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#today felt like the actual first day of spring
crippled-peeper · 1 month
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Today I went to the woods and encountered a stunning Mourning Cloak. It’s the state butterfly of Montana (I’m all the way over in Wisconsin). My mom was born & raised in Montana and died last fall.
Im not very spiritual, but even before I identified it I felt like it was a sign of some kind 😌
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eveninginparis · 1 year
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deepestnightcolor · 2 months
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Hi I love your writing!! Not sure if you take requests so please ignore this if you don’t!! What if Sam and reader were dating and then reader finds out about Sam/Penny liking each other in the past so they get kinda insecure and Sam reassures them
nsjhdwj thank you so, so much! <3
It really means the world to me to hear it! :) Thank you so much for your request as well, it was absolutely LOVELY to write. I hope you will enjoy it! Have a lovely day, dear anon~ <3
(Needless to say, I do take requests >:))
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader
ᴡᴄ: 1889 words
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: a lil jealousy, a lil insecurity. it is mostly fluff, though. gentle kisses and all~
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☾ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀꜱ ☽
The relationship between Sam and you had begun to blossom in the fall of your first year in Pelican Town. It had all started out quite simple; playing pool with the blond and Sebastian in the saloon turned into hanging out and playing video games together. Taking turns trying hard levels bled into fleeting touches and looking at one another longer than necessarily needed; until it all ended in a chaste kiss behind near the river. It hadn’t taken Sam much longer to show up on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, asking you to officially be with him.
Ever since, your relationship had grown like the crops on your fields – filling your heart with a deep, comfortable feeling of contentment and calm, something no one ever had managed up until the town. However, whenever Sam walked up to you, looking at you with these deep blue eyes filled with excitement and genuine happiness and smiling at you as if you were the first warm day in spring, you felt like you were at the right place, at the right time.
However, there was gossip in town. Little whispers, really, nothing you wouldn’t have expected living in a sleepy community like this. The gossip here was nothing more than a fleeting thought that was spoken out; here one moment, gone the next.
You had always promised yourself to not let these whispers stick to you, to just smile and forget about it. And so far you had done well; the most attention you had spent on anything that wasn’t rock solid was wondering how someone would come up with something like that.
In all seriousness, you just didn’t care for it. It rolled off your back like droplets of rain rolled off your raincoat.
You didn’t think a simple visit to Pierre’s would change that. You were standing in front of one of the shelves in the far back, looking at the different seasonal seeds in stock, considering trying out something new on the fields when you heard Marnie’s voice. It was hushed as it usually was when she was gossiping. Any other day, you would have just turned back to the bags in your hand, but today, you heard your boyfriend’s name. Much to your shame, your ears perked up almost immediately, and even worse, you actually tilted your head a little to catch what Marnie was saying.
“Yes, I am surprised he didn’t end up with Ms. Penny. The crushes they had were quite obvious, even my nephew picked up on it,” she hummed.
Another voice now answered with a hum, but when they talked, you were able to identify it as Mayor Lewis’s. “Even my old eyes picked up on it! I saw them at the bridge often, and I always thought Ms. Penny just waited for him to make the first move and she would have been all his.”
Your heart sank. Sam had had a crush on Penny? You furrowed your brows as you thought back, trying to remember if you ever had picked up on anything like that. Then it hit you – they had often hung out by the bridge together, and if you were honest, you had always felt a weird tension sizzle in the air between them.
Marnie again: “It is quite a shame, really. Jas told me that Ms. Penny looks a little sad when they pick up little Vincent. I think they would have made a good couple; she could have taught him a lot, I bet.”
“And maybe he would have helped her to get out of her shell a little. I thought they were a good match as well.”
You couldn’t take any more. You stepped out from between the shelves and almost ran to the till, slamming the bags onto the counter. “Just these, please,” you smiled at Pierre, loud enough for the hushed whispers behind you to stop.
“Thanks,” you murmured after you had been rung up, fleeing the general store without as much as a look in the two chatterboxes’ direction.
You had genuinely wanted to let go of what you had heard today. After all, Sam was with you now, and he seemed genuinely happy with you. Even now in his sleep, he was looking peaceful and content; his arm stretched out towards you as usual. Whenever you and Sam slept together, he had to touch you in some way. You didn’t mind that, in fact, it usually calmed you and lulled you into a deep slumber. Tonight, it didn’t help.
You had started thinking as soon as your conversation with Sam had faded as his breathing had grown heavier; a clear sign that he was drifting off to sleep.
Had you gotten in the middle of something between Sam and Penny?
Would he maybe be better off dating her?
Would he be happier with her?
Why did he choose to be with you when there seemingly was a spark, big enough for others to notice?
Penny, in all honesty, was not only a beautiful human but had an incredible personality at that. She was a catch, no doubt. Maybe you had ruined the best relationship Sam could have ever had, because what could you offer? You were a farmer, nothing more, nothing less. Doing work many considered as nothing but simple and dirty. Whereas Penny was always clean and well-kempt: being noble enough to try and give the town’s kids the best possible education. Trying to give your boyfriend’s little brother the best possible chances, for crying out loud!
Holy shit, you had probably ruined Sam’s life, what did he even see in you?
“Babe?” a groggy voice next to you asked, making you tense up. You had been so lost in your whirlwind of thoughts that you hadn’t even realized how much you had been tossing and turning. You tried to stay still, even out your breathing. Maybe he would just go back to sleep.
But you knew Sam better than that. And just as you had expected, two strong arms slowly snaked around you, pulling you into a warm chest. Sam’s hand found your hair, long fingers running through it just mere moments later. Sam knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself, and he knew what to do when you were nervous. And even now in your state of inner turmoil it helped; you relaxed into his arms, and for a split second, your head was quiet.
“What’s wrong, baby? Bad dream?”
That was your chance. If you said yes now, he would probably cuddle you, caressing your hair until you fell asleep. Sleep sounded nice right about now.
“Did I ruin your chances with Penny? Would you rather be with her?”
The caressing stopped, and you could feel the mattress behind you shift. Was he leaving now?
The light switched on, and before you could say something else, you saw Sam’s face hover right over yours. His rough hand was placed on your cheek now, thumb caressing the skin gently as he peered into your eyes. All sleep had vanished now, replaced by honest concern and confusion.
 “Why would you think something like that?”
You bit around on your lower lip, looking away in embarrassment. “I heard Marnie and Lewis talk at Pierre’s today…They…they talked about the crush you had on Penny and the crush she had on you and how you would be a great match and how she is sad when she picks up Vincent now and-“
Noting how stupid you sounded, you stopped yourself, taking in a deep breath and not being able to stop yourself, “and it had me wondering, because I saw you hang out as well and Penny is so beautiful and kind and noble and she would have a good influence on you! And what am I, just a farmer, you have seen me in dirty clothes more often than in clean ones and-“
You looked at Sam helplessly, tears in the corner of your eyes. “And I just…Why did you choose me when you could have had her, Sam? Why didn’t you choose her? You could have…I…” The blond looked at you, patiently waiting for you to finish speaking.
Only when your stream of words had seemingly ceased did he lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Because Penny isn’t you, my love,” he murmured against the plush of your lips, looking into your eyes. His thumb was still caressing your cheek, allowing his other hand to lock together with yours.
“Yes, Penny is a good-hearted woman, and yes, I might have had a crush on her.  But you touched my heart in a way no one ever has. I fell in love with you, and I mean all of you. Your eyes; the way they light up when you’re proud or happy. The way you smile and the many different smiles you have. I love every single one. I love that you get dirty every day while doing what you love. I love that you give it your all every day.”
Sam kissed your nose carefully, his eyes peering into yours again.
“I love how careful you are with everything, especially with things that are dear to you. Yoba, I love the way your breathing sounds when you are next to me, I love the way you ramble to yourself when you are working on something and think no one can hear you. I love the random sounds you make. I love seeing you. I love being around you. I love you being mine. I love you.”
Sam kissed your lips again, holding onto your face. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hiding your face in his chest. The blond laid back down, carefully pulling you on top of him. He drew random patterns onto your back; mostly hearts and clouds and little stars.
“I remember the first actual date we went on. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so close to just throwing up. Sebastian kept teasing me, asking me why I was nervous, I had been to the beach so often…” he kissed your head again, holding you a little tighter to his chest. “And then I saw you there. All bundled up in your winter clothes, and I asked myself why I had been so stupid to suggest a date on the beach in winter. But when you smiled at me…Shit, that was the moment I just knew that you were my one and only. And I wouldn’t want to live a life in which you weren’t.”
You sniffled a little, but smiled a little as you thought back to the date. You had, in fact, asked yourself why Sam would want to meet up at the beach in winter, but you could have never allowed yourself to pass up the opportunity.
You closed your eyes; taking in your boyfriend’s scent. He smelled like cotton and a hint of vanilla. Honestly, you found he smelled like home.
You could feel Marnie’s and Lewis’s voices quieten down, as did your worries.
Sam could feel you relax in your arms and slowly lifted your chin with two fingers.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Sam.”
“And tomorrow I will skate on the Mayor’s property.”
“No, Sam."
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bloodmoonmuses · 2 months
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clover | mark lee
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genre: mark lee x reader, friends to lovers, college au, fluff :)
wc: 2.3k
warnings: some swearing, mentions of alcohol
summary: mark collects four leaf clovers. when you help him find his hundredth clover, mark declares you his good luck charm.
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If asked whether or not you believe in fate, you’d probably say no. You found the concept of it unnerving- a predetermined future that one must simply accept… How boring. What you believed in more was the butterfly effect- the chaos of it, the lack of control, the overlapping of timelines. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings could cause a hurricane. It’s the little things that have the biggest effect.
The first time you hang out with Mark Lee is per the forgetfulness of your best friend, Johnny. The three of you were supposed to meet for a group project, but it slipped his mind. You knew of Mark, of course, but never really hung outside of group settings. 
Mark is a butterfly- fluttering, social, beautiful and delicate. You wanted to pin and press his wings like a taxidermist, preserving their beauty in eternal serenity. Though most times, he felt too golden to pin down. He was simply meant to be free.
The two of you lie under a tree in the campus’ courtyard, skimming your textbook for more information. Mark sat quietly, plucking blades of grass out of the ground. When your vision blurs, signaling you’re no longer absorbing information, you close your textbook.
“Think he’s still coming?” Mark inquires.
“Nah. I texted him, but he hasn’t responded,” you say as you check your phone once more for confirmation.
“Hm,” Mark closes his textbook as well. “ Wanna call it a day?” 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Spring is well under way, but today is warmer than usual. It’s actually nice enough to be outside. You linger on your faded picnic blanket, lying on your back with your eyes closed, while Mark gathers his things. Sunlight filters through the leaves, making abstractly shaped shadows dance across your chest and stomach. You trace the warmth with your fingers.
“I can consolidate our research into a document if you want,” Mark pipes. You thought he had left already.
You crack open an eye. “We’re still talking about the project?”
He looks at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. “I mean, that’s what I’m here for.”
You crack a grin, scoffing at Mark’s eagerness to actually work. “Didn’t know you were such a goody-two-shoes.” 
“I’m not,” he contests, pouting slightly.
He’s so cute. You want to stuff him with fluff and tie a bow on his pretty head. No wonder everyone babies him so much. His eyes simply demand such.
“I’m just messing with you,” you say. “Sounds like a plan. I can make the slideshow, if you want.”
“Cool.”
Mark starts to leave before returning to his seat and asking, “Hey, ______. Why haven’t we hung out before?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. You have plenty of friends. Didn’t think you’d need more.”
You look at Mark, sitting criss-cross on the corner of your blanket. He has a pile of clovers on his leg, and he continues to sift through the grass in pursuit of more. He plucks another, identifying it as a four leaf clover, and places it on your belly.
“Looks like I just made another. It’s been weeks since I’ve found one.”
“A four leaf clover?” Your fingers play with the floweret, watching as it rises and falls with your breaths. Mark’s eyes follow the movement as well.
“Yeah, I collect them. You’re, like, my good luck charm now. Dude, it’s fate.”
“Do I get a say in the matter, dude, or does fate take precedence?” you joke, asking with a giggle.
Mark beams at you, eyes crinkling into half moons. “Wanna be my good luck charm?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…”
Mark grabs his backpack, taking out a sheet of parchment paper and a book. Then, he takes the clover from you, placing it in between two sheets. Finally, he places the clover in the middle of the book. He closes it, giving the book a firm squeeze, and puts it back in his bag.
“Pressing it for later,” he says.
The second time you hang out with Mark Lee is per the drunkenness of your best friend, Johnny. You told yourself you’d stop going to parties with him. It seemed that every time you did, you were relegated to designated driver. So there you sat, on the stairs of the back porch, hoping Johnny would pass out in the next hour or so. However, you knew this wouldn’t happen any time soon. Johnny’s alcohol tolerance is annoyingly high. You decide to enjoy the fresh air regardless.
