the two of you there, giving Crosshair that glare of utter distrust and fury and you the weighty gaze of disappointment was not something you wanted to experience.

“He still doesn’t trust me.”

“It’ll take time,” you murmured, voice muffled in his shirt.

“I know.  This wouldn’t exactly be a step in the right direction.  It’s bad enough that the kid can’t seem to stay away from me.”

“Omega sees something in you.”  You sighed sleepily, as a wave of exhaustion hit you.  “And so do I.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and the sounds of the night came to the forefront of your mind again as you began to drift back to sleep.  Crosshair’s breathing and his heartbeat were your lullaby.

Somewhere between the waking world, and your dreams, you thought you heard him utter,

“I don’t deserve it...”

- - - -

The next morning, you awoke to brilliant sunlight in your eyes.  In the heat of morning, you’d kicked your blanket off.  Reaching over to pull it back, you realized that the presence beside you was no longer there.

For just a split second, your heart plummeted.  The question of whether it was all just a dream arose once more, and you found yourself standing there on your feet and staring at the bedroll.

“No, it was definitely real,” you said aloud.  Relief flooded you as you fully woke up and went over last night’s conversation in your head.

As if timed to perfection, you heard the zoom of blaster fire.  It was a single shot, which was that of a sniper rifle.  You headed over to the window, trying to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight.  You squinted to see a familiar figure clad in gray and red down by the beach, taking aim at a target.

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched him fire again.

It was the start of a new day.

#the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch crosshair #star wars the bad batch #crosshair #bad batch season 3 #bad batch fanfiction #bad batch x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair reader insert #bad batch reader insert #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars reader insert #tbb #tbb fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone force 99 #clone force 99 fanfiction

[reina-writes]

LATE NIGHT CALLS. Pedro Pascal x reader [Hi, it's me -series, #1]

Summary: Pedro sends a reassuring voice message to you, showing that sometimes it's not about what you say but how you say it.

Characters: Pedro Pascal x reader Warnings: None really. Pedro being sweet, mention of reader having a bit rough day. A/N: This is a short fanfic, being part of my "Hi, it's me" -series with Pedro, collection of simple, short fanfics. This series with short fanfics is inspired after having a dream about Pedro leaving a comforting voice message. I wanted to explore more his character and improve my own writing. I usually don't write anything with a real person, but this time I made an expectation. Pedro is so sweet. I will ensure that the fanfic remains tasteful and respectful towards the real person. Part 2: MISSED CALL.

**********

It was late at night, and Pedro was sitting alone in his hotel room. He had just finished a long day of interviews and promotional events, and he was feeling exhausted. But despite his weariness, there was one thing on his mind that he couldn't ignore: you.

He missed you so much it hurt. You had been friends for a while now, and there was a mutual attraction, but you had never taken the next step into dating. Pedro respected your wishes and didn't want to push you into anything that you weren't ready for, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his feelings to himself.

As he lay in bed, scrolling through his phone to check what he had missed during the work, he saw you had sent him a voice message earlier. As Pedro listened to the voice message, he couldn't help but smile at the sound of your voice. He closed his eyes, picturing you.

"Hi Pedro, it’s me! How's everything going with your work? I hope you're doing great. I miss you and can't wait for you to be back home. Movie nights aren’t the same without you.”

You sounded cheerful, but he could tell there was an attempt to mask the weariness in your words.

“Uh… Life's been a bit tough lately, feeling like I'm being pulled in every direction. I really could use your shoulder to lean on and have a good cry. And after that, maybe a bottle of wine? Haha, sorry for venting, I'm just a little bit exhausted."

Your laughter was bittersweet, a mixture of genuine amusement and a hint of vulnerability. Pedro's heart ached at the thought of your struggling, wanting to be there to comfort you.

“Anyway, I know you’re busy. Just remember to rest whenever you have a chance, okay? Sending you hugs and kisses. I miss you. Bye!"

Pedro took a deep breath, composing himself before recording his response. He knew you would be already sleeping – or at least he hoped you would be sleeping because a goodnight sleep hopefully would make you feel better.

"Hey, it's me," he began, his voice soft and gentle. "I’m sorry for answering this late, I just got back to the hotel. I heard your message, and I want you to know that I'm thinking of you and that I'm here for you, baby.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He wanted to say so much more, but he didn't want to risk scaring you off.

“I know things have been tough lately, but I want you to know that you're not alone. Whatever you're going through, we'll get through it together. You're strong and capable, and I believe in you”, his voice was filled with warmth and reassurance as he spoke softly into the phone.

“And about that shoulder to lean on and the bottle of wine, well… Consider it a date when I'm back. I'll be there to wipe away your tears and have a bottle of wine with you. And meantime... Remember that I'm just a phone call away.”

Pedro hoped that his words would bring you some comfort, even from a distance. In that moment, he vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to make you feel loved and cherished, no matter the circumstances. 

“I hope you're getting some rest tonight," he continued. "And if you ever need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I'm always here for you, no matter what."

With a sigh, Pedro hit send and put his phone away, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The weight of his unspoken feelings lingered in the air, leaving him to wonder about the future. As he lay in the darkness, thoughts of you consumed his mind. He couldn't help but wonder: would you ever know how much you really meant for him? Would he someday be able to tell you a truth and not just making small hints? The uncertainty tugged at his heart, but deep down, Pedro knew that taking a leap of faith might be worth it. But right now, Pedro wanted nothing more than to be there for you, to support you through the ups and downs of life. One day, he thought, one day. He closed his eyes, holding onto the hope that someday he would be able to express his true feelings. For now, he would cherish the connection you had.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal edit #pedrito #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal is my comfort character #pedro pascal oneshot #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom

[alchemicaladarna]

So like I'm still trying to process everything because mentally I'm like a week late from everything that's been happening so far.

I already made a post about Jaiden leaving the server but I think it's just kind of hitting me now that I'll never get to see qjaiden interact with Empanada or be part of the breakfast village or get an answer about her wings and connection to Cucurucho. And I'll probably watch old clips or vods and just feel really sad that it's over but so glad that it happened.

Because like, do y'all remember that one day before the ice chamber gang joined the server and Cellbit, Foolish, Bad, Jaiden, and I think Roier were just hanging out and spending time together until they got kicked out of the server.

I think the Jaidens' entire adventure is and will always be one of my favorite days too.

Oh! And of course, Festa Junina and Jaiden finding out about Cellbit and Roier and her comforting Roier and subtly threatening Cellbit for breaking his heart.

Not to mention she is literally the most iconic lawyer ever. Like juanaflippa's trial will always be one of the most iconic server moments because of Jaidens' speech. Literally blew everyone away.

And of course... I'll never forget the day Bobby died. That day, that trip to the dungeon is one of the only two times I cried for the lore of this server. Many things make me emotional but seeing qJaiden climb up on the tree alone, watching the sunset and grieving her dead son...fuck man, it felt so real...

There's just so many moments of qJaiden specifically from June to September, that just stick out to me and I'll always look back at them with a bittersweet fondness.

It's been so long since I properly thought about qJaiden, but now everything is coming back to me and man... I'm just...I guess I'm more happy that we got qJaiden and everything she did and was a part of is there to look back on.

For me, even though the qJaiden brainrot wasn't hitting as hard as it used to, I think she will always be a part of the narrative because there was just so many amazing moments with her and I will always be a fan of her lore and this character will always be close to my heart.

Sending nothing but love to Jaiden and the admins. Especially Jaiden. Thank you for letting us experience this wonderful journey <333

#qsmp #qsmp jaiden #jaiden animations #im saying this like a goodbye as if i dont watch her animations at least once a week #but yea its all really bittersweet right now #FUCK its hitting me just how much ill miss qjaiden Oh oh man... #but anyways if you see this feel free to talk about your favorite qJaiden moment/moments #i have so many that im remembering just now and oughhh im gonna start crying if i dont distract myself with smth else

[haziwritesstuff]

My little rose, part 3

"You are meant to be the love of my next life."

Pairing | Aemond and Aegon x reader Wordcount | 4.2k Warnings | Medieval misogyny, Aegon isn't the nicest Previous chapters | Part 1, part 2

You make your way to Dragonstone, landing on the stone steps of the castle. Your family isn't there yet. It's quiet as you approach alone. You feel like you're walking into an empty castle, with nothing but your own footsteps echoing in the vast halls. The air is still and you feel like you're walking through a desert of stone and silence. You find it oddly peaceful and tranquil in a way, despite the solitude. The change in environment was refreshing and cleansing, after the tense atmosphere that you've just exited. You feel like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, a sense of calm and contentment wash over you as you look around at the vast halls and empty rooms.

You find yourself wandering through the gardens, your attention being drawn to the roses as the vivid colors and sweet smells fill the air. You feel your heart skip a beat as you take in the sight of the lush foliage and vibrant petals, and you can't help but feel a jolt of nostalgia. These were the roses that you've always loved, the ones that used to bring you joy and peace when you were a child. Bittersweetness washes over you as you remember those years growing up in solitude, with only Silverwing and the roses for company. You feel like the roses were like your faithful companions, always there to bring you comfort and joy during those times when you felt lonely and isolated. The  roses remind you of those comforting moments of companionship and the bittersweetness you feel is a reflection of the mixture of feelings that those times brought to you. You feel a bit of anger and resentment towards your father for keeping you hidden away from the world for years. You feel like he robbed you of a proper childhood, leaving you alone and isolated with no real friends in your life, he deprived you of so much, he was selfish and callous in his treatment of you. Although you made peace with it, you haven't forgotten it either. You've learned to accept and come to terms with your past, but you haven't let go of the bitterness and resentment that you feel towards Daemon for what he did to you. You've learnt to live with this injustice, but the anger and hurt still remains deep inside your heart.