House parties this big were conducted for only one reason- to get everyone in attendance as fucked up as possible (and assuage their guilt in doing so with the presence of other fucked up people). A girl, a twig-like thing, does a keg stand in the middle of the backyard. She nearly topples over entirely, but manages to return to the ground upright before immediately dissolving into a heap of bones and flesh.
On your left, you watch a smarmy frat boy sidle up to another girl, caging her against the house. She’s drinking him up, flashing the most obvious “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen. On your right, a guy blows chunks into a bush. Such is the dichotomy of life. 
The back door of the house swings open and the music that’s blasting from inside temporarily bleeds into the backyard. When it closes, the sound is muffled, making you feel as though you’re underwater. You look up to see Mark, surprisingly. The two of you haven’t spoken since the group project. He sits next to you, muttering a brief hello. 
“Not your crowd?” he says, noticing the dissatisfaction on your face. 
“Johnny’s my crowd, but he’s hammered.”
Mark scoffs. “Sounds about right.”
You look at Mark. He seems mostly sober, save for the faint dusting of pink adorning his cheeks. “Are you drinking tonight?” you ask him.
Mark tips his beer towards you, taking another swig before saying, “Just the one. I have a paper to write tomorrow. You?”
“Designated driver.” You’ve been nursing a cup of lemonade. You feel like a prude.
“Daaaang.” He drags out the word, following it with a low whistle. “That sucks, dude.”
“Needed some fresh air?” you ask him.
“Nah, just wanted to catch up with my good luck charm. Saw you walking out." 
Your heart beats a bit faster, though you're not sure why. “Have I been doing a good job?”
“I get to be here outside with you instead of in that hellhole. So, I’d say yes.”
You end up driving Johnny and Mark home that night. Apparently, his designated driver (Jaemin) bailed on him. Mark sits in the passenger seat while Johnny is passed out in the back. It’s quiet, moonlight seeping into the car in a hazy glow. It illuminates Mark’s side profile and you sneak glances at him in your periphery. He’s visibly fighting off sleep, head lolling to the side then suddenly jerking to attention every few minutes.
When he does this a third time, you say, “You can sleep. We’re about ten minutes away.”
“Wanna make sure you’re safe,” murmurs Mark. His voice is gravelly, the sentence barely croaking out of him. “Don’t wanna leave you alone.”
“I’ll survive. I’ll wake you up when we get there.” With your permission, he drifts off to sleep, lips slightly parted. 
When you arrive at the boys’ dorm, Johnny stirs lightly as he feels the car has come to a stop. You shake Mark’s shoulder, waking him from his slumber.
You walk up to Mark’s room, the two of you lugging Johnny with much difficulty. He’s practically dead weight, wasted enough to the point of not being able to hold himself up. When you finally manage to get him on Mark’s couch, you’re winded. You sit on the floor while Mark sits next to Johnny. 
“The only thing comforting me right now is the fact that he’s gonna wake up with a horrible hangover.”
At this, Mark laughs, his own chest heaving at the physical exertion of transporting a Johnny-sized human.
“Thanks for helping me bring him up,” Mark says.
“No problem. Take a video of him suffering for me please.”
“Anything for my good luck charm. Speaking of…” Mark quickly retreats to his room, returning with a small wooden box in his hands. He places it in your lap.
You open the box to see it full of four leaf clovers encased in resin. He takes out a heart shaped one and hands it to you.
“This one is yours. The hundredth clover in my collection.”
“I’m honored.” You cradle the preserved clover in your hands, watching the light bounce off of its shiny surface. The moment overwhelms you, chest constricting with adoration of the simple gesture.
“I was thinking of making it into a bracelet. Then you can harness your lucky powers wherever you go. Like a superhero- or something like that.”
He smile at you, a toothy and boyish grin, and your inhibitions seem to melt away. Perhaps you could be persuaded into believing in fate. Making him happy in this way feels like destiny. You would do so forever if given the chance.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
The third time you hang out with Mark Lee, Johnny isn’t much of a factor. Then the fourth time, and the fifth, sixth and seventh- until one night, Mark asks you on a date. You think. You’re not really sure at this point. 
You’re at his apartment, something that occurs more often following the party incident, killing time with him and (of course) Johnny. The three of you are supposed to be having a movie night, but can’t agree on a film. In lieu of such, you’re simply arguing about movies.
“It’s ridiculous,” Johnny says.
You cross your arms. “It’s high art.”
“Do not refer to Twilight as ‘high art.’”
“The first one has an indie feel to it. The too-blue coloring grading? Imagine stumbling upon that at Sundance or South by Southwest. Those film bitches would be all over it if not for the negative connotation of pseudo vampire smut.”
“Never seen it,” Mark says. His comment gets drowned out, however, as you continue to rant at Johnny.
“The series only got bad because they gave the sequels to a male director.”
“That is not the only reason.”
Johnny’s phone rings. “It’s Jaehyun. Jaemin left him at a party.”
Johnny gathers his belongings and exits. He attempts something of a wink towards Mark, which is awkward because 1.) You see it, and 2.) It looks more like some dust flew into his eyes than a cheeky gesture.
“Be back in a bit,” Johnny says. 
“What was that about?” you ask. Mark is beet red. 
“Nothing,” Mark sputters. “So.”
“So…”
“Twilight. Movies. You like both of those things, right?” Mark rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, swinging his arm in tandem. He can’t really make eye contact with you, but he’s trying, blinking rapidly as his eyes flicker around the room. 
When the silence becomes unbearable you say, “Is there a reason you’re acting like we’ve never met before?”
“Just answer the question.” He sighs, face planting into his palm.
“I mean- Marginally. I mostly just like making Johnny angry-”
“Would you like to go to the movies with me?”
“Yeah, I’d love to.”
It’s raining. Mark is soaking wet, green hoodie soiled. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly with dripping wings, dejectedly fluttering in an attempt to dry itself off. Funnily, the sun was beaming brightly just a few hours ago. If you hadn’t checked the weather ahead of time, you’d probably be drenched as well. 
“Forgot my umbrella,” says Mark as he walks up to you.
“Clearly.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“Guess I’m not as lucky as you thought.”
“Impossible.”
“Wanna just go back to your place?” you say as you pat his shoulder.  “Then you can get changed.”
You return to Mark’s apartment, making two cups of chamomile tea. When Mark exits his room, he sits on the couch. There’s enough room for at least three people in between the two of you. When you move to sit closer, Mark literally flinches.
His right hand is clasped tightly into a fist, quivering from the force with which Mark is holding it shut. 
“Okay Mark. What’s wrong?” You reach out to him, placing your hand on top of his closed one.
He averts your gaze. “I don’t know how I managed to fuck this up-”
“The rain is out of your control, Mark. It’s not a big deal.”
Then suddenly, Mark opens his hand to reveal your clover, still in its heart shaped encasing, but now attached to a bracelet just as he said he would. The butterflies in your stomach fly up to your sternum. Your breath hitches there.
“I had this whole thing planned. After the movie I was gonna drive you home and it was supposed to be this whole thing that led up to me giving you the bracelet under the moon but then it started-”
“Mark. It’s okay!” you say with a laugh.
“ I like you, ______. I was gonna tell you that I like you.” Mark shuts his eyes tightly, practically wincing with each word. 
You lean over to kiss his cheek, accidentally giving him a butterfly kiss as well when you linger there. Mark giggles at the contact of your eyelashes, and you feel his face move against your lips.
“Well, it’s a good thing I like you too.”
Eventually, Mark’s lips meet yours, gently kissing you as though you’ll break. Warmth spreads throughout your entire body and you pull Mark closer in pursuit of more. Mark places a final peck on your nose and pulls away. He grabs the clover bracelet and ties it to your wrist. 
“Lucky me,” Mark says.
a/n: unedited and feedback is always appreciated!
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 24 days
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Soft Yandere Simp with CamGirl Reader, part 2
3, 2, 1, FINALLY IT’S TIME! He can hardly contain himself as he counts down the days until he finally gets to meet you in person. 
During your nightly video chats with him, which he’s grown to cherish dearly, you brought the idea of meeting up to his attention. You have no idea how happy he was that you brought it up on your own accord! 
Through some shady research, he already knows you are about 3 hours away from his home-city. It wouldn’t hurt to drive your way. He’d row a damn boat for hours if it meant getting to see you in person. 
The two of you decide on meeting up for a picnic, and then a shopping date at the mall closest to your vicinity. 
The night before the designated meetup, he sits at his computer desk studying everything he had learned about you over the past couple of months, lest he forgets something important.
He wishes he had a perfect memory, but he doesn’t. So he opted to writing down every fact he had ever learned about you in a special journal, dedicated to you and only you. All your likes, dislikes, blood type, height, weight (all three of which he had to break into your medical records to find) , favorite games, health issues, the amount of freckles on your face—every little detail he knew about you was written down, along with many, MANY hearts and grade-school doodles because he really can’t help it. You make him feel like a giddy kid again. 
Saturday morning. It’s show-time. He leaves thirty minutes early, dressed up and ready to tackle the day and meet the love of his life for the first time. He shoots you a text when he arrives (Did he ever mention his background screen was a photo of you?), nervously standing at your doorstep with a box of your favorite chocolates in hand, as well as a little vase with succulents in it, since you’re allergic to the pollen in actual flowers. 
You greet him with a hug and he just about melts in your arms, taking in your scent and rubbing his face into your beautiful locks. 
You’re pretty on camera, but nothing beats the real thing. You’re simply a goddess in the human form. He wishes he could take a photo to capture this moment forever, but his eyes will have to make do.
The drive to the park is an awkwardly quiet, but serene one. He swears you might be able to hear his heart pounding the entire ride, despite the music playing in the background (a playlist he made dedicated to you, obviously). When he glances over to the passenger seat, you’re gazing out the window with the cutest little smile on your face. He’s happy you’re happy. 
When the two of you arrive, he opens the trunk and removes all the supplies he brought to ensure today’s picnic would be great. He brought a giant blanket for the occasion, a small speaker for music, and even packed sandwiches and cookies that he had made himself, praying to god they would taste good. He wasn’t the greatest cook, so he watched about five different baking videos on how to make the perfect cookies. He hopes Youtube hasn’t failed him yet. 
He silently thanks whatever god lives in the sky when you take a bite into a cookie and compliment his baking skills. You take another bite and moan, making him feel ten times hotter than the warm spring day already made him feel. 
30 minutes pass and both his and your bellies are full. You lay down on the blanket, inviting him to do the same, and he nervously lays next to you. He relaxes once you intertwine your fingers with his. He thinks he’s never felt more at peace than in this moment, relaxing with you. The two of you talk about random things, watching the clouds in the sky morph into various shapes as time passes. 
Eventually, you both pack up and head to the mall. You buy him a figure from his favorite video game, and he gets you a new set of earrings. You laugh when his face turns fully red as you two walk into a store specializing in lingerie. 
He feels like he might faint from the sheer intense feelings he has when you ask him to pick something out, ‘just for his eyes only’ you say with a whisper into his ear. 
If he didn’t have such good self control he’d bang you in the try-on rooms right then and there. But no. He’d be a gentlemen. 
But be prepared for all his pent up longing when you two finally share an intimate time together. Let’s just say he has…plenty in store for you :) 
The date ends with you being dropped off back home. You invite him in for a drink, and chat a little more before it becomes late. He finds your yawns adorable, and he kisses you on the forehead before heading out for the night. 
He sincerely hopes you don’t ever find the tracking device he’s planted in your purse when you weren’t looking. He convinces himself it’s for peace of mind since he’ll know where you are, whenever you are. To protect you. That’s what good boyfriends do, right? 
Wait. Are you two even dating now? 
He wants to pull over on the drive home and just sit in utter defeat because his dumbass totally forgot to ask this. 
He sighs as he asks the dumbest, most cliche question in the world. He shoots you a text. 
“Hey, Y/N. What are we? (`・ω・´)”
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allidoishuynh · 2 months
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First post or maybe second. I think there's a picture of stuffed animals from like a decade ago. But let's see how this goes.
Jason is having his death day, Danny wants to help. (Xey and xeir are used as pronouns for an alien species for whom English can't really cut it)
The day sucked. It fucking sucked every single year. Every inch of his body ached and screamed in pain with each step, turn, and movement. He could hear the incessant, unending beeping wherever he went. Of course… it wasn't unending. It had very abruptly and very importantly ended, once upon a time. Which led him to the next reason this day, every single year, was so unbearably shitty: the sweats. It felt like he was boiling alive on the surface of the sun and no matter what he did, no matter how he distracted himself, he always remembered why. Why he had to feel this way every year and how each torment served as a memento of that day.
Jason continued walking down the street in the vain hope to clear his head when he heard a voice.
"Yeeeeesh!" A boy said, "I think I can taste that."
As Jason turned, he noticed the boy, thin, no older than 16, with stark white hair, was staring directly at him. Staring at him and slowly walking closer.
"Hey there man," he started, "believe me when I say: I know today sucks. I don't know how badly or what exactly you're dealing with, but I know it's bad."
The teen was now standing right in front of him and yet Jason felt glued to the spot, like something was keeping him there and that the very idea of brushing off this boy and continuing on his horrid stroll would be an act of blasphemy. The boy reached out a hand and placed it gently on Jason's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. And to his utter shock, Jason didn't shrug it off. In fact, he liked it? For the briefest of moments the aches subsided, the heat receded long enough to feel the cool spring breeze, and the beeping faded into nothing. He could swear even the pits were calm. No wait, they weren't just calm; they were cooing? Pushing him to lean into the young man's touch.
"Mind if I join you?" The boy asked.
"Please…" Jason spoke, somewhere between a whisper and a prayer.
And they started back along the walkway. Jason couldn't help but feel like the world had stopped as they made their way through Crime Alley.
"You know," the stranger began, "there's nothing wrong with asking, 'GOD, why the fuck is this happening to me?'"
"Sure, you know WHY it's happening. But it seems pretty unfair, no? I mean, we go through this absolutely awful thing once, and then we have to deal with the shadows of it once every three-sixty-five for the rest of eternity? That's just brutal."
Jason knew he had trusted every word spoken to him so far, though he couldn't be sure why. But the small, rational voice in his head now confirmed exactly what the subject of their conversation was.
"Well the truth is," he continued "it's not some command by on high. No one made these rules. It's just how the universe operates. I've actually met quite a few others like us, but they didn't live on a rock rotating around a yellow star. One of them lived their whole life on a space station flying through eternity. And yet even they feel this once every so often."
"See, the thing is, humans operate on an annual time scale. We don't feel greatly connected to something that happened exactly 7 or 28 or 30 days ago. But three hundred and sixty five days… and six-ish hours puts us in basically the exact same spot in the universe. You can feel it, the same air blowing in your face, the same setting sun, even the same clothes you were wear-"
Jason collapsed. He felt the air ripped out of his lungs as he coughed and choked and desperately tried to restart his breathing. Everything hurt, everything was hot, and the GODDAMN BEEPING-
And then it was gone. The only thing he felt was a gentle hand rubbing circles into his back. He turned to look up at the… Spirit? God? "Boy" felt wrong now.
"Ope," he said with a look of concern, "so the clothes were a really important part. Starting to get a picture of what's going on here."
Jason gratefully received a second hand positioned on his chest as he was lifted back into a standing position. Then he turned back to his companion and urged him to continue with his eyes.
"Well," he started again, "basically, we live on a yearly timescale. We don't count months or decades nearly the same way. But that's just us, if we were turtles and the only big happening we saw was that every 23 years a squall split the bay we lived in, you and I would have much longer between our episodes. One of the ones I talked to said xey only experienced it once every 91 years when a certain comet makes its pass through the night sky on xeir planet."
"Anyway," he continued, "what I'm trying to say is that the universe is a fucked up place. But it has rules. Action-reaction and all that. So if you want, I can try and help you get through this as someone more familiar with those rules than you are."
"Please," Jason pleaded, "anything that'll help. I just, I just want it to be easier, I don't need it to be gone; I just want it to be bearable."
"Cool," he responded "glad we're operating on more reasonable expectations. But first things first, I'm gonna need to take a closer look at your core and it's not going to be a particularly comfortable experience. Is that okay?"
Jason nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what this being had meant by "core." He just couldn't help but trust it.
That trust felt slightly misplaced when a hand passed directly into his chest and the arm it was attached to shifted to several angles as if searching for something.
"Aha!" Came the exclamation as the hand retracted, now carrying a small red… was that a page? Like from a book?
"Well this looks cool," the being said, "jeez a bad boy with the heart of a poet. Jazz would have a field day. But let me see here… oh! A protection obsession, just like me. Put 'er there bud."
Jason felt a deep reverberation in his chest as he shook hands with the entity. But everything felt wrong, like his very being had been separated from him so quickly and quietly that he hadn't even noticed. It felt as though he might've gone on blissfully unaware if he hadn't seen the page come out of his chest. And then the world returned. The sounds of the city came to life and when Jason looked down, the page was gone and the hand that held it was pressed gently and flatly back against his chest. The spirit reached down to grab Jason's hand before turning to continue down the street. 
After a few minutes, they came to a stop at a park.
"Why are we here?" Asked Jason.
"Dunno," came the reply, "but look closely and I'm sure you'll find the reason."
Jason scanned the park. The homeless resting in the bushes, the trees full of green leaves, several families playing, an old man feeding pigeons, and another walking his dog. His eyes suddenly snapped back to the families. One family. The mother. A young woman with a long, thin scar along her cheek.
He remembered those eyes, that hair. The scar was a fresh gushing wound when he had last seen it, but he remembered that too.
"Her," Jason said, knowing the one beside him understood, "I saved her. Or helped. Back when I was- back before I was- Fuck. Was that a decade ago? Jesus she has a ki-oh man kids. Wait, is she my age? Shit, she seemed so little then."
"Someone you protected," came the voice, "someone for whom you risked your life. Someone who looks at those kids and thanks the universe for putting you on her path every single day."
Jason felt a lump forming in his throat.
"See," the boy started, "I think that's what people forget. Not just other people but us too. It's not about carrying someone through the pouring rain to a hospital. It's definitely not about the praise or detractors or even seeing someone pull through in the end. It's about this. It's about-"
"Seeing them get the chance to flourish," Jason finishes, "watching the world step on them over and over and being there to help them back on their feet the one time it would've been too much on their own. And then knowing they thrived in the end."
"It's hard," the spirit said, "to remember where we really sit in the grand scheme. It can feel like we haven't done anything or that no matter what we do, we'll never be more than one single moment. The reason today sucks every year is important. But it doesn't define who you are or what you'll do. Go visit Mr. Friedrichson at 2:03 today. One of his old tenants is gonna visit and I think you'll enjoy the reminder of why your home is a place worth fighting for, even in spite of the name. Talk to Jenny and Liu. They'll be on 5th Street tonight and they'll talk your ear off about all the good you've done and what it really means to bleed Crime Alley. And can I make one actual request, even if you don't do the other stuff?"
"Of course," Jason replied, "anything."
"Enjoy yourself," the voice spoke, fading as if it was getting farther away. "He's gonna come by as per usual, bearing gifts. But I'm begging you, forgive yourself, even if just for today, and try to enjoy some time with your brother."
"Hey Jason!" Came a call from his other side, "I've been looking all over for you. I got your favorite."
Dick lifted a large brown bag, undoubtedly from the greatest Chinese restaurant in the world… if you asked Jason that is. Jason couldn't help but let a soft smile creep across his face, before quickly hiding behind a groan and a hand pressed into his forehead.
"I can't get one day's peace from you can I?" Jason said as he closed the distance and took the bag.
"Uhh," Dick said, stunned by the more playful remark. "I… I thought you might want some company and I had a free-"
"Thank you Dick," Jason cut in, "I know you take this day off every year and I know you spend it mostly with me screaming and throwing things at you."
"It's not-" he began.
"But this year," Jason continued, "let's do something better."
He lifted the bag to his face and deeply inhaled the fragrant smell of nostalgia and stir fried vegetables.
"You even remembered my special instructions," Jason said, "come on. I know a few places we can go to enjoy this."
Oh boy that was long. Uhh, I hope Tumblr does the whole button to expand this automatically. I kinda only got halfway through what I was gonna say and then burnt out so we skipped Mr. Friedrichson's moment. Anyway have a good one y'all. Oh right, Danny says "bud" and "ope" because he's Midwestern just like me. I don't take criticism (on the Midwestern thing).
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grimesgirll · 23 days
Text
somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.
it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.
after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.
the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.
it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.
rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.
you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.
from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.
the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.
all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.
daryl teases his friend about it.
“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”
daryl’s a hypocrite however.
even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.
it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.
the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.
then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.
you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.
pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.
“daryl!”
you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.
complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.
your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.
“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.
“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.
“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.
you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.
blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.
they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.
“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.
you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.
daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;
“rick, faster, please.”
“what was that?”
“please - faster, can you please?”
the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”
you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.
back onto daryl you go.
those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.
so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.
one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.
“rick,” you mumble against his lips.
“you gettin’ close, angel?”
“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”
“that’s where you guys went?”
your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.
that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.
riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.
rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.
meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.
a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.
shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.
nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.
in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?
you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.
“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”
you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.
“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”
“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.
as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.
“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.
spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”
right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.
as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.
once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.
“dare’,” you whine.
“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.
“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.
“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”
tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”
you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”
“so pretty when you come, baby.”
you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.
you could fall asleep right there. and you do.
it ends as it always does.
following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.
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that-basic-simp · 1 month
Text
Soft Kisses
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Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.0k+ A/N: Hope y'all like a sh!t ton of fluff!
Blinking my eyes open, I found a rare sight before me. Mizu. Asleep. Peacefully. Usually she'd wake up from a nightmare or something would cause her to stir awake, preventing her from falling back asleep. In turn, it would wake me up, getting me an early start to the day. She'd always feel bad about waking me up earlier than I'd like to, but I didn't mind. Especially if she woke up from a nightmare. She went on for so long without getting comfort and whenever I offered it for the first time, she didn't understand it. She left and didn't come back until sundown. It worried me, but after each time I helped her calm down, she finally understood what comfort felt like. Unconditional love and comfort.
Finding her asleep put a smile on my face. I carefully reached over and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. Her long, black hair that didn't always look black. There were some times it looked brown to where I questioned what color it was. Maybe it turned black in the summer and brown in the winter. Or vice versa. It was something of the sorts.
The brushing of my finger pad over her skin caused her to blink her eyes open. I smiled wider as I was met with those alluring blue eyes of hers. The one thing she hated about herself, but one of many things that made me love her.
"Morning, Mizu."
A small smile crept on her lips as she reached up, taking my hand, "Morning."
Oh that raspy morning voice. I can't tell if it was her natural morning voice or the one she uses to disguise herself. Either way, it sent a chill up my spine, causing the hairs at the back of my neck to stand up.
"Anything planned for today?"
"Unless Taigen comes unprompted again, no. Other than just spending another lovely day with you at my side."
"Oh, Mizu," I playfully pushed her.
She was never one to be flirty or romantic, not at the beginning, anyway. It was hard for her to show love, but she knew I understood it took her a while. Her past relationship wasn't the best on her, so when we started ours together, it was a long road of being cautious with her. She was cautious around me as well, but I had to know her triggers and what set her off. And they were very easy to know. But the one thing that didn't trigger her was whenever I complimented her eyes. At times, I'd find her standing there, confused on why I said that. She had to process that someone in this world actually enjoyed looking at her eyes. And didn't scrutinize her for them. Didn't call her names that weren't true. That someone was actually capable of loving that part of her that she despises.
"I'm being honest," she said.
"I know you are," I said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Some blush crawled over her cheeks as I did that. Another thing about Mizu: she's easily flustered. Especially when I show her any form of affection aside from holding her hand. And we weren't even out in public. If I were to kiss her cheek whenever we were strolling around a village, her red nose would turn even more red and her cheeks would turn a light pink. It was easily noticeable if you were looking right at her, but if you were just walking by, you'd think it was the cold getting to her. But it wouldn't be the excuse for the spring and summer. She'd blame it on allergies in the spring and the heat in the summer.
"Can we stay like this for a little longer?" Mizu asked.
"Of course, Mizu. You don't need to ask to stay with me."
"I-I just feel like I need to. In case you had something planned for today."
"Other than spending my day with you, I didn't have anything planned."
"Good," she mumbled, pulling me closer to her, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, brushing at the long strands of hair. I rested my head on top of hers, holding her tightly as she would place light and soft kisses to my neck. I giggled quietly as she did that, which led her to pull away and look at me.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
"Nope," I said, cupping her cheeks, pulling her towards me.
"Why are you staring?"
"I can't admire you?"
She shrugged, "Never really had someone do that."
"I'll be the first."
"If you'll be the last, too," Mizu smiled.
"Of course, Mizu."
I leaned towards her, placing a gentle kiss to her nose, both of her cheeks, her forehead, and finishing it off, I placed one to her lips. Pulling away after a few moments, Mizu smiled at me once more, her eyes appearing to be brighter than their darker shades whenever she's angry or pissed off. I loved that about her eyes, too, how different they can look depending on what mood she is in. The one where she wants revenge is the most horrifying, yet, all the more beautiful.
The pad of my thumb caressed the skin underneath her eye, as I stared into them, longing for this moment to last forever and ever. To return the favor, Mizu leaned towards me and pressed a kiss to my forehead, to my cheeks, and along my jawline she could reach before leaving one on my lips behind.