You've been so deep in thought that you haven't realized someone else has joined you in the gardens. You're startled by Rhaena's sudden appearance and you feel a surge of relief as you realize it was her. "Where have you been? We almost started a search party!” "I'm sorry, I was just..." you stop short, realizing that you don't have an explanation for your absence. You feel like Rhaena's sudden appearance has caught you by surprise and you feel a bit embarrassed to explain why you were away. Rhaena’s staring at you and she’s not willing to let this matter go. There is still more to be said, but there is a certain level of awkwardness and tension and between you two right now. You didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it than it already has been, so you keep your answer brief and simple. "I just flew alone, I wanted some time to be alone with my thoughts..." Rhaena nods her head, seeming to accept your explanation and she doesn't press the issue any further. “So what did you think of King’s Landing? And what did you think of your other family members?” "Well... it was certainly an experience..." you respond nervously, not sure exactly how to answer the question.

“Mmh. Did you manage to fix your issues with Aegon?” You feel a wave of awkwardness wash over you as Rhaena brings up the topic of Aegon. You're not sure what to say, or how you would even begin to explain the situation between the two of you. “Sort of.” You whispered, feeling like you haven't really fully resolved your issues with Aegon. The two of you still have some things to work out, but the tension is not as bad as it was before. Perhaps kissing him wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Rhaena's observant and perceptive, noticing that you're holding something back when you give your answer. You're not sure if you should give more details to her, you wanted to. You wanted to scream that you’ve kissed Aegon, that you hugged Aemond. That you were utterly confused. This was your first ‘experience’ with the other sex and you weren’t sure what to do now. You wanted to tell her everything that’s going on inside your head, but you decided against it.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's been a couple of weeks since you had your experiences with Aegon and Aemond in King's Landing. A lot has happened since then, and things have shifted and changed in your life. Viserys is dead and they have crowned Aegon as King, stealing Rhaenyra’s throne.

"You're going to King's Landing and you're going to give Aegon this.” You are caught off guard by the sudden declaration of your father. You're not sure what he's referring to, but you feel your heart beating faster at the prospect of meeting King Aegon and giving him something. You struggle to contain your anxiety as you look at your father, wondering what he has in mind for you. You're being thrown into a dangerous situation, and you're not sure if you can handle it. There are so many ways this situation could go wrong, you're being pulled into a situation that is bigger than you are ready for. “I don’t think I’m ready… For th-“ his eyes narrow and his voice becomes more demanding. "You must go. It is your duty as my daughter." He stares at you intensely, his eyes sharp and piercing. He's not giving you a choice, you must do his bidding. Daemon's eyes narrow even more as he glares at you. "I am not giving you a choice," he says harshly, "You will go to King's Landing and you will give Aegon this." He leans forward and holds up a small black pouch. "This is the message that I want you to deliver to him. Do you understand?" The intensity of Daemon's gaze leaves you feeling scared and intimidated, as if he's determined to not let you refuse or refuse his demands. You realize that you have no choice but to go, and are left feeling like a pawn in this game of power and politics. “Yes, I understand." you say softly, having no choice but to comply with his orders, since he is your father and you have been raised to obey him. Daemon doesn't respond. Instead, he hands you the small black pouch and begins to walk away, his walk slow and measured.

Daemon's words leave you feeling scared and uncertain about your upcoming trip to King's Landing, where you are expected to deliver a message to the new king. You don't know what the message contains, and you feel a sense of anxiety and unease about the situation, as well as a sense of trepidation about the journey ahead.

It turns out you weren't the only messenger. You learn later that same night that Rhaenys, Jace, and Luke were also sent off with messages of their own. Thinking about the message you're carrying, you can't help but wonder what it could be. It's a heavy burden, with your life potentially hanging in the balance. Every step you take on the road to King's Landing is a step closer to danger and potential confrontation with the new ‘king’. The gravity of the situation suddenly sinks in, and you feel like you're walking into the unknown. Aegon wouldn’t hurt you, would he?

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It's a long journey to King's Landing, but after countless hours of flight, you finally make it to the city. You land in one of the city's landing spots, feeling both relieved and exhausted as you finally made it. That sense of relief and exhaustion is quickly replaced with a sense of anxiety and uncertainty as you realize that you still have the task left: to deliver the message to the new King, Aegon II.

You make your way to the castle in King's Landing, walking up to the gates. There are guards stationed on both sides of the gate, who keep watch over the castle grounds. You feel anxious and fearful as you approach them, they keep an watchful eye on you as you draw closer. Eventually you find your way to the throne room of the castle. Aegon is sitting in his throne, his piercing eyes looking down at you. He is flanked by a handful of guards and advisors, forming a circle around him. As you enter the room, the quiet conversations and whispers stop instantly, and all attention is focused on you. His gaze is like a blazing flame, his look burning into you as he waits for you to speak. The guards and advisors stand close by, as if they are ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Everyone in the room is watching you intently, and you feel the pressure of everyone's eyes bearing down on you.

“I brought you a message from Queen Rhaenyra.” Your voice sounds small and strained as you speak, the weight of so many eyes upon you is overwhelming. The atmosphere in the room is thick with anticipation. After a pause, Aegon speaks, his voice calm and measured. "And what is the message?" "The message is personal and private, and it is to be delivered only to you and no one else." Aegon’s eyes narrow and his expression becomes more intense, as if deep in thought. He's silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "I see. If the message is personal and private, then why are you delivering it instead of Queen Rhaenyra herself?" The tension in the air increases as he speaks, his tone is stern and his face is fixed in a serious expression. He's awaiting a good reason for him to accept this message as legitimate and not a trick or ruse. "There must have been some reason for you being sent here, rather than Queen Rhaenyra coming herself," he says, "Is there a reason why she wouldn't have come here herself? If this message was so personal and private, why didn't she come herself to deliver it?" “I’m not sure.” Aegon raises an eyebrow, his expression becoming even more skeptical. "You're not sure?" He asks in a skeptical tone, "That's a rather unsatisfactory answer, don't you think?" After a few moments, you finally speak again. “My father sent me as the messenger.” “And why would he have done that, I wonder?!”

Aegon stares at you for a few more moments, with a stern and intense expression, before finally speaking again. “Well, I suppose we shall just have to read the message for ourselves, and see what Rhaenyra has to say.” He finally reaches for the small black pouch in your hands, and begins opening it. He removes the message inside and examines it, reading what is written on it. After a few moments, he looks back up at you. "That cunning bitch," he mutters under his breath. His fury seems to be reaching a boiling point, as he speaks again. "Everyone out!” As the room falls silent, you look at Aegon, who is now standing in front of you, still clutching the message in his hands. His face is contorted with fury, and his expression is like the face of a raging bull, ready to charge at a moment's notice.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he speaks again. "How dare she send you here with a message like this!" He shouts, his voice full of rage and anger. "She thinks she can tell me what to do? Who the fuck does she think she is!?" He stares at you for a few moments, his eyes narrowed and his face full of rage. "And does she think I'm just gonna let you walk away after this?!" "Pardon me?" Your face began to grow darker. "I will not let this pass. I will not let her disrespect me in such a manner. And I'm not going to just let you walk away either. I will not let you go. You're going to be my prize of war, and you'll stay here with me, where I can take my time with you." The threat of violence is now very evident in the king's tone. He continues to stare at you, his expression growing darker and more intense.

This was probably a big mistake. You can feel the weight of his glare digging deep into your skin, and you feel like he's considering what he's going to do to you even more seriously now. After a few moments of silence, Aegon takes a deep breath and starts to speak again. "You're going to stay here with me, and I'm going to take my time with you. Your queen might think that she's being clever and making a request, but I'll show her just how foolish she is." "The fuck I am! You can't keep me captive!" Aegon takes a deep breath and nods his head slowly. "Oh, can't I?" He responds calmly and politely, but his tone is one of pure menace. “I can keep you here for as long as I like, and there's nothing you can do about it.” His face grows even darker, and he slowly steps towards you. He moves in closer and closer, getting right into your personal space. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your neck, and it's an unbearably intense feeling. His face just a few inches away from your ear. You feel his breath tickling your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is like a whisper, but it's a whisper of pure threat and power. "You're mine now." His breath tickles your skin, you feel like you can't move, like your body has frozen up and you can't even scream.

Aegon’s breath continues to tickle your skin as he pulls you close to him, his lips just brushing against your skin. You feel powerless to move, as if your body has been frozen in place by the fear he is instilling in you. "Worry not sweetling, we'll have a good time." He whispers into your ear, his voice is like a snake slithering its way into your head. "N-no..." His breath continues to whisper into your ear, and his voice is full of a predatory kind of sensuality. "Oh, yes.." He replies slowly, dragging his next words out for a long time. "You are mine, there’s no running from me now. I’ll take good care of you..." You try to break free from the his grip, but it's hard to get away from him. He holds you close to himself and his hold on you is tight. He seems to be enjoying himself far too much at the prospect of taking you for his own. Your body is filled with fear and trepidation, but you also feel a strange sense of excitement and arousal. Your body is responding to his touch in a way that is both terrifying and pleasurable at the same time. Aegon’s hands are caressing your skin softly as he pulls you closer to him, holding you even tighter and not letting you go anywhere. You let out a whimper as the caress of his touch sends a tingling sensation down your spine. You're being consumed in a very intimate way, your body being overwhelmed by his presence and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. Your attention was completely focused on Aegon that you didn't notice Aemond entering the room.

Aemond sees the two of you, and you can tell from the look in his eye that he is absolutely furious. He walks up close to you, and you feel the heat of his anger radiating off of his presence like a fire. Aegon finally notices Aemond's presence and looks over at him with a dark expression, his mouth curled up into a sneer. His grip on you becomes even tighter, and you can feel the heat coming off his body like a furnace as he stares at Aemond. He seems very protective of you, and he is not going to let anyone interfere with his plans. Aemond's eye was burning with fury, staring down at Aegon, his voice is a low and menacing growl. "What do you think you're doing with her?!" Aegon looks up at Aemond with a dark and menacing expression, he continues to hold you close to himself. "I'm taking her for my own." He replies in a cold voice. Aemond's eye is still fixated on Aegon, and the two men seem to be locked in a fierce staring contest. You can feel the tension in the air increasing as both men glare at each other, their hostility and aggression rising even higher. Aegon’s grip on you tightens even more, and you feel like you're being smothered.