How could such a woman who is filled with revenge and hate be so kind and gentle? Soft one minute, a raging storm the next. I don't know how she did it. It amazed me. It made me want to know more about her, even though I knew every little detail about her. But there are still things she keeps in the dark from me, which I don't mind. They're mostly the darkest thoughts she has ever experienced. A different side of her that she never wants anyone to see, not even me. A part of her she wants to bury deep within herself in the hopes of being forgotten.
That aside, I pulled her towards me, this time, being the one to bury my face in the crook of her neck. I let out a sigh as I took in her warmth, despite her being one that lacks a lot of it with how skinny and somewhat malnourished she was. That we were working on, but I can't force her to eat if she doesn't want to.
"I love you, Mizu."
"I love you, too, Y/N."
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hiramaris · 1 month
Text
Kiss it Off Me
CHAPTER 5
Chapter Summary:
The farmer have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. And apparently, Haley just happens to be there— All the time.
Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer
Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.
Warning: alcohol
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Gif by  LoucoMarx's Artwork
If anyone told Haley she'd grown fond of you at the beginning of the year, she'd probably laugh at their faces. 
It's weird.
How you become a constant presence in her life right now that it would be weird not to see you even once a day.
It had been apparently a routine for you, and unfortunately (fortunate) for her, that you'd drop by the 2 Willow Lane every morning as long as it's beyond 8am to have breakfast with them.
Emily is more than willing to accommodate you, saying along the lines "Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."
Ridiculous.
Of course Haley had to be on her best behavior. You didn't need to see her and Emily squabble for the second time around. That would be embarrassing.
Well... that's what she likes to think. What she allows herself to think.
Because why else would you even stick around with someone as mean as her and give her all these gifts?
And why the hell is Haley even putting up with this?
She'd like to think it's because you want to get something from her. Let's say an ulterior motive.
But deep down she knows it's simply because you're just nice. 
At first, you looked like you're trying a little too hard to be liked by everyone else. Why else would you give almost everyone gifts instead of actually selling them and make profit? It just doesn't make sense. 
But the moment Haley experienced your kindness firsthand, she knew to herself that there's really no other ulterior motive behind all the easy smiles and gifts you were giving Haley.
So, even though she tried not to like it, she found herself actively looking for your presence.
Luckily for her, it just so happens the farmer also have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 
Surprisingly this time, Haley doesn't seem to mind.
Spring 17
This damn thing.
Haley let out an exasperated sigh as she stared at the stubborn jar in front of her, glaring it with such hatred she hoped it might open itself from the pressure. Her hands were already starting to hurt from trying to twist the lid open.
Can't she have a break? She just wants to cook breakfast today since Emily's out and all, and Haley can finally show you some of her cooking skills at home.
Yeah, sure she can be absolutely lazy with household chores but cooking is actually something she loved to do.
"Come on, just open already!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
Haley tried to use all her strength to open the jar, letting out a loud grunt as she felt her palms tingle with pain. But no matter how hard she tried, the stupid lid just wouldn't budge.
She was so busy trying to open the damn thing that she didn't noticed your presence behind her with an amused grin plastered all over your face, clearly finding humor at her antics.
"You need some help?" you voiced out behind her.
"Ugh," a flash of surprise flickered on her eyes when she turned around and locked her eyes with you before her face morphed into a mock scowl. "How does it feel seeing me in pain?"
You chuckled at her exaggeration. "Aw, does the baby needs help?" 
"Hmp." She squinted her eyes at that. "I was about to cook breakfast for us but now I don't feel like doing it."
She crossed her arms in mock anger for good measure.
How dare she calls her baby? And for the wrong reasons, too! 
The nerve!
"Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here," Haley's frustration quickly turned into surprise as she felt you tugged her by the loop of her belt, pulling her close to your body. The heat that radiates from your skin ignites a fire in Haley's belly.
You reached over and snatched the jar out of Haley's grip, flicking it open with a simple twist of your wrist. You then swiftly returned it to Haley's hand and gave her a look that could only be described as smug.
"Piece of cake," you bragged with a grin.
Haley cleared her throat, masking her embarrassment as she playfully shoved you away. "Hmp. You're stronger than you look."
You narrowed your eyes at her, and Haley caught a mischievous glint in your gaze.
"What do you mean, 'stronger than I look'?" you retorted, a hint of challenge dripping in your voice. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know?"
"Oh, really now?"
As if to prove your point, you rolled up your sleeves up to your shoulders, flexing your muscles just long enough for Haley to appreciate how farm works definitely did wonders to your physiques, not that you weren't already toned before, but you're definitely becoming a little buffer.
Those farmer clothes just hid them all this time.
Haley's mouth went dry. "Y-yeah, yeah, show off."
It's amazing how Haley still manage to act like this when a simple act of flexing had her gotten her hot and bothered.
She's never been one to swoon over muscles before (Alex's muscle only made her gag most of the time), but there's something about the way you look right now that has her feeling all kinds of things.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any impure ideas.
She didn't want to give you the satisfaction of stroking your already growing ego. Haley' sure that you are well aware of your effect on her, and if she let it show, you would only be so smug about it.
Sometimes, Haley regrets letting you be friends with Alex. Clearly, he's rubbing off you already.
"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."
"How many are you?" you readily quipped.
Haley suddenly choked on her own spit as heat rose to her cheeks at your sudden boldness. (What the hell? What the what?)
"I'm gonna hit you," Haley threatened half-heartedly as she tried to regain her composure (and dignity.)
She has to make this stop or else everything will be too much for her. Which was a frequent occurrence nowadays when you're near her.
"Okay, okay!" you barked out a laugh, seemingly oblivious to your effect on Haley, much to her relief. "I'll help you cook, alright?"
"Fine. But you're going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."
"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let's do it your way."
Yeah, you definitely had the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 
And probably say the right things at the least opportune time. 
Does Haley mind? 
Definitely not.
Spring 20
The Flower Festival is in four days, and Haley will be damned if she'd be anything but flawless.
Currently lounging on her couch, Haley was draped in a flimsy white towel, the only piece of cloth covering her body besides the face mask she had just applied, and a soft towel wrapped around her hair to soak up some excess water.
She had already finished exfoliating her body, scrubbing away all the stresses and strains of the past few days. Of course, she can't forget moisturizing, too. Despite her naturally flawless skin, it took loads of branded lotions, scrubs and moisturizers (so worth the money) to keep it this perfect.
In short, it's her pampering day.
Haley was a true believer in the power of self-care, and she spared no expense in ensuring that every inch of her body was pampered to perfection.
And she can't afford to be stressed today.
Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch.
Emily's usual nagging was nothing more than a minor annoyance that she brushed off without a second thought. And Alex, bless his heart, had the good sense to steer clear the moment he laid eyes on her with her bag of beauty essentials in tow.
He's also been kind enough to pass the message to you. Saying he'll just ask you to play ball with him or whatever to keep you busy earlier that morning.
Nothing, she repeats, nothing could ruin this nigh—
Her phone ringing was absolutely the least she expected to hear.
She was tempted to not answer, assuming it will be Emily on the other line. She doesn't call often during her shift, but if she does, she would occasionally ask Haley to bring either her apron or her shoes.
So, Haley's a little bit apprehensive about answering.
There's no way she's gonna be waltzing around outside just to give Emily her damn apron when she just finished her self-care!
Curiosity got the best of her though. With a deep breath, she swiped the answer button, hesitantly bringing the device to her ear.
"What?" she snapped, a little irritated at the interruption.
"Thank Yoba you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't." Emily babbled on the other line.
"Just spit it out, Em."
"Um," Haley can hear her hesitation. "Y/n/n's a little out of it and I kind of need help to get her home."
Haley sat a little bit straight at the mention of your name. "What do you mean she's out of it?"
"She's drunk."
For the love of Yoba—
What the hell are you thinking getting your ass drunk like that?
"Hay, are you still there?"
Haley has to literally calm herself down before speaking again. "I'm sorry but I can't. I just finished applying my face mask!"
"I see, I just thought since you're close with her and all..." Emily sounded a bit disappointed but didn't pushed it further. "I may just have to ask Penny to get her hom—"
"Be there in 5," was all Haley said before going to her room to get dressed.
She's going to kill you.
****
In no time at all, Haley arrived at the Saloon in her pajamas, hair damped and bare faced and everything. 
She saw Emily waiting outside, a visibly worried expression etched on her face. "Where is she?" Haley asked, her tone urgent.
Emily motioned towards the Saloon's door. "She's inside."
Normally, Haley wouldn't be caught alive inside her sister's workplace but that's the least of her concerns right now. "What the hell happened?"
"Since it was Shane's birthday and all. Y/n/n kind of bet with him who could drink the most beer without getting drunk. Safe to say no one won, huh?" Emily had the audacity to sound so sheepish. 
Haley nodded absentmindedly and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.
Sure enough, you were there, slumped over the bar with a couple of empty bottle of beer beside her. Shane's there too, but he's unconscious on the floor with Marnie trying her absolute best to wake her nephew up. 
Haley wanted to be mad at you. You literally made Haley walked across town with nothing but her pajamas! She also never go out without makeup and especially when she has just finished her skin care!
But what the hell.
Her heart could only flutter at the sight. How can someone be an idiot and cute at the same time?
She strode over to you and placed a hand on your back, careful not to startle you. "Y/n, come on. Let's get you home," she chided softly.
You groaned softly, lifting your head slightly at the sound of her voice, your eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Hay..? Is that you..?"
"Yeah, it's me," Haley answered, helping you to your feet. She took your arm and wrapped them around her shoulder, while her other arm secured its place on your waist to keep youfrom falling. "Come on, let's go."
Having the inability to stand by yourself, Haley found you leaning almost half of your weight on her.
Yoba, you're quite heavy. 
"You smell geurd..." you slurred more.
Haley tried to fight herself from flushing at the comment. It did not help that your face is practically buried at the side of her neck.
"I know," Haley tried to retort. "And you smell like beer." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust.
On the contrary, you actually smelled like freshly picked lemons and mint apart from the subtle scent of beer. It seemed that you prepared for this occasion and showered accordingly.
Haley briefly nods in approval. You didn't smell as bad as she expected, you weren't even sweaty, too compared to Shane here.
Haley stole a quick glance at him, noting his unruly stubble, tattered hoodie, and unkempt hair.
It was evident he hadn't exactly prioritized cleanliness lately. Haley couldn't help but be grateful that you were the complete opposite. But she decided not to dwell on it. After all, it was Shane's birthday, and he was entitled to be himself, even if it meant being his usual slightly musty, emo self.
"Even in my prime years I wasn't able to drink that much beer!" Pam cackled at the background, catching Haley's attention. She's clearly only tipsy despite the massive number of empty bottles in front of her. "Kids these days, really." She shook her head before turning to Emily. "Kid, can you give me some more mead?"
"Sure, Pam." Emily looks at Haley apologetically. "Sis, can you—"
"I got it. It's okay."
Leah, who had been eyeing them from the table decided to make her way towards them. "Do you need help?" before adding jokingly, "I didn't know Y/n/n was a drinker."
"Well, at least she's a lot calmer than Pam." Gus chimes in. "And a whole lot lesser violent than Shane here." He added as he eyed Shane on the floor with a couple of empty bottles beside him. Marnie is still trying to wake him up.
Haley raised an immaculate brow.
If Leah wanted to help maybe it would have been useful a couple of hours ago if she stopped this dungus from doing a stupid bet. Haley didn't dare say that though, and bit her tongue to stop saying something foul, instead, she opted with a strained, "thanks, but I got this." 
"You sur—"
The door of the Saloon swung open once again, and another redhead came straight to them. "What happened?" Penny asked in urgent. She's clad in her pajamas as well and her usually immaculate hair was down, which tells she's also ready for bed. "Mom called that Y/n/n was dru—"
"Kiddo, you're here!" Pam cheered loudly, Gus can only grimace at her antics. "I was just saying here that Y/n definitely won the bet!"
"Mom..." Penny sighed. "You should have stopped her. Y/n has work tomorrow."
"Hmp. It wouldn't hurt to have fun. Let the kid get loose a little. She's already been working hard."
Knowing it's no use to argue with her drunk mom. Penny turned to Haley, giving her a polite smile. "Do you need help taking her home?"
"Yeah!" Leah agreed beside her. "My cabin's near her farm, it would be no problem at all."
Haley tries to mask the sudden annoyance she feels at the women in front of her, and as well as the struggle she's feeling under the weight of the farmer. But she stood her ground stubbornly. She fakes a smile. "I got this."
"Are you s—"
"I got this." She repeated, this time firmly.
****
She definitely did not got this. 
You were thoughtful enough to stay still while Haley guided you out of the Saloon. But once they took a turn near 2 Willow Lane, the farmer started wriggling against her grasp.
"W-where... we going..?" you asked, slurring. 
"I'm taking you home," Haley replied in between grunts. 