"I will not let you touch her!" Aemond snaps, and you can tell he's barely holding back his anger. His face is a mask of fury, his body is tensing up, as if he's preparing to attack at any moment. He seems absolutely determined to protect you, and you can feel the raw power and aggression coming off of him like a storm of fury. Neither man wants to back down in this stand off, and they continue to glare at each other with a sense of simmering fury. You're trapped in the middle, with all of this tension and hostility growing around you. Your body is being overpowered by Aegon’s grip and you can't move away. "Please let me go..." Your voice is completely being ignored by both men as their confrontation becomes more intense and heated. You try to plead with both Aegon and Aemond to let you go, but they both seem to have lost all rationality and their sense of logic. Now all they're focused on is fighting over your possession. You’re trapped, scared and helpless as you continue to plead with him to let you go. But his resolve is like iron, and you can't help but feel like this is the endgame for you, and that you're going to be carried off in the king's arms at any moment now.

Aegon finally releases you from his grip, and you fall to the floor at his feet. You can feel him looking at you with a cold and menacing glare, but you're also relieved to be free from his grasp. You have a few seconds of hesitation and fear before Aemond pulls you behind him. You cling onto his back as he faces Aegon and you can feel his anger overflowing like an overflowing cup of wrath. "A-aemond..." you whimper, clinging onto him for support. He's the only thing in this room that seems like it could protect you right now. You feel like you're safe with him, but you still can't help but feel terrified at what might happen next.

"I am going to escort her to a guest room and then I’ll deal with you, Aegon." Aegon stares at Aemond with a deadly look of fury, but he doesn't resist. He lets Aemond lead you out of the room, and you're still clinging onto him for support. You feel safe and protected in Aemond's arms, but you still can't help but feel a bit of hesitation and uncertainty. Aemond's tone is stern and authoritative as he leads you out of the room. He doesn't look back at Aegon, and he keeps his eyes focused on the task of safely getting you away from him. You can feel him breathing softly next to you, and you can feel his muscles flexing slightly with each step he takes as he leads you out of the room. He leads you through the halls of the castle. Your body still clinging onto him as a source of protection and comfort, and you’re slightly trembling with fear and nerves. Despite being stern and authoritative, he's also being very gentle and careful with you.

The two of you finally arrive at a room, and Aemond closes the door behind you. He turns to face you, and you can see the intense look in his eye as he stares at you for a moment. You feel like you're being scrutinized by that penetrating gaze, and it makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. He's not smiling or being friendly like before, but instead he seems to be assessing you in an oddly intense way. Aemond stays silent for a minute, continuing to look at you with that intense gaze. You feel like he's looking at you like a stranger, and you feel like he's judging you based on what happened back there. You feel a bit nervous under his intense stare, and you feel like he's not being friendly at all. You have no idea what sort of reaction he is going to have to this situation, and you feel very vulnerable as a result. You still feel like a trembling nervous mess under his stare. After a minute of silence, he finally speaks in a stern voice. "So...what happened back there?" His tone is very serious and stoic, there's no hint of friendliness in his voice. His eye is penetrating, looking into your soul. You don't know what to say, and you feel like your words are being scrutinized heavily. "I, I gave him a message from Queen Rhaenyra." Aemond’s face remains stoic and unchanged, and he waits for you to say more. His face show no hint of a reaction to what you've said, and he continues to stare at you with that piercingly intense gaze. "I have no idea what it says... But I can only imagine... Aegon isn't the rightful king." His face still remains expressionless, studying you intensely. He still seems very cautious and distrustful. He seems suspicious of your reason for delivering the message in the first place. "So, you're trying to steal my brother's crown?" Aemond finally spoke, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. His tone filled with a suspicious kind of disdain. His words were loaded with malice and anger as he accused you of trying to steal his older brother's crown. You could not help but feel your heart beating in your throat at his accusation. "Your queen is a usurper, and a thief. She is trying to steal my brother's crown."

Your heart skipped a beat when Aemond moved closer and caressed your cheek gently, your body shuddering slightly at the touch. You could feel the heat of his breath and his touch on your skin, and your whole body felt like it was trembling under his grasp. "I'm afraid your our prisoner now, dove." His touch made you shiver and tremble in a way that you found both thrilling and frightening. The way he caressed your cheek with his thumb was so tender and gentle, his touch was like a gentle caress sending butterflies through your whole body. "My father will have your head for keeping me hostage!" Your words seem to be have a profound effect Aemond's stance as he stops caressing and backing away slightly. His eyes are filled with a sudden flash of anger and hostility, and he seems to be glaring at you with a mixture of distrust and fury. He then speaks in a harsh and stern voice. "My brother will also have your so called queen’s head for being a traitor to the throne! You should be grateful that I have chosen to keep you safe." His sudden outburst of anger and hostility took you off guard, and you had no idea how to handle his sudden change of mood. You felt like a small and powerless creature facing off against a giant beast. His tone was menacing and he seemed so much stronger and more frightening than you remembered him to be. As he spoke, his anger and hostility made you feel even more vulnerable and scared. This was not the gentle and friendly Aemond you remembered, this was a whole different beast entirely. "I am protecting you. Your so-called queen would never treat you with such care as I have." He took one step closer again, his tone sounding more insistent and authoritarian than before. You could feel the heat of his breath and the intensity of his gaze, and your heart was beating out of your chest. "I will take care of you. I will protect you." He spoke softly this time, almost sounding like a whispering voice. You felt like your whole body was trembling with fear and nerves, but you felt a strange sense of comfort underneath the intensity of his gaze. You felt like a small animal being held tightly in the grip of a predator, but in this predator's eyes you found a hint of kindness and tenderness. "Do you see how I am treating you? Like a precious jewel. Like a delicate flower. Like my little rose."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon x you #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aegon x oc #hotd

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - CHAPTER 17

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Things go a lot better than Javier had predicted in Washington, but it's time to leave Colombia behind and go home, at the same time you can't leave Colombia, which makes you take a risky decision

Warnings: angst, sad!Javi, incorrect narcos plot, mentions of masturbation, smut (phone sex hihihi), dirty talk, sad!reader, an old character returns, fluff

A/N: I'm not gonna say much as I'm very tired because I just finished this chapter and I wrote A LOT today, but I loved this chapter, I feel I wrote my heart into this chapter and I hope you besties enjoy it as much as I did

• PART ONE TO SIXTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

5.6k words

"¡Por fin, cayó!" 

Javier's heart sank when he heard these words through the TV. It was his fourth or fifth scotch, he had already lost track of it, as there was nothing else to do in that place other than get drunk and worry about what the future held for him. His meeting with the board would be in two days, and Javi had received no other instruction besides a warning not to leave town. He didn't know if he would have to get himself a lawyer, maybe he should have already done it, the interview with Judy Moncada hit like a bomb and the media was pressing the American government which pressed the DEA and it became a vicious circle. It actually came in handy as the investigations around Escobar's location tightened and as far as Javi had heard, they were very close to catching him. He looked around the shady bar he was in and saw a few beautiful women having their drinks. If it were at any other moment of his life, he would approach some of them with his charm and woo them to bed. 

But that was before you. 

Now, even if he tried picking up a girl on purpose, he wouldn't be able to do it, you had put him under a spell, you were the only one who crossed his mind at all times of the day, your face was the last thing he saw before falling asleep and the first thing to appear when he woke up. His heart raced to think of you, the moments you two spent together, the way you'd smile at him, kiss his lips, how your laughter was his favorite sound in the world - second favorite, as the first one had to be your moans - and the way your face lit up when he proposed to you, how you'd said yes without even thinking and when he officially got on his knees and gave you the ring, you teared up and said yes once again, because that would always be your answer to him.

He also deeply missed your body, he had memorized your curves, your freckles and your weak spots. Night after night he fucked his own fist thinking of you, it wasn't enough, it didn't compare to actually having you there, it offered him such a bittersweet relief because once the bliss of his orgasm faded, he turned to an empty spot in his bed. It lacked your warmth, your smell, your body. He missed holding you, he missed how you'd run your fingers through his hair, how you'd sit on his lap to have breakfast. Even if he wrote to you, called you, heard your voice, it wasn't the same. He could spend hours on the phone talking to you, and it wouldn't be enough, as soon as you hung up the emptiness he felt returned at full intensity. 

Javier had never felt like that for any woman, but he felt that for you, he was sure he was under your spell, but he never wanted to break free from it. 

However, at that moment Javier's heart was broken; he couldn't believe that after so many years of dedication and hard work he'd missed the capture and killing of the most wanted man in the world. After so much he'd given to the government and to Colombia, he had been forced to watch it from afar, as his entire career was going to be decided by a bunch of suited men who never raised their asses of their comfortable cushioned chairs and taken a look at what the real world of drugs was like.

Javi finished his liquor and paid for it, placing his jacket back on and heading towards the end. He wanted to call you, he wanted to hear your voice and make sure you were alright. That night was just one of those nights where the pang in his chest was too intense, he missed you to the point it felt like his skin burned. Truth to be told, he didn't want to call you over the phone, he wanted to have you there, with him, sharing a bed, sleeping together, kissing and fucking. He craved your presence and your body, but for that moment, a telephone call would be the closest he would get from you. However, he would call you from his hotel room, he wanted privacy to talk to you, he needed the comfort of a bed, a pillow under his head so he could pretend things were okay again. Where he'd close his eyes while you spoke with your sweet, gentle voice and he could pretend you were just a room away from him, taking long in the bathroom for instance, before you would appear wearing nothing but his shirt just for him.

At that moment, there was another call Javier had to make, so he searched his pickets to find some coins he could use in the phone booth. He needed to get a hold of Steve in order to know everything about Pablo's death. He'd seen it through the tv but it was obvious it wasn't the same as witnessing history writing itself. You could offer him some juicy details in a few weeks, once you worked on your reports to send it over to the government, then you'd be organizing your own report, based on the cops' reports and accounts who took part in the mission, just as the necropsy reports too. 