What the hell is she even thinking?
She should have accepted Penny's help— hell, even Leah's help would be also appreciated but Haley just didn't like the idea of having those two around you.
Yeah, she knew you're friends with these two girls but Emily called her first, right? Never mind that she declined it first but Haley didn't want to be a bad friend letting you slumped all night long over that greasy bar. 
"Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."
You narrowed your eyes at her, holding up three fingers, "I had 9. Shane I think..." you held out a finger to her chin, "had 7."
Haley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I'm pretty sure I'm not that dumb to count 3 on your fingers."
"It's 3 times 3." 
"Yeah, sure."
"Yeah! And I'm completely sober," you declared, as if your words alone were enough proof. But your actions told a different story, as you stumbled once again, prompting Haley to exclaim, "stay still, you dungus!"  before you manage to free yourself away from Haley's arms. "See?" 
"Clearly." Haley answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached you. You were swaying dangerously and on the verge of collapsing over Marnie's fence.
"Oops—" You flashed a stupid grin as Haley caught you just in time, preventing you from face-planting into one of the feces of Marnie's cows. "Thanks, babe."
Haley almost dropped you at the unexpected endearment.
Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she internally debated whether to abandon you here or let her own remaining shreds of dignity vanish into the night.
She coughed awkwardly, trying to regain her composure. "Wow, you sure are flirty tonight. You sure you're sober?" 
"I don't know," You answered truthfully, sounding strangely sober. You came to a halt, causing Haley to stop as well. "The only time I allow myself to be this close to you without my heart pounding in my chest is in the reality I've created in my dreams. So, tell me, Haley..."
Under the moonlight, your eyes held an intensity and softness that seemed almost impossible.
"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"
****
Next
Notes:
I absolutely adore all those who left some comments from the past chapters. Thank you so much!
Alsooooo, I know it's a bit overdue buuuut
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K LIKES AND 100 FOLLOWERS! I didn't really expect this account to blow up like this but I really, really appreciate you guys and your patience for me.
I am so sorry for the delays as well. I just have a lot of things happening at the same time, you know, with uni and everything.
And I feel like I owe you guys a chapter. So here ya go!
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Text
Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 3
Word Count: 6k
Genre: smut, angst
Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 
But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 
But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 
A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 
Warnings: fem!reader, cunnilingus, missionary, references to rape, dub-con, dom!beomgyu, sub!reader
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You’ve decided you were overthinking everything. Your dreams mean nothing. Your dream about Taehyun meant nothing. It was just your stressed brain being weird. Though it was awkward being around him for a couple of days after that dream and feeling that inexplicable feeling of guilt and—you’d never say it outloud–love springs up your throat every time your eyes meet.
Luckily, you wouldn’t have to think about it too much today when there is something much more distracting to deal with. 
"What's with your eye?” You ask Taehyun, noting the eyepatch he was wearing. “Is it a stye?" 
He shakes his head, grinning as he pulls the eyepatch aside to reveal a black eye. You gasp. "Oh my god! Did you get in a fight?"
"You could say that.” He shrugs, grin still in full effect. “I'm a wrestler."
“Oh. That is… not shocking.” You frown, making him laugh. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You seem to be the type.” You say as you give him a once over. Despite his sweet and innocent looks, he had a kind of roughness about him that gave him away. “Yesterday when you were helping me with the door of the back room, you nearly ripped it off its hinges.” 
“You said it was stuck so I expected more resistance. I just didn’t account for your chicken arms.” He teases, making you gasp, affronted. “How dare you? Check out these guns.” 
You pull up the sleeves of your shirt, flexing said chicken arms in various wrestler poses. “I bet I can even take you, Mr. fighter.” 
“I bet you can.” Something about the way he says that, low and a little hoarse brings a blush to your cheeks, a certain double entendre you’re not sure he meant hanging in the air, but you decide to just barrel past it. You can’t let your stupid brain keep overthinking the smallest things. You refuse to let in that weird sense of intimacy and familiarity that your dreams have conjured up seep into your reality and your relationship with him. You’re purely coworkers, maybe tentative friends, nothing more.  
“Damn right.” You declare, satisfied. “Now let me take a look at that eye. My mother is a nurse, you know?”
“Is she?” He sits down obediently, letting you examine his eye closely. You start by making sure the eye itself isn’t hurt and that his vision is clear, getting him to follow your finger to test his eye movements and making him read a few things at a distance, before you move on to the possible brain injury. “You didn’t pass out, did you?”
“No.”
“Did you vomit?”
“Nope.” 
“Had any seizures?”
“No.” 
“Do you remember everything?” 
“I wish I didn’t.” He snorted. “Damn bastard floored me with that punch.” 
You wince as you imagine that kind of impact that would bring him down and cause such a black eye. Instinctively, you reach forward to brush your thumb gently under his bruised eye. “Aw, does it hurt?” 
“It feels better now.” He smiles, looking at you strangely, and your heart skips a beat. Okay, surely you’re not just imagining this, are you? Your brain can’t be that much of an asshole. 
But before you can attempt to make sense of the way he’s acting, an angry voice cuts through the delicate moment savagely.  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Your boyfriend’s voice is like ice water down your back, making you jump away from Taehyun immediately. You turn to him in shock.“Beomgyu! What are you doing here?” 
“Checking in on you, but I’ve clearly arrived at the wrong time.” He spits, eyeing Taehyun angrily, and you quickly realize the source of the misunderstanding, waving your hands in the air in denial, trying to dispel whatever erroneous conclusions you’re sure his mind came up with. Damn it, it’s bad enough dealing with Beomgyu’s jealousy without you unintentionally feeding it. “It’s nothing. I was just checking his black eye. He got injured at a match.” 
“He’ll get another one if he doesn’t step away from you.” Beomgyu threatens and you hear Taehyun snort from next to you. “Yeah, right. As if you could ever land a punch on me.” 
Goddammit, Taehyun. You’re trying to de-escalate things here!
“Wanna see?” Beomgyu growls, rising up to the challenge immediately and charging forward. But you quickly step between him and Taehyun, not wanting a fight to break out in the middle of your workplace. 
"Beomgyu calm down. You’re making a scene." You whisper, noticing how the customers' eyes have turned to you. But of course, Beomgyu doesn’t care, his anger and jealousy getting the best of him. "Am I? I'm sorry, should I wait for you to fuck him on the counter first?"
Humiliation sears your skin at his accusation, said so loudly and easily in front of your coworkers and everyone in the shop. You’re so embarrassed you could cry, but that would only humiliate you further. So you quickly grab his arm and pull him out the back and into the alleyway behind the cafe where no one can see you. 
You can’t believe he’s doing this again. He promised he will get himself under control. You’ve tried to reassure him that you only love him. You’ve tried again and again to put boundaries when he acts out, but then he completely crashes through them with no regard for you. Why should he when you always forgive him and take him back after his abhorrent behavior? It’s your fault. You’ve allowed him to go this far and now he’s out of control. You need to put an end to this.  
"I'm done. This is over. I'll come around later to get my stuff." You tell him, and his whole demeanor changes–all wrath is gone from his face and he turns into a wounded animal in the blink of an eye, shaking his head in denial as his eyes flood with tears. "No. No. You can't leave me. Not again."
"What the fuck are you talking about?” You shout harshly, and he flinches. God, why does that still make you feel bad despite everything he’s done to you? “I never left you. Maybe that's the problem."
“No, please, I'm sorry!” He wails, "I'm sorry I blew up. I'm sorry I made a scene. I just can’t stand to see him with you. I know he wants to take you from me."
His unwarranted conviction drives you mad. Does he really think every single guy is out to steal you from him? "You are insane."
 Another guy would take the hint and dial it down on the crazy, but not Beomgyu. As if to prove that insanity to you, he falls to his knees at your feet, grabbing onto your legs tightly. "Don't leave me. I can't live without you."
"Go home, Beomgyu.” You grit out, trying to hold yourself back from falling for his pathetic display because truthfully you’re just as pathetic as him. It’s easy to be stern and immovable when he’s angry and lashing out, but it’s another thing entirely when he acts so vulnerable. When he’s angry, he’s an asshole who is hurting you, but when he’s sad, he’s your loving boyfriend who just needs reassurance and care. 
"I can't. Not without you.” He insists, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I need space, Beomgyu.” 
“You know I can’t–” 
“I need space to calm down and forget what you've done so I won't leave you." You snap, finally making him take his hands off you, realizing that though it kills him, backing off for once might be the thing that saves your relationship this time. 
Still he needs that extra reassurance. “Do you promise you won’t leave?” 
“Beomgyu–”
“Please!” He hiccups, hanging onto the thread of hope. “Please promise me that you won’t just leave.” 
“I won’t.” You grits out. You can’t. You wish it was ever that fucking easy to leave him, but he’s got you hooked on him good. 
"Okay." He gets up shakily. "Can I have a kiss?"
Does he not know how to quit? Has he no sense of awareness of the situation? Can’t he tell how much he has pushed you? "No."
You try to be firm in your decision, try to make him take you seriously once and for all, but when you see him sniffle and his lips tremble, it’s hard to stay strong. 
"Please. Just in case." He shakes under your harsh gaze that softens every time his breath hitches as he tries to hold himself together. 
God, this is exactly why he behaves this way, because it always works. 
You grab him by the back of the head, kissing his lips roughly, more teeth than anything, biting down on his lower lip in punishment, hard enough to taste blood, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. He clutches onto you desperately, opening his mouth up for you to thrust your tongue inside, making him taste his own blood. 
It’s a job to get him off you, but eventually you manage to disentangle yourself from him. “Go home now.” 
“Will you come home after work?” He prods, and you run your hand through your hair in frustration. “Is this giving me space?” 
“I just–” 
“I’ll be home by bedtime. I’ll probably walk around or hang out with friends to decompress.” You explain to him, even though you know you really shouldn’t. He has no right to know where you’re going, not after the shit he just pulled but you know he won’t leave you if you don’t reassure him. 
“Which friends? Are you going to–” 
“I have to get back to work, Beomgyu.” You cut him off sharply, unwilling to give him more. Truthfully, you don’t even know what you’ll do. You don’t know if you even wanna hang out with your friends. You can’t handle them telling you ‘I told you so’ for the hundredth time and pushing you to break up with Beomgyu. “I know you want me to get fired so I only have time for you but I actually wanna keep this job.”
He winces at your accusation but you don’t wait for him to defend himself, turning your back on him and walking into the coffee shop. 
Getting back into work is mortifying as you try to dodge the gazes of others that are at best curious and at worst judgmental and accusatory. Most of all, you try to avoid Taehyun, not knowing what to say to him after he witnessed your boyfriend’s outburst against him. 
But it’s hard to hide in such a small shop, and Taehyun is on you just a few minutes after stepping back inside. To your surprise however, he isn’t angry or reproachful. In fact, he doesn’t mention it directly at all.
“Hey you wanna blow off some steam after work?” He asks you, completely casual and you breathe a sigh of relief, nodding. You really could use some stress relief. You know you can’t go home to Beomgyu like this. You’re so mad you’re afraid you’ll do or say something you regret. 
What worries you even more is that you think whatever you would do to him, Beomgyu would take it, and you don’t want to be that person. You don’t want to perpetuate this sickness. 
________________________________
Taehyun takes you boxing. It’s definitely a bit unusual but when he said it would help you blow off some steam, he wasn’t kidding. 
“Hit it harder. Take out all your rage onto it.” Taehyun instructs you, then adds cheekily, “Imagine it’s your boyfriend’s face if you need to.” 
You scoff. If Beomgyu was here, he’d definitely lose it with how close Taehyun is to you, his hands fluttering between your waist and shoulder to correct your position, and wrapping around your arms to teach you how to correctly swing. 
“Like that?” You ask, punching the bag the way he taught you to. You’re not strong enough to have it swinging like he does, but he still praises you for doing it right. 
“Yup, good job. Soon enough you’ll be able to deck Beomgyu in the face.” He jokes and you send him a glare. 
“I don’t want to punch Beomgyu.” You say, delivering another hard swing at the punching bag, putting your full weight into it. 
“Are you sure about that?” He raises his eyebrows, watching you pummel the bag. 
“I’m just frustrated.” You grit, raining punches with both fists until you feel your arms getting sore. “Why does he have to act like such an asshole? He knows I love him. He knows he’s the only one for me. Why is he so insecure? He’s such a fucking idiot. He makes me so goddamn mad!”
You step away from the bag, panting for breath. Clumsily, you push away the sweaty hair out of your face with the gloves still on as you try to calm down your overheated body. “You’re right. This did help.” 
You give the bag one last punch before you take off the boxing gloves and slump onto a chair, exhaustion settling into your bones. You hear Taehyun snicker as he takes your place and starts his exercise. 
You watch him workout. You admit, he looks good doing it. Dressed in a white sleeveless top, his muscles bulge and tense every time his arms shoot forward to smack the bag. The look of concentration on his face and the way his jaw clenches makes him look all the hotter. 