All in all, you would have a ton shit of work and you would have to compile probably thousands of pages, to the point Messina would probably have to send over a team of people to help you. Peña knew how stressed you were, about the whole Pablo Escobar and about his own situation as well. He hated that he caused you to stress over what was probably going to happen to him, and if he could, he would abduct you from that chaotic life and take you to his ranch, so you two could get married and live your life in peace. He got lost in his thoughts that were all about you and nearly forgot what he was doing when Steve's voice was heard on the other side of the line. 

After Javi had the confirmation he would have to go to Washington, he'd had a conversation with Steve and the two of them apologized to each other and went back to being friends, under the condition imposed by Javier: Murphy would have to take care of you while Javi was gone. 

He skipped the usual greetings and went straight for the account of what happened the day they caught Escobar, not sparing any details; he told Javier everything that happened that day until they took the infamous photograph of Escobar's dead body. 

The burning feeling of jealousy and envy took over Javi's body even if he fought them as hard as he could, he couldn't believe himself when he felt that, he should be happy, his friend managed to catch Colombia's boogeyman and they probably made things a little bit better to the world, and yet there he was, standing inside of a phone booth sulking like a teenage girl because he couldn't be a part of it. It was pathetic and he felt ridiculous, but he also felt he deserved to be there, he'd given so much of himself to that, and he deserved to have shot Escobar at least once. 

"So, how's Y/N doing?" Javi asked after Steve finished narrating his part of the story, after all, you were still the most important thing that lingered on his mind the entire time, he heard Steve's sigh and felt his heart clench. 

"You know… she's doing alright, she's strong, she's been working a lot, Connie talks to her everyday and well, she misses you and she's worried, but she knows the two of you need to be patient" he told his friend "and for her sake, I also hope you are keeping your dick in your pants, Javi" 

Javier laughed as he could hear the smirk in his friend's voice and ran his thumb over his eyebrow "fuck you Murphy" he said before hanging up. 

Javi lit up a cigarette - because he avoided smoking them around you, as he didn't want you to breathe his smoke, but now he was away from you he felt miserable and he figured he deserved at least a puff - and walked back to his hotel. 

He was gonna lie in his bed, call you and give zero fucks about how expensive long-distance calls were and pretend he didn't hear your voice breaking while you tried to hold your tears at the same time you pretended you didn't cry whenever you talked about him and the uncertainty of your future together. 

                            •••

Javier licked his lips as he tensely walked through the hallway. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, but he knew it wasn't good. Just two days before, he had called Steve wanting to know everything about Pablo Escobar's death. It'd been a few days since the task force formed by the DEA, CIA and the Colombian police managed to take down the most wanted man in the world. 

Even if Javier still felt bitter about it, he was also relieved to see each time he grabbed a newspaper or he tuned into the news channel, the DEA scandal about a long term agent associating with a death squad was replaced by the joy and glory of the US government of having ended the kingdom of terror of Escobar. As he placed his fingers between his tie and his neck, pulling them a little in order to create some space and subdue the feeling of being suffocated, that's all he tried keeping in mind as nervousness flooded through him. He was about to have his life decided, he could be fired, go to jail, go back as if nothing had happened, and the fact he had absolutely no clue which turn his life would take was nerve-wracking.

He was told to get inside the conference room by a very rude secretary and rolled his eyes. She had no idea who she was talking to, he was Javier Peña, former charmer of secretaries. If he hadn't been tamed by a gorgeous girl back in Colombia he would make sure to lean towards her desk and work his charms on her until she was giggling and blushing only to invite her for a few drinks and after fucking her, leave her in bed. Javier was a gentleman and he didn't think doing that to women was alright, but under those circumstances he figured an entitled bitch like that deserved it. He chuckled to himself at the realization you were the only one he would love to invite for some drinks, take to bed but instead of leaving in the morning, he'd make sure to hold you tight the whole night, so he'd wake up with you. It ached to think of the distance between the two of you, so he just sat down and gulped, tense to know what was going to happen.

He nervously tapped his fingers on the table as a group of suited men walked into the room and took the chairs in front of him. 

With no introductions or whatsoever, one of the men grabbed a file and read out loud the report about Pablo Escobar's death. It highlighted all the positive enforcement the american government received and how positive it was for their image, Javier breathed heavily and shifted uncomfortably on his seat, staring at the man and having absolutely no clue why he was blabbering about that at all.

"Do I need a lawyer?" He asked and saw as the other members of the board laughed softly. 

"Agent Peña, a lawyer is not required for the occasion. You see, morale was hanging low once Miami Herald published that controversial interview, causing us a series of inconveniences, hence why you've been called here. However, as your team managed to catch Escobar, things changed, and we are all willing to forget about your… incident, let's put it that way, with Los Pepes" anyone could see the relief in Javier, as his shoulders immediately relaxed and the tension slowly floated away, he knew it was too soon to celebrate but thing we're going way better than he anticipated. 

"Still… after a long conversation with our Ambassador in Colombia, we came to the conclusion you need to take some time off from the dangers of your job, so you are going to be permanently removed from the DEA.." 

"Am I being forced to retire or are you trying to kick me out?" Javi asked confused and slightly angry, he didn't like the insinuations they were making. What were they thinking? That he wasn't good enough for his job anymore or that he was getting too old?

"Excuse me, agent Peña…" another member of the board interrupted and glanced at his colleague and then back at him "you shouldn't see this as retirement, it is just a paid leave, a privilege really, and it has the duration of a year, after that you can choose if you'd like to go back to the field, or if you'd prefer to get a desk job, and if you take a liking on the easy life you can officially retire. Don't make a fuss out of it, agent… It is already much better than what would happen if Escobar hadn't been caught. You could be heading to jail instead of getting permanent paid vacation… it's just a small thank you as we all know that off the record, your association with that group was what really enabled our men to catch Escobar" 

Before Javier could say anything about it, the men got up and exited the room, leaving him there dumbfounded and too shocked to say the least. 

                       •••

"So technically you are on paid vacation for a whole year?" You asked as you held the phone against your ear and took off your shoes, getting comfortable in bed and watching your reflection in the mirror as you lay comfortably against the mattress. You had been staying in Javi's apartment ever since he had to leave; it just felt like the most logical decision as your own place never really felt like home and by staying at Javi's you felt somewhat closer to him. 

"Yeah, that's what it seems like, I still don't know if they'll take my badge and gun, but I guess I won't be using them very much… but enough talking about that, it's good enough I'm not going to jail" he smiled sadly as he tried picturing you on the other side of the line, his body aching for yours at the same time you felt emotional, Javi had already told you everything that happened with details at least twice and you still asked questions just to double check it, even if it was an annoying habit you couldn't help but do it again and again just to make sure it was real and not just a sweet dream, your spent weeks fearing having your fiance taken to jail and now you were so relieved to know he would get paid to stay home. Of course Javier's pride was probably hurt and he felt bad about being removed from the job he dedicated himself to for the past years of his life, but after everything that went on with the hunt of Escobar and Judy Moncada's interview you were more than thankful he was actually being paid not to work. Not only that, but you knew it would do Javi good to be able to step away from the stress, the rush, the violence and the constant danger. You weren't an agent and you didn't work in the field and you felt you were often emotionally exhausted, so you couldn't even imagine how tired Javi must've felt. 

"And I'm guessing you can't come back to Colombia… So are you going home?" 

"Yeah, the board strongly advised me to avoid Colombia for now, and well, I'm going to Laredo, gonna see pa, check the things on the ranch… and I was hoping you could come? Maybe meet me there?" He suggested and your heart clenched, as you could picture perfectly the puppy look in his eyes as he asked you. You wanted to say yes, you wanted to scream yes to him, you wanted to tell him you would pack your things and fly in the first flight to Texas you could find and then later Steve and Connie could ship the rest of your things. 

You wanted to tell him to wait for you at night because you would wear his favorite lingerie and that you could even get married if he wanted to, but instead, you sighed sadly as you felt your eyes watering and you tried your best so your voice wouldn't break and it wouldn't make Javi feel worse than he did before. 

"I-I can't. I really want to, I can't wait Javi, sometimes I even dream of being in Laredo with you, even if I haven't been there, but I dream of us, of the family we'll build… but Messina told me it will take us from three to six months to finish the Escobar case paperwork" you said sadly knowing your heart would shatter if you heard the disappointment in his voice. 

"It's alright" he said and there it was, the disappointment in his voice. He wasn't sad or angry with you, of course, but it felt like everything and everyone was against the two of you. For once, there was nothing Javier wanted more than to settle down with you and yet, it seemed everyone betted against it. "We will figure something else… I just miss you, cariño and I wish I could be there with you… or even better, I wish you could be here with me" he licked his lips and told you about how he had booked a flight for the next day so he could go back to his hometown and you smiled, trying to entertain yourself and not think of how unfair it was that you and Javi were kept apart like that. You sighed sadly but then you had an idea that could cheer the two of you up, you bit your lips, giggling softly. 

"Javi?" You purred onto the phone knowing it certainly would draw his attention "what are you wearing?" You chuckled 

"What?" He asked confused at first but getting what you meant almost instantly "what are you trying to do, princesa? ¿Quieres portarte como una puta?" 

"Si Javi, siempre para tí" you replied chuckling "well, if you are gonna take too long, then I'll start… I'm wearing your shit, that blue one, you know? I got off shower a while ago and I just put the shirt on… with nothing underneath it" 

"Fuck cariño, you are such a tease… you are trying to get into my pants, princesa?" He loved how you chuckled, he could picture your beautiful face, your body and the expectation of his touch. 

"You haven't answered me yet, Peña" he could even picture your small frown as you called him by his last name. Javi laughed softly 

"Well, I am wearing my jeans and that's all… why? What do you want now, Y/N?" 

"Um… I like that Javi… you're holding the phone with your left hand, aren't you? Well, then where is your right hand placed?" Javier stroked his eyebrow with the tip of his thumb as he heard your voice 

"It's on my forehead, why?" 

"Because I want you to run your hand down your chest, Javi… down your stomach too, and get to your zipper, just as if it was my hand instead of yours, get it?" 

Javi felt a spike of lust at your words. You often didn't give him orders, it was usually Javi who took the lead, but for some reason that side of you pleased him, and he gladly obeyed, getting to his zipper and gently tugging the button of his jeans. 

"Done cariño… it doesn't compare to your hand, the real deal is way better, but I'm willing to know what else you want" 

"Go ahead Javi, mi amor, open your fly… free your cock, I miss it so much" you said "I miss it how big and thick you are Javi, how you would stretch me real good, I miss you cumming inside of me, your hot cum deep inside my womb, how I would convulse and milk you dry, I miss you, te extraño tanto, amor" you whispered "are you hard, Javi?" you earned a grunt as a response "of course you are, you're always hard for me, aren't you Javi? I fucking love it"

"Always hard for you, baby, you're the only one who owns this cock" Javi's submission warmed your core and it made your pussy clench at the thought of him. 

"Good Javi, me encanta saber eso" you purred, as he loved when you spoke Spanish to him "now, I want you to rub your thumb over your tip, okay? I bet it's already wet with your pre cum, isn't it?" 

"Sí, mi amor" he purred back at you and did as you told him, groaning in pleasure as his tip was so sensitive. 

"Good Javi… now I want you to wrap your hand around your cock and rub yourself up and down okay? Can you touch yourself for me, Javi?" He whispered a small yes as he wrapped his hand around himself and fucked his fist for you. He thought of you, your lips, your cunt, your ass, all of it for him, all the times you brought him pleasure and couldn't hold back any longer, he came, making a mess on his hand, his stomach and a little bit on his sheet. 

You were so glad to have made him feel good and you two ended the call by exchanging love words. Despite the distance, nothing had changed and you two were going strong, because your love was strong. 

                      •••

Another week had passed and things hadn't changed much for you. For Javi, on the other hand, things had changed a lot. He'd returned to Laredo and made sure to tell you every single part of his adventure, because it was an adventure to him. After being away from home for so many years, he came back as some kind of bizarre local superstar. Everyone he knew - and people he didn't know - stopped him to congratulate him on the services for the country, at the same time old girlfriends stared, glanced, frowned, whispered about him and some even threw their charms. 

But your absolutely favorite situation that embarrassed Javier Peña to death: whenever an older woman came over to him and tried setting him up with a daughter, a niece or any other girl he had absolutely no intention of meeting. You always burst out laughing when Javi told you about these occasions, enjoying your amusement at how embarrassing those situations were for him. You would give anything to be there with him, to see how warm people from Laredo were when they saw your boyfriend and it made you proud to see he got the acknowledgement he deserved after working so hard. 

You were happy Javi was enjoying his time, apparently his relationship with his dad had improved some, he got to take care of his horses and you couldn't hold back your hormones at the mere thought of Javier as a cowboy. You could bet he looked every bit sexy like that and you often daydreamed about it. 

Because daydreaming about Javier was the only thing that made you happy, your job was a real torture, if you weren't happy before while you still had Javi by your side, now there wasn't even what to say about it. And when you got home it was worse, because you were welcomed by loneliness. And then in the morning, you would wake up and start it all over again. 

Even when you got dressed, you didn't find joy in anything as everything reminded you of Javi. The clothes you picked, the nail polish you wore, your engagement ring. It was a sweet reminder of your Javi, but also a bitter reminder he was home. 

You went to the office feeling bad like you usually did, you just had no will to do anything else, and you often wondered what the fuck you were still doing there. 

You were sat at your desk, stress already cooking up your brain as you could feel your headache forming, when someone stood next to you, but you were too distracted to notice. 

"Y/N?" You raised your head, shocked to hear that voice addressing you after so long 

"Manu?" You said looking at the man, who's smiled at you just like he did when you first met "c-can I help you with anything? I haven't finished the reports yet, but I can assist you" 

Manu shook his head and pulled a chair, sitting close to you and taking your hand, watching your engagement ring "I'm not here to talk about that, I'm here to talk about you and Javier… listen, I know shit went down between us and there was a time not too long ago I wanted to kill him and probably you too for hurting me" he sighed "but the anger I felt faded… and well, rumor has it Javier Peña proposed to you and judging by the size of this gem, I can tell Colleen was spreading the true story" Manu laughed at the sight of you  gritting your teeth to hear about Colleen. 

"But Javier isn't here anymore and I can see that you're sadder and sadder, and I don't like seeing you like that, Y/N… I know I shouldn't even care about you anymore, but I still do, and I know your heart belongs to someone else, but I also hate to see your light fading, you aren't happy here, and I also know you've been wanting to quit for a while…" for once this part of the gossip came from Steve, not Colleen, and you really didn't get why Murphy could be such a gossip girl sometimes "so, I just want you to know that I think you should do it, you should quit, hop on a plane and go after your happiness, because that's what I would do… of course I would like your happiness to be here with me, but I know it's Javier… it has always been him and there's no way I can compete with that" Manu offered you a sad smile and knew it was probably the last time he was seeing you, as he was sure you wouldn't be away from Javier for too long. 

You felt so touched by Manu's attitude, you didn't expect that from him at all, among all the people, he was the one who had all the reasons in the world to hate you and be glad to see you that upset, and yet, he offered you nothing but kindness to the point it made you feel ashamed and guilty for being such a shitty girlfriend to him, he definitely deserved it better, but as he had said himself, you couldn't be the one to give it to him. Once again you apologized to him for all the heartache you caused, knowing it would probably not gonna be enough, but it made your heart soothed if he knew you at least meant those words. 

You leaned in and hugged him, wishing him well because you also had the feeling that would be the last time you'd see him. 

The rest of the day wasn't much more than a blur to you: you ran late to your meeting at the embassy because of the chaotic traffic and Messina wasn't pleased about it. She'd been acting like a major bitch, which was odd as most represent of the government were nothing but smiles ever since Escobar was dead, and yet, she acted towards everybody like she could scold them like a fifth grade teacher over absolutely anything. It angered you and it was also one of the no Peña related reasons why you were so unmotivated about your job, and the fact that Manu's words wouldn't leave your mind and you couldn't quite focus on anything other than staring down at your engagement ring and fantasize about leaving everything behind didn't make things anything easy. 

"I'm sorry Y/N… did I say something funny?" Messina raised her eyebrow as she angrily addressed to you, snapping you out of your fantasies and making everyone in the room stare

"What?" You replied to her, having no clue what she was actually talking about.

"I wanted to know if you thought I had said something funny while we were revisiting the case because while everybody focused on the reports you were just smiling at yourself, it seems you don't care about your job" 

You stared at her for a while as you didn't say anything, letting her words sink and looking around the room, watching as the other people looked at you, everybody looking stressed and miserable while sweating uncomfortably because of the heat and you realized you didn't actually have to put up with that because you didn't actually care about that job and most importantly because you were just a flight away from being happy. 

"You're right, I don't care about this job at all, I don't care what page of the report you guys are, I don't care if there's a typo or if you didn't like the final result, in fact, I would like to quit and never come back here" he said throwing your papers onto her desk and walking out the room, feeling the sweet taste of freedom.

The rest of the day went a lot smooth than you thought. You just went back home, packed all your essentials in one big bag and then knocked on Steve's and Connie's door, to let them know you were flying to Texas. They were shocked at first and even thought you were joking, but when they realized you were dead serious, they made sure to assure you they'd take care of your stuff and send them over to you whenever you or Javi needed. Connie hugged you tight and made you promise you would visit, and you just giggled and told her they were already invited to the wedding.

The couple drove you to the airport and after giving you their goodbyes, you boarded on the plane, so happy to know in just a few hours you'd see Javi.

You flew overnight and got to Laredo in the morning, so excited to see Javi. It had been a surprise and if you had told Steve he shouldn't tell Javi where you were going, you didn't want to spoil things. 

When you first got to Laredo, you realized you didn't know where Javi's ranch was but you were so exhausted you couldn't even think straight. You realized you needed to sleep through your jetlag and calm down from all the emotional rollercoaster you went through. Not to mention the physical part that made your entire body sore. 

You found a small motel just a couple of blocks from the airport and decided to book a room for the day, - because you didn't plan to sleep there through the night - but much to your horror, the moment you placed your head against the pillow you simply passed out and only woke up in the evening. 

You were so disoriented you had forgotten for a split second where you were, but you jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom, showering and getting rid of all the sweat and tiredness and changing into one of Javi's favorite summer dresses. 

Then, you went to the reception and asked where the Peña ranch was, to which the young woman smiled and explained you the location.

"Forgive me, but I don't think Don Chucho and Javier are there now, tonight's Danny's wedding and pretty much the whole Laredo is gonna be there… I'm going there now myself as my shift has just ended" you nodded at her and remembered that Javi had indeed mentioned something about a wedding that week "but if you'd like, you could come with me? I'll give you a ride" 

                           •••

Javi had just talked to Lorraine and apologized to her again. It had been just a habit he got into over the past decade as guilt still consumed him every time he saw her. It didn't matter how many times she assured him she had forgiven her, he still felt guilty. 

He felt guilty because he knew you went through a very similar situation and he could kill the guy who made you go throught that, because he couldn't even imagine someone hurting you like that. 

When Lorraine talked about her family, Javi couldn't help but imagine his own, the one he would have with you in the future. He sighed as he got distracted from thinking of a beautiful little girl that looked like you as you had another bread in the oven and wore a golden ring around your finger and went back to his seat. Javi was good to go, but his dad was still eating and he didn't want to rush him.

He distractedly scanned the room and didn't notice when you came from behind, approaching him quietly and placing your delicate hands on his shoulders

"Would you like to dance, Javi?" You asked him, as he turned around feeling slightly mortified watching you stand there, just like he dreamed of for the last couple of weeks. 

_____

A/N: I hope you liked it besties, let me know what you think! ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña imagine #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena imagine

[misc-obeyme]

Here's a kinda angsty thought I have with dateables!

Okay, the brothers and side characters (not Luke ofc) love MC, yeah? And MC makes it very clear the brothers are their first choice whenever they have to choose between them and the side characters.

Imagine Diavolo, Barbatos and Solomon hell maybe even Thirteen when they realize no matter what they do, the brothers will always be on top for MC. Sure, MC is great with them but they only truly relax and show their real self with the brothers and it shows.