His punches are fast and accurate, and you cringe a bit at the idea of someone being at the receiving end of them, but you still find it attractive. You never got the appeal of the strong, macho man some girls swoon over, always preferring the soft cute types yourself, but watching Taehyun go to town on that punching bag, sweat starting to drip down his glistening skin… you finally get it. 
Apparently, your ogling wasn’t as subtle as you thought, especially when Taehyun pulls up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing his hard abs to your curious eyes. 
“Like what you see?” Taehyun smirks, dropping the shirt back down and you blush, looking away. “Bet he doesn’t look like this.” 
“Shut up.” You grumble, standing up. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?” 
You realize how dry your throat has become and take it as an advantage to get out of this messy situation you’ve gotten yourself in. But Taehyun shakes his head. “You stay put. I’ll go get the drinks.” 
You graciously accept the offer, telling him what you’d like to have, and he dips out of the practice room to get you something out of the vending machine and you take the opportunity to cool off. 
God, what is wrong with you? Do you like Taehyun? Why the fuck are you thirsting like that over him? Ever since you’ve gotten with Beomgyu, you can honestly say you’ve never wanted to be with another man. Beomgyu just fulfilled all your needs, emotionally and physically. Being with him felt like finally finding your other half, your soul’s resting place. It’s cliche but it truly felt like you were made for each other. How can anyone else compare? 
But now that his jealousy and controlling behavior has gotten out of control, you find yourself pulling away from him, the illusion of the perfect one for you slowly shattering by his own hand. Is that why you’re having these weird feelings towards Taehyun? Like Beomgyu, you feel like you’re connected to Taehyun somehow. Despite the relatively short duration you’ve known him, it feels like you’ve known each other for years. You yearn for him in a way you have no control over and you don’t like it. You’re just proving Beomgyu right with his unhinged paranoia. 
Seriously, fuck Beomgyu for putting these thoughts into your head. You were completely fine with Taehyun before he made a big deal out of nothing. 
When Taehyun comes back, he hands you a can of soda and you gladly pop it open, gulping down the cool liquid with relief. 
“So when did you start boxing?” You clear your throat, trying to ignore the way his Adam's apple bops as he swallows. 
“Since I was a kid basically.” He shrugs, explaining further at your questioning look. “I didn’t have the best home life and boxing helped me blow off some steam and got me away from it for a bit.”
“Ah.” You hum awkwardly, twirling the can in your hands. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 
“It’s alright. I’ve left it behind now, trying to make a life of my own. That is why I was so glad that you told me about the job at the cafe. It’s a chill job that allows me to make some money to support myself and still be able to pursue my studies.” 
“Right. Music. Didn’t peg you for that guy. I mean, boxing sure but didn’t think you’re the artistic type.” You grin, feeling a bit giddy at his faux offended look. 
“Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He defends, “And I’ve been told I have the voice of an angel.” 
“Someone's humble.” You laugh, and he shrugs. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.” 
“Let’s hear it then, angel.” 
He gives you a look at that, and you open your mouth to apologize, not sure if you’d crossed a line, but then he coughs, clearing his throat a bit and starts to sing. 
I know that sweet love song
The words we said through our oath
If I turn around, eventually
They'll just end up being an unfamiliar someone
Sorry I'm an anti-romantic
I want to run away, far away
My heart is already chasing after you
And burning with small embers
Sorry I'm an anti-romantic
I don't believe anymore in being romantic
As my entire heart burns
I'm afraid that only black ashes will remain
He really does have the voice of an angel, so sweet and soothing. You listen quietly to the whole song, a small smile on your face despite the song’s pessimistic message. But something about his voice tugs at a distant memory in your brain, the feeling like a word on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t quite remember. It’s a disquieting feeling that clashes with the sweet honey of his voice. 
You don’t let it show though. You know he wouldn’t understand. And once he’s done singing, you clap enthusiastically. 
“Thank you. Thank you.” He graciously accepts the applause, a pleased grin on his face. 
��Wonderful. Showstopping. Angelic.” You pour out exaggeratedly and he laughs. “I told you.” 
“You did.” You admit, no point teasing him about his cockiness when you like his voice so much. “I never heard that song before. Did you write it yourself?” 
“Yup.” 
“Now I get how you’re into music if your songs are this dejected.” But you can tease him about the subject matter. You’re impressed with his talent but if you had to come up with a song that Taehyun would compose, it would’ve sounded exactly like this. 
“I’m just being a realist.” He tells you and you cock your head to the side, intrigued. “You don’t believe in romance?”
“No. I’ve seen how it goes too many times and it always ends in heartbreak and tears at best.” 
You frown, finding it sad that his experiences have made him arrive at this bleak conclusion. “It’s not always like that. Some people have happy relationships.” 
“Yeah, do you know of anyone who has an actually happy relationship?”He challenges and you wrack your brain trying to think of one. Your parents? Definitely not. Your sisters? Nope. Your friends? Hah. Still, you refuse to admit it. You’re a hopeless romantic and you refuse to accept his cynical worldview. If love only ever ends in heartbreak then what even is the point of living? “Just because the people I know aren’t the poster children for happy relationships doesn’t mean there are none.” 
“Are you even happy with Beomgyu?” He prods, catching you off guard. 
You were. Things were perfect between you. He was the best boyfriend you could have ever wished for at the beginning. He was so sweet and loving and gentle, being with him felt like coming home, but slowly things started to unravel until it got to the point you’re at right now and you’re too scared to admit that things may never go back to the way they were before. If Beomgyu isn’t the one for you then who is? 
“Shut up and sing more.” You grumble, not wanting to think about it anymore.
Taehyun grins, not pushing anymore, satisfied with his win, and obliges you. He sings a couple more songs for you, each of his own making, and you eagerly listen to him, closing your eyes and getting lost in the warmth of his voice, asking for more every time he finishes. 
He doesn’t complain, performing a mini-concert for you, helping soothe your nerves as you try to focus on his soothing voice and forget about the troubles you’ve been going through with Beomgyu and your confusing feelings for Taehyung.
But all the tension ricochets back into your body when he gets to the fourth song, the small smile you were wearing plummets into a frown and you sit up from your slumped position suddenly. You don’t know what it is about this song. It appears to be a simple lullaby, but just hearing it makes your heart hammer in your chest. 
Taehyun notices quickly and stops singing. “What’s wrong?” 
“Did you make up that song too?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No, it’s a song my mum used to sing me when I was a kid. Why?”
“I don’t know, something about it seems familiar.” You trail off, eyebrows furrowing as you try to recall where you heard it before. 
“I doubt it. My mum made it up.” He says, confused by your sudden change in mood. 
You’re confused too. You don’t understand. You just have this intense feeling of deja vu right now, something you’ve been feeling increasingly more frequently lately. Maybe you heard it in a dream? 
You shake your head, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and needing comfort, needing Beomgyu… “Never mind. I should probably get going.” 
You’re mad at him but he’s still the biggest source of comfort for you. He has a way to calm you down even if he’s the one who caused your anxiety. It all works out when it’s just the two of you. It’s only when other people get involved that everything falls apart…
“Already?” Taehyun asks, disappointed, and you look at the clock that says 10:46 pm and sigh. “Yeah. Beomgyu is probably freaking out by now. Even more than he already was.” 
“Maybe you shouldn’t go back to him then. You need some proper time away to think things through. You can’t let him keep getting away with this behavior.” He advises, his expression betraying his clear distaste for Beomgyu. Great, another friend who despises your boyfriend. You can’t deal with this right now. 
“He’s just insecure.” You find yourself defending him once again, feeling weary and covering your face with your hands. “I don't know why. it's not like every guy that ever meets me will fall in love with me. You don't even like me.” 
"I do like you." Taehyun says simply and you snap your head up and gape at him. "What?"
He shrugs as if this doesn’t fuck everything up even more. "I like you and I think you deserve better than your shitty boyfriend."
You shake your head, standing up, feeling angry at yourself. Of course, he likes you. Beomgyu smelled it from a mile away. Why else would he be so nice to you? Why else would he care so much to hang out with you and calm you down when he’s probably tired from his shift? This was obviously a mistake and you’re a stupid girl who is playing into it while your boyfriend is probably breaking down at home. "Beomgyu is a good boyfriend. He loves me." 
Taehyun stands up too, getting a bit forceful now. “You’re deluding yourself. What he’s doing isn’t healthy, and he’ll only continue to get worse because you let him.” 
What does he know? How do you know he’s not just trying to break you up with your boyfriend so he could get with you? Beomgyu probably could tell that Taehyun liked you from the start and that’s why he was so averse to you being around him. Obviously that doesn’t excuse how out of pocket he acted today but he still wasn’t completely wrong. 
“I should go.” You mutter, quickly gathering your things. 
“Let me take you home then.” He offers and you snort. Yeah right, like that wouldn’t make Beomgyu’s brain melt. 
“I'll just take an uber.” 
Taehyun attempts to argue but you shut him down. 
_____________________________
Beomgyu is waiting near the door when you get back, curled up onto himself as he rocks back and forth, looking like a broken mess, and your heart can’t help but clench painfully at the miserable sight of him despite everything he’s done. You can’t bear to see him hurt, especially knowing that Taehyun liked you after all and he wasn’t being totally paranoid. 
"You're back!" He stops rocking and untangles his arms from his body. You see the tension in his body, like he wants to spring forward and take you in his arms but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to. "I thought I lost you." 
"I'm right here." You sigh, opening your arms up, giving him the signal he needed to stand up and engulf you in his arms. 
“I’m sorry, baby–” He begins his long plea. You’ve heard it many times by now–he’s sorry he acted irrationally, he’s sorry he gets jealous and out of control, he promises he’ll do better– but you’re honestly not in the mood for it right now. You just want to pretend none of this happened tonight, least of all because you feel some kind of guilt over hanging out alone with Taehyun and letting him touch you when he secretly had feelings for you just like Beomgyu was afraid of. 
“Shut up, Beomgyu.” You grab his face and kiss him. 
He lets you do it. Beomgyu would never reject a kiss from you, but once your bruising kiss leaves his lips and travels to his jaw, he voices his concern. “Are you sure, princess? Don’t you wanna t-talk about it?” 
Princess? He’s bringing out the big guns. There is no use arguing with Beomgyu right now. You already know what he’s going to say so you bite down on his neck, making his breath hitch as your hands trail up his waist towards his nipples, rubbing them with your thumbs over the thin material of his shirt and making him gasp. “Just shut up and be good for once, Beomgyu. Need you to fuck me so hard I can’t even think about how mad I am at you right now.” 
You feel him gulp under your lips, and the next thing you know he is carrying you by your ass and dropping you onto the couch. He quickly takes off every shred of fabric on your body, following suit, before he gets on the ground in front of you and buries his face in your pussy. 
Beomgyu is a very talented lover, especially with his tongue. He knows exactly what to do to get you going, and right now is no different. He eats you out as if he can convince you to stay just by using his mouth, and you have to admit, it is very persuasive. 
“Fuck, Gyu. Good boy.” You praise, encouraging him to do more, your hand in his hair guiding his mouth to where you want him. He eagerly lets you control him, pushing his tongue into your pussy while his lips pucker and suck around your hole. 
You feel yourself clench around his tongue, more of your arousal leaking around it until it covers his chin and parts of his cheeks. You pull his head up, whining as his tongue slips out of your pussy, but he quickly relieves the feeling of emptiness by pushing his fingers inside you, curling them up to hit that sensitive spot inside you that has you keening. 
He wasn’t going to be slow tonight, and you don’t want that. You cry as his mouth finds a new target in your clit, alternating between sucking it in his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, all while his fingers plunge in and out of you until you’re creaming on his face. 
“That’s it! Fuck, that’s it, baby.” You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as your body shudders at the intense orgasm. Fuck, you needed this. 
Beomgyu doesn’t care about how hard you’ve got his hair fisted up in your hand. He keeps hungrily licking your pussy, not letting your arousal completely fade even as your orgasm passes. 
“Baby, wait, give me a second–” You gasp, feeling sensitive, and when Beomgyu pulls away you think he’ll give you break, but instead he pushes you down until you’re laying on your back on the couch and gets on top of you, lining his cock with your entrance 
“Wait–Beomgyu!” You cry as he shoves his cock inside of you, beginning to fuck you right away, not giving you a moment to breathe or calm down. 
“There you go, princess. Is this what you wanted?” He pants, hips slamming against yours as he fucks you roughly. 
It was what you wanted but you’re not sure now. You need a moment. “Baby, slow down…” You whine, your eyes squeezed tightly which Beomgyu doesn’t like. 
“Slow down? But I thought you wanted me to fuck you until you can’t think about how mad you are at me.” He taunts, slamming his hips against yours, his cock going so deep inside you you feel like you’re going to choke. Normally, you’d fucking love it but it’s suddenly too much for you. 