What do you think? [BTW have a great night/day!]

MY FRIEND I AM SO SORRY.

Apparently this ask was sent way back in October?!?! It only just showed up today!!! Tumblr, whyyy??

I got your other ask today, too and I will answer that one as well! But I think this must have been the mystery message my ask box kept telling me was there, but I could never see it?! It was like you have 1 message, but then it'd also be like your ask box is empty and I was like which is it?!

I'm so sorry if you thought I just ignored your ask 😭

That is absolutely not my style at all, so a note to everyone who has ever sent me an ask: if I don't respond in maybe a week, please send it again!! I usually answer asks within a couple days, but I'm saying a week just in case I have some extenuating circumstances lol.

ANYWAY lemme actually answer your ask from two months ago! 😭

I think about the potential of this scenario when I wanna get angsty lol.

So here is what I think it would be like for the side characters realizing that MC will always choose the brothers over them:

Diavolo: Ahh, our prince would be so gentlemanly about it. Especially if MC ended up with Lucifer specifically. But either way, I think he would prioritize MC's happiness over his own. He would see MC's choice as a good one. He would see the way the brothers love MC. He would get sad about it sometimes and I think he'd have some sleepless nights where he wishes MC was beside him. But in the end, he would focus on his job and let MC go. Seeing them be comfortable and happy with the brothers would bring him a sort of bittersweet happiness, too.

Barbatos: I think Barbatos would withdraw. I think he would become quieter and even more formal around MC than he already was. He respects MC's choice. I also feel like he would deliberately restrain himself in order to keep the peace. He cares too much about Diavolo, the brothers, & the state of the Devildom to really fight for MC's affections.

Simeon: Quiet suffering, but willing to cry about it when he needs to. Like I see him being honest with himself about how much it hurts, but never letting anyone else know. He would watch MC with a soft fondness, but from afar. Willing to let them be with the brothers if that's what makes them happiest.

Solomon: To be expected. Solomon already believes this. He already thinks MC is going to choose the brothers over him every time. He's prepared for that inevitability. It still breaks his heart to watch them slip away from him. Deep down, it probably devastates him. But he's determined to be there for them in any way he can, no matter what that looks like. And he would never let them know how he really feels... unless he got drunk maybe.

Thirteen: I see her being kinda like, Fine! Who needs you anyway!? But she says it with tears in her eyes. She gets abrasive as a response. And at first she might be a little stand offish with MC after she realizes. But I think in the end, her love for MC would soften her again, but it would hurt, too. She would need some time to transition herself to "friends only" status.

Raphael: I see his response as being kind of a mix between Simeon and Barb. Like, he's going to accept MC's choice and wants them to be happy, but he's also going to have to restrain himself from fighting for MC. Mr Spears does not strike me as the kinda guy who would just let someone go if he really loved them. But he does seem to be the kind of guy who cares a lot about doing the right thing. And I think he would consider letting MC go to be the right thing.

Mephisto: I could see him trying to push MC away himself, in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt. Like oh who would want a human anyway? Only fallen angels, obviously. But that's not what he really thinks, it's just a coping mechanism. And he can't keep it up anyway. He's secretly soft for MC. So I see him just transitioning to hating the brothers. Not going out of his way to make their lives difficult, but not helping them out either. Only being nice to MC. Keeping that pain inside because he can't admit it even to himself.

Nooo I made myself sad lol. I guess that's the point of angst though, huh??

Anyway, I am very fascinated by this topic! Once again, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the response, I'm still so annoyed at Tumblr lol.

#I'm glad I finally got the ask though #because I like talking about these things lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me side characters #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me thirteen #obey me raphael #obey me mephistopheles #avatar0fpr1de #misc answers

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒.

synopsis. in which you find yourself falling in love with the player behind the main character of the game you have been coded into.

genre. mild hurt + comfort

for @diorlumx <3

kenma kozume x gn!reader

a normal person wouldn’t believe it if they were suddenly told their life was etched into the very coding of the game, left in the hands of the person behind the screen. but that was reality — yours, and that of many others in your world.

you knew, you knew it all too well, as you were the exception.

why it had been you and not someone else, you were uncertain of, though.

part of you assumed something was wrong with you. that your file was corrupted or that a virus had found its way into your mind and consumed you wholly, allowing you privileges most do not possess.

however another side of you, thought it to be a gift, a blessing of knowledge.

for this love would not be possible, had it not been for the adulteration that allowed this interface between you and kenma kozume.

wheras your life was a singular branch to a great tree that was the story this simulation had created, the boy in front of you right now was none other than the player who controlled your fate with a series of clicks.

the protagonist of your tale.

one with an abundance of choices — each option more pleasant than the last, and yet.. it was you that he chose. the person who had captured his frigid heart and melted the ice away, layer by layer.

“y/n, i know we’re separated by reality.. but i just wanted you to know,” he paused, flushing a bit as his bangs fell over his visage. “that you are the reason i keep coming back to this game — why i keep holding off on finishing it.” he confessed, trailing his eyes back over to find you listening, offering him every ounce of your patience and attention.

he was almost certain any other person would have pushed for him to speak up — but you, you looked at him like he was your whole world. as though you’d waited a thousand years for him, and would wait a thousand more, just to hear the words fall naturally.

a smile lifted your lips as you picked his hands up in yours, squeezing them gently. “i wake up every morning hoping to find you again, kenma-san. wishing upon every star that litters the night sky to answer my dreams of truly being with you.” you answered softly, a bittersweet tone behind your words.

“how i wish i could cross the glass that sunders us from one another..” you finished in a mutter, lowering your gaze to the grassy expanse of the school courtyard. “but alas, fate is a cruel, wicked thing.”

the second year slid his hand underneath your cheek with great delicacy, as though you were made of porcelain. prone to shatter into a million different pieces if not handled with care. “fate is also a wonderful thing.. for allowing me the chance to meet you.” he reasoned quietly, urging you to lift your head and meet his loving gaze.

anyone who knew kenma outside of the protagonist character in front of you now would call him a joke for acting as he was.

to just about everyone, he was the hermit of nekoma high’s volleyball club — the unwilling setter thrust into said position by his childhood friend. but he was more than that, so much more.

kenma in love, displaying his true self, was the best version of himself. and he was right here, standing before you and slowly pouring that tentative heart out to you.

although the universe divided you both into reality and simulation, it was still kind enough to allow you one good, real thing. and that was the opportunity to meet again and again, even if an invisible wall separated you.

notes. i didn’t plan to add angst, but it just felt suited to build emotion.. anyway, i haven’t written much for kenma so i apologize if he is a bit ooc! i figured he would have a more vulnerable side if he’s in love yk? i hope you enjoyed though<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) haikyuu fics. #— ; 🏹 ) nekoma. #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu!! #kenma x y/n #kenma x gender neutral reader #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu kozume #hq kenma #kozume x reader #haikyuu imagine

[blue-aconite]

love, he called it || j.h.s

Summary: All in all, Jake would like to think that he was a good boyfriend. He did his best to remember all the anniversaries and the birthdays.

Warnings: Hurt no comfort, heartbreak, no happy ending

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Authors Note: I am so sorry. I have no excuse for this. Thanks to my lovely betas @yanna-banana​ & @whoreforseresin​. I could be persuaded to make a part 2.  

All in all, Jake would like to think that he was a good boyfriend. He did his best to remember all the anniversaries and the birthdays. There was always the looming dread of another deployment but they had survived the first one. He made sure to buy her flowers, even without occasion. They had date nights, made sure to spend time with mutual friends and also have time for themselves. 

So if anyone had asked him if he thought he was a good boyfriend, his answer would be yes. He and Peach were happy. They had been happy ever since he gathered enough courage to walk up to her at the bar one night while out with his friends. He had thought the night would end with her between his sheets but Jake had left the bar with her number in his phone and the feeling of her lips on his cheek. 

Four months into their relationship, Jake was given a new assignment and shipped out on a 8 month long deployment. Peach had kissed him gently, told him they would be alright and they had spent the week leading up to him leaving between the sheets. 

They shared their first ‘i love you’ on the docks before he boarded the carrier. Somewhat bittersweet but Jake knew that he now had a real reason to come home. Peach was waiting for him. He owed it to her to make it back. There was so much he wanted to do with her. He wanted something real. 

He had never felt like this before. There had been plenty of women before her, but none of them made him feel lightheaded, blood rushing to his cheeks each time she touched him. There was no one like her. Jake wanted to spend the rest of his life making her laugh, making sure she was safe and loved. 

He had never considered having kids and settling down but after meeting her, it felt like the only future possible for him. He wanted them to buy a house, build a life together. He wanted to see her swollen with his child, a little baby with her eyes and smile. Maybe with his hair and dimples. He wanted everything with her. Saying I love you at the docks hadn’t been enough to convey the depth of his feelings but he had time. He could tell her when got back. 

There was only one thing in the way. Jake loved the Navy. He loved his job, being a fighter pilot. Being in the sky was the only thing that might have compared to what he was feeling for Peach. He needed to fly like he needed air. 

He was the only pilot on active duty with a confirmed kill. While that particular title certainly brought its own demons, he thrived on the attention. He wanted to be the best. He was the best.

They had survived the first deployment and when Peach threw her arms around him at his arrival, Jake felt at peace for the first time since he left. Overwhelmed by her, finally being back in her arms, Jake asked her to move in with him. She had answered yes without a second thought. They settled into a somewhat routine once Jake got back and soon his home was filled with her. He loved it. He loved seeing pieces of her scattered across the rooms, reminding him that she was his, and he was hers. 

But old habits die hard and Jake hadn’t thought about what actually living with Peach would entail. He loved her. He did. So much that sometimes, it felt like his heart couldn’t take the pressure. But Jake was used to being alone. He wasn’t used to having someone in his personal space, day and night. It was difficult to adapt at first.

Truth was that Jake was terrified what Peach would realise she deserved better than what he could offer, and then she would leave him. It was the only way it could end, because if Jake couldn’t stand the sight of her shoes in a disarray in the hallway, what did she really think of his habits?

Maybe she was just lying when she said it didn’t bother her that he left empty glasses and cups in the sink. Or when she said that it didn’t matter that he didn’t own a single throw pillow for his bed. Maybe she just put up with him for promises they’d made to each other before moving in together. 

What if she woke up one day and realised that Jake just wasn’t enough. 

So he tried his best, to be a devoted boyfriend. 

It all started after he had been called back to Top Gun. After the mission, and its success, the Dagger Squad were offered permanent positions as instructors and thus forming an elite squad. Housing off base was provided, so Jake and Peach packed up and made the move down to San Diego. 

When he received the news of his promotion to Lieutenant Commander, the insatiable need to succeed, the one he had tampered down for so long, came back with vengeance. If he worked hard enough, the faster he would rise through the ranks. The faster he would be even better than he was now. And if he was, he could be better for Peach.

Then the nightmares started. He did his best to hide them from Peach, not wanting her to think he was weak. So when he woke up in a cold sweat, breath caught in his throat and heart beating so hard against his ribcage that it hurt, he didn’t turn to her embrace for comfort. Instead he left their bed behind and opted for a drink on the couch. 

She noticed, of course she did, but when Peach voiced her concerns, he waved her off. Blamed work for the lack of sleep. Told her that settling into being an instructor was tiresome and he just needed to get the routine in.

But weeks passed and Jake started staying out later, avoiding going home. If she was asleep when he got there, he didn’t have to talk about what was bothering him. He knew it was stupid, but it was easier to sit at the Hard Deck, nursing a beer rather than going home and spilling his guts. The last thing he wanted was for Peach to know about how weak he was. 

It was easier to pull away, to push her away than deal with his problems. He stopped holding her hand. Kisses in the morning before work became nonexistent as Jake rarely stayed in bed all night and was always gone when she woke up. He stayed later on base, going for a drink afterwards to avoid going home and have dinner with his girlfriend. It was for the best. 

He told himself that he just needed a little more time and then everything could go back to normal. Another few weeks and then he’d feel better and he would go back to being the man Peach deserved. He just needed more time. And then they would be good again. 

Two months after the mission, on a Thursday night, Jake came home a little after 10pm. The lights on the porch was on, which was odd considering Peach would usually be asleep by now. Closing the door behind him, he toed off his shoes and crept silently down the hallway to the kitchen. He expected it to be empty but to his surprise Peach was sitting at the table, staring blankly at the wall.

“Sweetheart, it’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?” 

Peach turned and Jake’s gut twisted. She had been crying, eyes rimmed with red, tears dried on her cheeks. “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Jake checked his phone for any messages but found the display empty. 

Peach fiddled anxiously with the sleeve of her shirt before speaking. “Maybe you can answer that.” Jake frowned, trying to understand what was happening.

“Answer what?”

“Whatever happened to make you stop being a part of this relationship.” Jake’s insides twisted, eyes widening at Peach’s words. 

He shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I don’t understand.”

She laughed then, a hollow sound, nothing like her laugh that Jake loved. It was cold, empty. 

“You’re never here Jake. And when you are, it’s like you’re a thousand miles away. Do you even remember when we last sat down and talked? When we last kissed, when you last touched me?” There was no anger in her words, only an exhaustion that seeped into his bones. He opened his mouth to speak but words failed him and he just stared.

Peach sighed, pushing the chair back. “I’m tired Jake. And I don’t think I can do this anymore.” It felt like someone had driven a knife directly into his chest, twisting it slowly as he struggled to breath. Only now did he notice the packed bags in the doorway.

“What are you saying?” He managed to find his voice, but it sounded nothing like him. 

“I’m saying I’m tired. Tired of waiting for you to come home. Tired of being pushed aside. Tired of living like this.” Peach moved as she spoke, slowly manoeuvring around him. And that’s when it hit him. She was leaving. 

His brain finally kicked in and he straightened up, wiping the tears that had started to fall away. “Please don’t do this.” 

She only looked at him, biting her lower lip, something she always did when she was feeling anxious. 

He spoke again, stepping closer. “Please. Don’t go. You gotta let me fix this. Please. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.” Jake reached for her, only to have his hands slapped away. 

Peach shook her head, eyes watering once again. “You can’t fix this Jake. I’m sorry.” She moved to get around him but he blocked her path, getting in her way. Anything to stop her from walking out on him.

“Baby please. Don’t leave me. You’re all I have.” He pleaded with her, swallowing back the bile.

“I’m tired of being your second choice Jake. I’m tired of not being enough.” Peach took another step back and Jake felt like a thousand spears pierced his heart. 

“You are enough! You’re more than enough. You’re everything!” He’d beg on his bare knees if it made her stay. He couldn’t lose her. 

“We both know that isn’t true. If I were, we wouldn’t be in this situation. If I was enough for you, you’d at least try.”

He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears now, letting them fall freely. “I’ll do anything, please. Just don’t leave me.” He begged, grasping onto her shirt sleeve in one last effort to keep her from leaving. 

Peach whispered his name, reaching out to gently pry his hand from her soft material. “Jake. Stop.” 

But he couldn’t stop. Not when he was about to lose everything that mattered to him.

“I’ll quit my job. Is that what you want? Because I’ll do it. I’ll turn in my wings. And we could go to Vegas, and we’d get married. Like you’ve always wanted. And we could have a ceremony later. We can start trying for kids. Whatever you want.” He sank to his knees, tugging on her hips until his face was flushed against her stomach, his words spoken against the cotton of her shirt. 

His tears soaked the material but he didn’t care. If he had to grovel and beg, that’s what he would do. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please give me another chance. Give me a chance to fix this, please.”

Peach’s hands settled on his shoulders. “I’d never ask you to turn in your wings. Flying is who you are. It’s your life Jake.” She was pushing against his shoulder, but Jake clung to her, refusing to let go. 

“You’re my life. I’m nothing without you. I don’t care about flying if I don’t have you. Nothing matters without you. I know those last months have been rough but I can change. I can do better.” Jake thought about the ring he had hidden away in his spare flight suit upstairs, about the list with baby names he had taped on the inside of his locker. 

His body ached, stomach twisting and he wondered if this was what dying felt like. 

Peach pushed against him again and he had no choice but to let go. He scrambled to his feet, reaching out with frantic hands to stop her from taking a step back. 

“Baby please.” 

She smiled sadly, hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Goodbye Jake. Fly safe.” She tenderly brushed his hair back, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek before turning around. 

He followed her out on the porch, begging her to stop, to come back inside. But it was futile and Jake could only watch as she packed her bags into her car, taking his entire heart with her. 

The pain as his knees slammed into the concrete was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. Sobs wracked his body as he desperately tried, and failed to catch his breath. He didn’t even feel the pain as his knuckles met the ground, over and over until they were raw and bleeding. 

The ringing in his ears got louder and louder, Jake curling in on himself. 

She was gone. And it was all his fault.

Tag List: @wildbornsiren @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @princessphilly @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @whoreforseresin​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @sylviebell​ please let me know if you want to be added/removed

#fe writes #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin angst

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 4 all chapters

Winter is making you stir crazy, so on your day off you decide to go for a hike on one of the copious mountain trails around your town. There’s still snow on the ground, and in the middle of the day you seem to have the woods nearly to yourself.

You like being by yourself.

The mountain is quiet, but for the wind in the trees and some determinedly chipper little birds chirping.

You nearly have a heart attack when you round a bend, and there is a large figure in all black. For a split-second you mistake him for a bear, before you realize it’s Mr. Wick.

“Jesus, you scared me,” you huff.

“Sorry,” he says, seeming genuinely apologetic.

“Where’s Dog?”

“I left him at home. Too cold.”

You like it, that he considered Dog’s comfort in the matter.

With a small frown he peers around you. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. I hike alone all the time.”

You hope he will spare you the lecture, even if it secretly pleases you that he is a little worried for you.

He sighs a little. “I wish you wouldn’t. You never know who you might run into out here.”

You cant your head, finding this statement slightly ironic, considering.

“I can handle myself. You’re looking at a junior Tae Kwon Do black belt, I’ll have you know.” The latter you deliver with a sassy grin, because even though it has come in useful on a few occasions, in the real world you know it doesn’t mean shit. You were just a child, and it was a long time ago.

This actually succeeds in winning you what is nearly a full-on smile, for him. “Well then. Remind me not to piss you off.”

The thought is absurd to you. You’re no willowy waif by far, but you can tell right now that this totally fit—and fine as fuck, if you’re being honest—man could snap you like a twig, if he wanted to. You snort in answer.

“I’m sure it won’t come up.”

He levels you with a long look then, that you don’t entirely understand.  

“So…you like hiking in the cold?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“I guess I’m used to it,” he answers. “I was born in Belarus.”

“Oh.” There is no hint of accent in his words. You reason he must have come to America at a very young age.

“And you?”

“I was not born in Belarus,” you confirm. It’s his turn to huff, and your heart skitters in your chest when he takes a step closer. He veritably looms over you, so tall and broad shouldered. You have a moment of clarity in which it really sinks in that you are totally alone out on the quiet mountain with this man, and he really could do anything he wants with you.

The thought titillates more than it disturbs, and maybe you have a screw loose.

“You’re a cheeky girl, aren’t you?”

There is a look in his eye, and for a moment you think he’s going to bend down to you. Crazier yet, you would have let him. But his hands remain in the pockets of his expensive down coat. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make you feel as though he’s touched you, and you narrowly suppress a shudder.

It’s not because of the crisp mountain wind.  

“So I’ve heard. I don’t like the cold,” you answer his real question. “But I do like the snow.”

He frowns a little. “How does that work out?”

“It’s an aesthetic thing.”

“Ah. Your artist’s eye.”

“I guess.”

“You’re very good.”

It is, in fact, freezing cold out there in the woods, but suddenly you feel warm, standing there with him, basking in his praise.

“You’re kind.”

He tilts his head, his hair falling in his eyes. “Not really,” he says, and it almost sounds like a warning. “But maybe, just for you. Can I walk with you?”

You were enjoying your solo excursion, but you find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to turn down the opportunity to spend time with your mysterious but favorite customer from the coffee shop.  