You shake your head, holding tightly onto his upper arms. “Please, baby, just slow down!”
But Beomgyu only fucks you harder. “Open your eyes, princess. Look at me while I’m fucking you.” 
“Beomgyu–” You beg but he seems too far gone, not realizing that you’re being serious. You feel a harsh smack against your thigh and he growls down at you. “Open your eyes.”  
You do, hardly seeing him with the tears in your eyes, but what you see scares you. “Gyu–”
“Am I fucking you hard enough? Or does my princess need me to fuck her dumb until she sees only me?” 
No, no. This is exactly what you asked for, but somehow it doesn’t feel good. The wildness of Beomgyu’s eyes, the roughness of his hands, don’t assure you of his need and devotion to you as always. Instead, they speak of a need to own, a desire to subjugate you or tear you apart. It fucking terrifies you. 
And suddenly, intrusive images come to mind. Images of bound limbs and golden suits, tears and anger. Images of Beomgyu forcing himself on you as you lie helpless and beg him to stop. 
“Beomgyu!” You cry out, shocked at what your mind is conjuring up. It’s not real but it feels real. You feel violated and scared and you just want it to stop. "Stop. Stop!"
“No. Don’t be a brat. You can take it.” Beomgyu chastises, still lost in his own head, the pleasure clouding his mind and not letting him see your pathetic state. 
“No. I can’t. Please. ” You sniffle, shaking your head weakly. 
“Don’t cry. You’ve made me wait so long for this pussy.” Prince Beomgyu drives his dick into you harder, making sure you’re fully deflowered.  "Take it. You were made for me. You can take it."
The images of prince Beomgyu looming over you just like he is right now, being so relentless and cruel as he takes what he wants from you are all you can see in front of you. It’s not a dream anymore. You’re wide awake, so why can you see them as if they were your own memories? God are you going crazy?
“Beomgyu?” You croak, trying to reach him through the images and his crazed headspace.
“I swear if you don’t shut the fuck up, I won’t bother being gentle.”
You quickly clamp your mouth shut at the ghostly threat, stopping any noise from getting out, stopping even your breathing, and that finally alerts Beomgyu to what is going on. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He stops moving and reaches out to touch you but you flinch. 
“Don’t touch me.” You cry, the damn breaking down and allowing tears to stream down your face. 
“What happened? Oh god. I didn’t know you were serious.” Beomgyu’s face goes pale and he looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Get off me. Get off me.” You wail, pushing him away. He pulls out of you but doesn’t get off, wrapping you in his arms and trying to get you to calm down. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear. You’re okay. You’re okay. I love you.” He coos, trying to sound reassuring but you can hear the panic and fear in his voice as he cradles you and rocks you back at forth, not paying any mind to you clawing at his back as you try to break free, letting you sob and cry until you tire yourself out and slowly, slowly down. 
“I’m right here, princess. You’re safe with me. I’ll never leave.” 
His words of reassurance fail to have the effect he desires. Instead of soothing you, you find them suffocating and inescapable. You feel like you’ve been here many times before, each time adding to the heaviness of that oppressive weight pushing down on you until you don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. You just fall limp in his arms, and he finally pulls back to look at you. 
He brushes your hair out of your face and swipes away the drying tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you, baby. I didn’t mean to.” 
"I’m sorry. I just…” Prince Beomgyu struggles to find the words for a second. “I had to do what I had to do to keep you.” 
You shiver, looking away from him. 
"What is it? What’s happening? What are you thinking?" He asks worriedly, wanting to get into your brain to figure out what caused your sudden breakdown, needing to know so he can convince you it’s nothing like he always does. 
“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumble, monotone. You’re fucking exhausted and traumatized. You feel like you’ve been violated. You just want to go to sleep and not wake up. 
“Baby, please, just talk to me. I can fix it.” 
You glare at him. “Fix it? As if you’ve ever taken my concerns seriously. You’d just tell me it’s all in my head and–” You shut yourself up. You don’t want to talk to him about this. It hurts enough when he dismisses your dreams normally. It would fucking kill you if he made light of what you just experienced, even if it was all in your head.  
Surprisingly, in a move totally unlike him, Beomgyu relents. “I take you seriously. You don’t even know.” He says, head bowed sadly. “It’s you who doesn’t.”
What does that even mean? Is he talking about his jealousy over Taehyun? Yes, you admit he may have been right about that but there are many other things he was wrong about. But you don’t have the energy to get into it right now. 
“Take me to bed.”
“Yes, princess.” He sighs, head bowed as he carries you in his arms and takes you to bed, putting you under the sheets and climbing in next to you. 
“I never want to hurt you.” He murmurs, taking you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. You shiver at his choice of words. 
Never wants to hurt you. Not is never going to hurt you. 
__________________________
A/N: lol I was supposed to do this early release on patreon but here is a surprise. as always i really appreciate any feedback. whenever I am going through hard times I keep reverting back to missing yamqn gyu and wishing for him to comfort him despite how objectively terrible he is :'D
once again
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odinsonslut · 1 year
Text
Young
⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst
⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader
⊹ themes: Friends to lovers
⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.
⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.
⊹ word count: 1.7k
⊹ a/n:  I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm. 
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Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated. 
This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.
“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued. 
“You’re just a little too young for me.”
Young
He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself. 
You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.
“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.
“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.
“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”
“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”
-
It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention. 
The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.
I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.
“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand
“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely
“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.
“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”
“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”
“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed
You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms 
To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.
He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.
“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”
I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.
-
I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.
“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”
“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”
“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”
Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.  
We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.
What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.
I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.
“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through 
“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-
“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.
He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond. 
“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.
He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise  I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”
It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.
“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added
“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.” 
“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.
He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.
“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”
I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand. 
End
✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩
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yrluvjane · 1 month
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Hey! i have never requested a fic before so forgive me cause i have no idea how to do it. How about a james potter x reader fic where james ignores reader for lily, getting them hurt in the process?
It's great and I'm honored to be your first :) Feel free to send as many as you like! Sorry, if I'm a bit late with it. I tend to rewrite at last minute a lot. I hope you like it!
James' love was a force of nature, not an ordinary love, but something that threatened to consume you entirely.
You couldn't ignore it, and it left you feeling both intoxicated and overwhelmed. It was like being at the beach, feeling the sun's heat kiss your skin and the sound of the waves crashing in the distance, and it was also like jumping into the pool and feeling the cold spring of the water shock you to your core. James' love was like that, it was intense, it was overwhelming, it was all-consuming. It was a love that burned like a wildfire, crashing down on you with the force of oceanic waves and you couldn't help but be drawn into its embrace.
And somehow you still felt like second fiddle to Lily Evans. From the moment they met in their first year, he's been completely obsessed with her - spending every second of free time with her, using every chance to grab her attention.
Back then, you've always tried to ignore his constant chatter about her, but today, it proved too much. Nothing drastic had happened today but you did get a rather shocking acceptable on a Potions test you'd worked really hard on and were sure you'd have aced. That had got to you a little and you were craving a little reassurance.
After a good while of moping around in bed waiting for James to come back from practice you decided to head for lunch and meet him there. When you spot James in the common room with Lily, leaning in to whisper something in her ear as she laughs at his latest joke, that's when it really hits you. That loneliness. Maybe your over-reacting, but that doesn't stop you from feeling a pit forming in your stomach. You've never felt so invisible and forgotten before, and it hurts more than you ever thought it could. 
You take a deep breath and force a smile onto your face as you walk past them, trying not to let your emotions show, but it's hard. When you reach your table, you find yourself struggling to eat, the food tasting like ashes in your mouth. And your mind takes up the role as your greatest enemy, coming up with a whole lot of reasons of why James could prefer Lily over you.
You're not entirely sure why you're even there, since James is too preoccupied with Lily to even notice your absence. And whenever you manage to distract yourself, someone is tapping on your shoulder asking you were James is and you have to smile and say he's with Lily.
After what feels like an eternity, and overhearing a rather hurtful comment made at you, the lunch period finally comes to an end. You make your way back to your dormitory, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill down your face. As you flop onto your bed, you can feel the lump rising in your throat as you think about your day.
You let out a shaky sigh as the tears finally spill over, spilling down your face and onto your pillow. You don't know why your crying, Lily is your friend and James has the right to sit and talk with whomever he wishes. You're being stupid you believe and it still not enough to make you get yourself together.
As you lie there on your bed, crying uncontrollably, you hear a soft knock on your door. You sit up, still sniffling, and wipe away your tears as you call out, "Come in."
The door opens, and James steps inside, his face immediately wrought with concern. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry.
"It's nothing, 'm being stupid." You say. You'd never actually tell James why. I don't get why James picked her, Lily was great for him! You repeat the comment in your mind.
He's not convinced, he looks more disappointed and it hurts. He pulls you into a hug, holding you close as you let the tears flow freely. "I'm here for you, I promise," he whispers in your ear, the warmth of his breath making you feel safe and loved.
He continues to hold you, you feel the tension of the past few hours begin to melt away, replaced by the comfort and warmth of James' embrace. As James continues to hold you, you take a deep breath and finally work up the nerve to tell him how you truly feel. "It's stupid, I know," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "But I can't help feeling like I'm never going to be enough for you, that I'll always compare myself to Lily and fear someday you'll pick her over me."
James shakes his head, his hands running through your hair as he looks deeply into your eyes. "It's not stupid, and you are enough for me," he says, his voice soft and filled with emotion.
He pulls your face closer to his, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that makes your heart flutter. As he pulls back, his eyes meet yours once more. "You're the only one I want to be with," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the only one I love, and my love for you could never compare with Lily. Hell, most of time we spend together all I can ever talk about is you."
His words are like music to your ears. You kiss him again, this time with all the passion and love that's been building up inside of you. "I'm sorry." You say sheepingly. "Oh hush, trust me Sirius is a lot more violent when it comes to seeking attention. I mean it, he bit me, once!" You both laugh and all your worries and fears melt away as you realize that, in this moment, you have everything you could ever want or need.
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alrightieaphroditie · 2 months
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just checkin' in | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚ 2.4k an *:·゚ it's here! the first part in a series i am veeery excited about!! this installment is pretty much straight fluff, but i had a blast writing it and getting back into joel's character. i cannot wait to see where this series takes me, and i really hope everyone enjoys reading it! this is slightly edited, but if there's anything huge that jumps out at you, please let me know! check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ even when joel is miles away, he never fails to check in on his girl.
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after checking for what quite literally had to be the millionth time, the folded-up letter was still sitting right where joel had set it before he left; propped up against your bookstack on the end table in your living room. not that you were expecting it to suddenly grow legs and run away or anything. but today was finally the day that you could open it, as specified by the man who wrote it himself, and by god, you wanted to make sure you knew where it was when you finally sat down to read it. 
in the beginning, when you and joel first started up this little tradition of writing each other letters when he'd go off on the hunting trips, you would eagerly rip open his notes as soon as you were able to. joel always left very clear instructions to not open them until a certain date, and you always obliged, even though it wasn't like joel would really know when you actually opened them. you wouldn't be surprised if his senses started tingling if you even dared to go against his instructions, though. joel had a way of being so omnipresent with you; so attuned to your own being that even when he was gone, you swore you could still feel him with you.  
after a little while, though, you learned to tame that eagerness and make a dedicated time for reading his letters. the excitement never left you fully, and you found that opening the letter was still all you could think about on the day of, all these months later. you spent your morning helping in the greenhouses, thinking of what joel could have written. you cleaned up your house during the afternoon, eyes gazing to the paper with your name on it, written in his surprisingly nice handwriting, far too often. and when you had dinner with ellie that night, all you could do was smile as she mentioned opening her own letter that morning, your foot tapping against the floor as you impatiently anticipated getting to open your own. 
now, you were fresh out of the shower (ellie made one too many jokes about how much you had stunk after working all day, to the point where you couldn't really tell if she was joking or not), your hair done up in two braids, wearing one of joel's t-shirts and stirring some honey in your cup of tea. the window in your living room was cracked open, the crisp early spring winds causing your gauzy curtains to flutter across the hardwood floors. now, you finally tucked yourself into the corner of your couch, an ugly green thing that was shockingly comfortable, and tugged the blanket hanging on the back of it over your legs, getting comfortable. 
balancing your mug on the arm of the couch, you reached over and finally pulled the letter into your lap. just seeing your name on the front had those silly little butterflies float through your stomach; something you felt far too often with joel. you steadied yourself with a deep breath, and, after taking a small sip of your tea, settled back into the couch, unfolding the crisp paper. 
just checkin' in on you, sugar. 
the first line of his letter was always the same, and yet it never failed to make you smile. he'd say those same words in person, too, when he came by to visit while you were out working, or when he'd stop by your place early in the morning before he went out to do his duties. you'd never get sick of hearing - or reading - those words. 