“Ok. Are you making the loop?”

“Partly. My house isn’t far from the north fork of the trail.”

“Ah.” He must have just moved into one of the insanely expensive mansions tucked back in the woods, you reason.

It’s too cold to stand around and talk, so you hit the trail together. His legs are long, boy are they, but he matches his pace to stay with you. You don’t say much, but you enjoy each other’s company in the outdoors. You follow the line of a steep bluff on one side, old growth trees towering all around. It’s not a sunny day, but still bright from the freshly fallen snow. Later the forecast calls for more.

When you slide a little on an icy rock he makes a grab for you, and suddenly you do find yourself tucked in against the hard line of his side. It wasn’t entirely necessary—you’re wearing knobby boots, and you would have landed on your feet.

But it is endearing that he was worried for you.

The strength in his grip squeezing you steals your breath away. You only manage to get out a wheezy, “Thanks.”

He acknowledges your gratitude with a grumble, releasing you almost as quickly as he grabbed you. You get the sense that he is annoyed, somehow. You, however, know the memory of his body against yours is going to haunt your dreams that night.

Suddenly too warm, you unzip your jacket a little.

When you reach the trail marker for the north fork that will take him closer to home you look at him, expecting to say goodbye, certain he will be glad to be rid of you. But he keeps walking. “I'll get you to your car,” he says. 

“You don't have to do that.” 

“I want to,” he insists. “If you don't mind?” He’s softened again to you, for whatever reason, and you swear his moods could give you whiplash. Having this man to yourself for another mile isn’t the worst way you've spent an afternoon. 

“Ok, if you insist.” 

When you get to the parking lot, there is a shifty pair of guys hanging out in a beat-up Dodge van that might as well have “FREE CANDY” spray painted on the side panel. You look to John curiously, who is staring down the driver with a hard look in his eyes. Even though that look isn’t directed at you, it gives you a little chill.

The man behind the wheel confers with his bearded companion, and they decide to start up and chug away. 

You feel like you narrowly missed a passing danger, like a shark swum past your hiding spot in the reef.

“How... did you know?” 

“Seen them around the past week or so. Maybe promise me no more solo hikes until they move on?” 

“Yeah. Ok.” Maybe they were just two guys down on their luck hanging out in a van…but they definitely gave you the creeps.

“Can I give you a lift home?” He would have miles to go, uphill, in the bitter cold otherwise. 

“Thanks.” 

You pause at your late model Rav4, kind of embarrassed. He drives a very nice black Range Rover, and though your car is a soldier, bless all four of its cylinders, it kind of looks like a piece of shit. “Um...sorry,” you say, moving some books out of the passenger seat.

However, he seems non plussed. 

“No worries. Thanks for the ride.”

You start the engine, letting it warm up a little. He rubs his hands together, blowing on his fingers. “So…do you pick up strangers from the woods often?”

You laugh quietly. “You’re not that strange.”

 He tilts his head in that way that makes you feel unnervingly seen.

“You don't really know me, y/n.”

Why do you feel like he's trying to warn you?

“So... you’re saying I should make you walk back up the mountain in the freezing cold?” 

His low laughter tugs at your insides, making unbidden warmth spread through you.

“No, now that I'm here that really doesn't sound appealing.” 

You dare to wonder if he means here, with you.

“Ok then.” You put the Rav4 in drive. “Where are we headed?”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #john wick fic #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick imagine

[diabolikpersonals]

sorry for such a broad question but in your opinion is laito a well written character relative to everyone in diabolik? i really Want to learn more about him but i also dont want to subject myself to All That and i just want to know if he's worth reading about or just a pile of interesting plot threads thrown together for shock factor and unfulfilled thematically.

like my current personal opinion (may be wrong) is that i dont feel satisfied with the idea of yui's love or proactiveness fixing laito in any way because it doesn't mesh well with the actual ideas surrounding his character and unpacking that love is not poison goes beyond romantic love or a singular place of understanding. additionally it doesn't feel earned it feels like a chore for the player to trudge though for the sake of reading. i dont want to read laito's story that bad if it's the case yet im intrigued by the things offered by his character like the processing of the deeply visceral way csa shatters who you are

I wanted to wait till I finished his CL to answer so I'd be fully caught up with laito's routes, but that'll take too long so.....!! I might change my answer later!! lmao

[tw laito stuff, csa and suicide, yeah]

I do think Laito's a well-written character but his stuff is really difficult to get through if you have certain triggers, so it's tough to recommend. Even beyond the csa stuff, Laito is in a real hurry to die and he makes several attempts throughout the series. There's a certain unique sort of awfulness, at least for me, involving scenes where a character fails a suicide attempt and then get even more upset and desperate about it. So I understand what you mean when you say you're not excited about putting yourself through it. They were the hardest routes for me to get through too :')

A lot of earlier games suffer from endings that are like "And the two lived happily ever after, and we're not gonna unpack all that stuff!" and Laito's routes are no exception, but if you can look past that and make it to LE, I wouldn't say that Laito gets fixed. He has an ending similar to Ayato's that's like, it feels like we fixed everything but in reality we couldn't overcome the core issue! They really seem to believe that Laito absolutely can't be happy or live a normal life the way he is now. He has to die and/or rewrite his memories to be comfortable loving someone. It's up to your tastes if that's satisfying or not, but I kind of love the bittersweetness of LE endings, and the way they feel like a happy ending until you think about them a little too hard.

What's interesting is that Yui's purehearted love often hurts Laito more than it helps him. He responds to love, from Yui or from his family members, with revulsion. There's jealousy when he interacts with straightforward characters like Yui or Ayato, like "If only I could be as simple and pure as you, but nope, I can't." He's very self-aware for a diaboy, which only makes it hurt more when he keeps arriving at the conclusion that he's rotten. He definitely makes progress, which is really satisfying to see, like how he gradually allows Ayato back in his life emotionally. But as of right now, the end of his arc is so, like, "I tried, really I did! But my perspective on love is fucked and I need a hard reset! Maybe I'll be normal in the next life but definitely not this one!! Bye!"

...So, it's hard to say if you'll be happy with it. I see a lot of mixed opinions concerning the LE endings. They often give the diaboy what he wants but not what he needs, so you're left going, "Wait, I don't know about this...!" A lot of people really hate these endings, but they actually get more interesting to me the more conflicted they make me feel...and oh boy, was I conflicted about this one! :'D

If it sounds interesting to you, too, and you don't mind some pretty brutal scenes along the way, give Laito's routes a try. His HDB will definitely make you mad though lol

#text

[yuri-is-online]

Call me tragedy anon w the way i slurp that shit up real. Okay but in all /srs i'm a firm believer that most love stories or stories in /gen in TWST are mainly happy love stories tragedy? Never heard of them!!!

But i think most would be more fascinated to figure out thats its popular in Yuu's world. Like why??? Don't people not like being happy more than sad? and its true!! But there's always something cathartic about well-written tragedies (imo at least) and people enjoy that feeling. Personally the media i enjoy and stick to me the most are usually the ones that have open ended or ambiguos endings that leave a bittersweet after taste in your mouth. Something about retrospecting and finding peace that yes even though it never ended well, there was happiness, or maybe if not happiness then maybe peace to be found in a story like that. The love was still there!!!! Do you understand!!!???

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I want to thank you for sending me this on valentine's day. It is so fitting I should have answered immediately.

Welcome to the stage tragedy annon! W takes in this ask right here your brain is massive.

Orpheus can never be with Eurydice ever again, but the two loved each other!! Icarus will always die but the sun kissed his face!!! Do you understand!!!!!!!!!!

I UNDERSTAND I AM THINKING I AM FEELING I AM CRYING BUT I FEEL SO FULFILLED!!!!!!!!!!

I really like happy endings and have a hard time playing the bad end in otomes but one of my favorites, Birushana has these tragic endings that I have done some of and GOD. The image of Shungen screaming at Tomomori as he cradles Shanao's dead body, saying he can't just take her away as Tomomori prepares to jump into the ocean and drown with her only for him to say "You misunderstand, she is taking me." .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. i am crying, screaming, throwing up etc. and so on because fucking damn that's what it's about. The love is so real it has to endure even when everything else is gone.

I think that Idia might find some morbid comfort in that concept which is why I mentioned the Orpheus and Eurydice connection in his long fic musing. I don't think he would find it romantic necessarily, but certainly comforting. Like at least by Yuu's weird standards his curse isn't the major set back he thought it would be and even if things end badly they will still see it as worth it? That's weird, odd, and something he outwardly wants to make fun of but not something he really can when that's what he has come to believe too after his overblot.

Jade and Azul both work really well for this too. Azul because he believes love is inherently exploitable, so the idea that stories end badly in your world just further cements his own bias. The idea that you would consider the bad ending to make things no less real or valuable though, THAT he would need some time with. What do you mean Orpheus fails to save Eurydice is the point of the story? He has a hard time coping with the idea of losing already, adding that into romance as a selling point doesn't make sense from a consultant's point of view. You want to win in the end no? Not just be left ugly crying alone. Jade on the other hand... I just like to see him eat shit on something like this tbh. "Oh I would never do something like that, what an idiot for looking back-" Jade would actually show up at the gates of the underworld and he would still look back because he needs you to be there exactly like the myth foretold and he would be cursing fate the entire time.

I feel like I leave Floyd out of these sort of things so I want to add him here because I feel like he would dismiss the idea of tragedy as a good thing but not because he like. Doesn't think it doesn't exist or something he just doesn't care. He already knows the time you spend together will be enjoyable, and if it ends with death or with him going too close to the sun, well that was the point wasn't it? Kind of like he gets the point but not because of the example given. It's also why I could see him actually successfully making it through to a happy ending. He has this line in Chapter 7 when Lilia is scolding the Octatrio that made me scream because of how good of a job the VA did with it:

And if he says his place is a happy ending I believe he'd make it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #i was prepared to write and post like #actual fic and then an inconvenience occurred #god i should think more about tragedies with the boys #i have some thoughts about a jean of arc coded yuu and rollo #and then like some stuff with azul involving necromancy #don't worry about it