hope you've been doin' alright. i can't believe they're makin' me go out again even though i just got back from another trip. swear these men can't do shit without me, especially tommy. i know he's the only reason why i'm out in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a damn sack when i could be in your bed instead. 
you couldn't help but snort at joel's irritation with his brother. the sibling rivalry between the miller brothers was never ending, though the majority of it was in good fun. joel was right, though. tommy was, in fact, the sole reason why his brother left for another trip so close to returning home from one; maria had told you that tommy complained that the group he was going with couldn't aim for shit and needed at least one more man who knew how to handle a gun. 
the good thing, though, is that they're lettin' me get out of the next couple trips after this. i'll get at least a few good weeks with you, uninterrupted. as much as i like writin' these letters, and as much as i love reading what you've written me, i'd much rather be able to talk to ya in person. that way i could see your grin every time i say somethin' sweet to you, just like i bet you're doing now, huh?   
once again, joel was right. 
i gotta go pack up now, but i'll be back home to you any day now. take care of yourself for me, baby, just until i can get back to doin' it myself. i love you. 
a wave of emotions hit you at once when you finished reading the letter. happiness, for his approaching homecoming. excitement, for those few weeks he'd be getting off. love, for the way he knew you and how he loved taking care of you. and, however faint, loneliness, for how much your heart ached to see him. he had been gone for a week now, and before that, the two of you had only had one day together after he had been gone for two. only a few days remained in this trip, though it still felt like forever. 
you wouldn't let yourself dwell on that miniscule amount of pain, though. joel wouldn't want you to, so you knew better by now. instead, you reread his letter, hearing that slight drawl of his in your head, and grinning again just like he predicted. you held it to your chest as you sipped your lukewarm tea, as if your skin could absorb his words and cement his love into your bloodstream. 
later, after your tea had gone too cold and you dumped it out in the sink, you carried yourself to your room, the hem of joel's shirt brushing delicately against your thighs. kneeling to the ground, your knees hit the worn wood floor as you dug underneath your bed, pulling out an old shoebox. inside were joel's previous letters, the box almost stuffed to the brim with them. you couldn't even imagine tossing them out, these little symbols of his love for you, so this was where you stored them, safely tucked away. 
after placing the most recent one on top of the box and putting it back under your bed gently, you snagged the flannel joel had left from his side of the bed and put it on. now wrapped in his clothes, his scent, you felt closer to him. that silly thread of loneliness fluttered through your heart again, ever so briefly, but you brushed it off as you pulled back your quilt blanket and climbed into bed.  
outside your window, you could just barely make out the moon high in the pitch-black sky and you wondered if joel was awake still, looking up at that same fixture. it was the comfort you felt at that thought that allowed you to close your eyes and drift off, and joel's lingering scent on the flannel was the last thing you remembered thinking of. 
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somewhere in the woods, miles away from the walls of jackson, joel sat on the damp ground, propped against a fallen tree log. his hand was in his jacket, his calloused thumb and forefinger brushing against the smooth paper folded into bits in the pocket. 
he had requested first watch tonight, hoping to have at least some time to himself so that he could read your words. unlike him, you never gave any instructions for when to read your letter. you said once that he should just read it whenever he missed you, and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that if he did that, he’d be reading the letter the moment he stepped out of the border around town. 
you had mentioned in passing, however, that you made a little ritual out of reading his letters, and so joel started putting off reading your letter, waiting until the date that he specified for you to open his. he knew it was silly, that the probability of you both reading the letters at the same time was slim, especially when he had to wait until the dead of night, when he had a small moment of free time. but it kept him going, so he continued to do it. 
the last man in the group had just walked back to his sleeping bag, and joel was finally out in the campsite alone. he gently pulled your letter from his pocket, the jagged edges along one side showing him that you wrote this in your journal before ripping it out. the paper was smooth under his skin, and for a moment he simply stared at his name plastered on the front in your handwriting; the way the 'l' at the end of his name sloped off into a small heart. 
a deep sigh parted his lips; somewhat from exhaustion, but mostly from the way his heartbeat kicked up just at the thought of you drawing that. 
he had to shift against the wood slightly, sparing a glance around the site to make sure no one was paying him too much attention, just so the moonlight could hit the letter just right. he still had to squint slightly to focus, but that was more because of his age than the lack of lighting (you kept teasing him about trying to find some reading glasses, and now he wondered if he did actually need them). 
with nimble fingers, he unfolded the letter and immediately his mouth quirked up in a small smirk. 
hey there, cowboy. i hope the camping life is treating you well and not wreaking havoc on that back of yours. i'm starting to wonder if you're getting too old to go on those trips. surely having a senior citizen like yourself tagging along slows y'all down, no? 
joel forced his sudden laugh into a cough, shaking his head at your attempt of a joke. it was no secret that joel was older than you, but that had never really brought up any strife in your relationship. everyone thought that you were both lucky to find something like what you had given the way the world was, that kind of storybook love people dreamed about. the kind he never imagined for himself.
you were the only one who continuously brought up the age difference, solely to crack jokes at his expense. ellie adored it, and your comments made him laugh, so he didn't really mind it. 
seriously though, i hope you're taking care of yourself out there. i know you do, but i can't help but worry a little. you're needed here, so i just want you to do whatever you need to do to come back home. i mean it.  
while you guys are gone, i think we're going to be setting up the patio area again in town since the weather is warming up. i heard maria talk about hosting another dance soon, so i'm putting it into writing that i want to dance with you at least once, miller.
 i'll beg if i have to. 
heat flamed his cheeks, his skin turning warm despite the cool breeze of spring floating through. his head tipped back, resting against the tree trunk as he closed his eyes for a moment. the two of you had only had one night together between his trips out of town, and ellie had spent the night at your house with joel that night, too. not that joel regretted that; he loved spending time together with his girls. 
but god, did he miss touching you, feeling your soft skin underneath his rough hands, your weight on top of him, underneath him, your hair between his fingers, your lips against his. all of it. the first thing he did when he got back into town was remedy that, he'd swear on it. 
i hear you coming down the stairs, so i have to wrap this up. geez, your footsteps are so loud. i love them, though. i love you, too, joel. stay safe, baby. i'll see you real soon! 
a small heart followed the last word, and his gaze lingered on it for a moment while he absorbed your letter. reading your words was like a breath of fresh air to him, letting him fill his lungs with your love even if you weren't physically there. these letters gave him the energy, the will, to continue on. to make a point to go back. 
for years, he never had anyone to return to, no one to really miss him if he were missing. he grew to accept that, felt comfortable being alone in this great, big world. he never imagined anything different, always felt he had no right wishing for something more. and now, somehow, he had two people who were eagerly anticipating his return. 
joel brushed his knuckle against the corner of his eye, collecting the small gathering of water that had collected there after finishing your letter. clearing his throat, he sat himself up against the tree, gathering his gun into his lap to be more prepared for the evening watch. he never let go of your letter, though. the feeling of rubbing it between the pads of his fingers brought him a great sense of calm. 
later, when tommy woke up to relieve joel from first watch, after he set up his sleeping bag and folded his jacket underneath him to act as a pillow, he reread your letter again and again, hearing your sweet voice in his head as he did. when he basically had it memorized, he let his hand fall to his chest. as the wind whistled through the trees, your note close to his heart, he finally allowed himself to fall asleep. 
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taglist *:·゚ @hiroikegawa
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lemarideleclerc · 2 months
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The Hardlaunch
Charles Leclerc x famous reader
Summary: you and Charles have been dating for about 7 months now and have been keeping it a secret from everyone except your tight-knit friends and family. After he wins the Grand Prix in his hometown, you guys decide to nothing in in the world mattered except one another.
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It was almost like any other Friday morning, Monte Carlo’s warm spring air waltzing through your window in a mindless manner. You had awoken comfortable and warm in your bed, the mattress only slightly distorted and your hair splayed over your pillows in a messy fashion. You unplugged your phone, lying next to you, excited as ever to dress up and sneak your way past the paparazzi into the Monaco GP. Your assistant entered your apartment, first making her presence known by two quick and prominent knocks. “Good morning, have you decided what you wanted to sport to the race today?” She quickly asked as a metal rack of pre-picked designer outfits was rolled into the entryway by one of the clearly underpaid apartment staff. Glancing at the outfits, you deciphered that some were too gaudy and chic, while others were too casual and plain. You ended up picking a medley of vintage channel from the 90’s, as well as some of your signature black sunglasses. To your ensemble, you placed one of your boyfriend’s rings on your finger, a reminder of safety and comfort for an otherwise unfamiliar situation. Your boyfriend, Charles, was the only reason you were going to the race anyway. You two were so happy together, feeling like home to one another. Although you two were going on only your 7th month of dating, you had known each other for much longer. Ever since he went backstage to find you after your headlining Coachella performance 2 years ago, you hit it off instantly. You were both nervous around each other in a timid and embarrassed manner, which still sometimes lingered around you to this day. Your relationship with Charles was quite healthy and passionate, although not public; not even to his own teammate or fellow drivers. The only people who knew about your relationship were both his and your family, and your guys’ tight-knit friends. Putting on your baby blue sun hat, you made your way down to the car, where your driver awaited you, with the help of your assistant and security detail.
After arriving at the venue and seemingly making it past the press, you flashed your padock pass to the guard, your own security guard following you. You made it front row in your own quiet little section of Ferrari’s garage, outside to see the race in the golden sun but secluded from any main cameras or tv casters. The race was tight, Your beloved Charlie fighting with Max (who you’ve actually become quite close friends with) for first position. By just a mere 1.3 seconds, Charles Leclerc had crossed that finish line first. Your heart pounded with excitement, nervousness, and an overwhelming eager causing you to shuffle his ring around your finger. Meeting him at the podium, he fought past other fans and even some relatives to get to you. The two of you exchanged glances at each other, the busy crowd coming to a mute at each other’s presence. Almost instantaneously, he wrapped his toned arms around you and picked you up, spinning you in the air. He set you down ever so delicately, and kissed you so passionately it felt like he had been gone at war for years. All of the major cameras and news outlets captured the moment live, the crowd erupting and the press having a field day. But you two didn’t care. You were happy with one another, happy with the loud and public lives you both live. “Mon Cheri” your boyfriend whispered under his breath whilst holding you to his chest. “We did it”.
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decayedgloria · 9 months
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a bouquet for your troubles
ft. Freminet
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Freminet collects a trove of treasures every time he dives, but Romaritime flowers are new.
Tags: Freminet x gn!reader, fluff, no spoilers
Word Count: 777 words (yes like actually), not proofread
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“You know what’s really amazing?” Your soft voice echoed through the empty shop, making Freminet turn his head towards you, uttering a soft ‘Hm?’
“Romaritime flowers. Y’know, I never see them but the pictures always look so pretty.” Stocking the last items of the shelf, you carefully hop down the makeshift stool you were using to reach the top shelf, placing a hand on your hip and admiring your work. “Whew, that should be the last of it on my end. Do you still need help, Freminet?”
The blond only lowered his head, almost as if he were thinking, before responding to you quietly. “Uh, no. I’m fine. Is that all you needed me to do?” Rather nervously, he began making his way closer to you, but not too close- if he were a few feet closer, maybe you’d catch the growing blush on his face. Not that it would matter, as you jovially skipped towards anyways.
“That’s all for today. Thank you so much for the help, Freminet. I really appreciate it!” You clasped his hands gently, smiling brightly at him. Freminet thanked the Archons that your eyes were shut in doing so, because it felt as if his face turned into a hot spring at that point. 
“I-It’s no problem…” He stuttered, becoming shy as you beamed at him. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty your face was, especially with how softly the early morning rays hit your face, making you akin to something divine in his eyes. 
“Well, if it doesn’t bother you, will you come and help me with my shop again sometime? I have a feeling it won’t be the last time I’ll have to do this all over again.” Despite your laughter, sheepishness was still present in your voice- and who was Freminet to deny you? Of all he’d met so far, Freminet felt comfortable around you; you were the first not to ask him about his sibling’s magic, but instead his diving. You made him your friend the second you met him, with no ulterior motives at all. 
So was it really a question that he always said yes to you?
-
A few days later, you operated your shop as usual- humming behind the counter and entertaining customers every so often. Focusing on sweeping the floor, you barely noticed the bell of your shop’s door chime, accompanied by heavy footsteps entering the shop. 
So you were a little startled when Freminet placed a bag on your counter a little too hard, making you jump in surprise. The bashful boy muttered an apology upon seeing your face, violet eyes lowering to the floor in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He shrunk into himself, preparing for you to scold him. But that never came, and instead you only grinned at how adorable he was.
“It’s okay. I suppose I should be more aware of my surroundings.” You chuckled. Taking a closer look at Freminet, you could tell that he just came back from one of his diving expeditions- his gear was still partially on, and you could smell the salty ocean scent coming from the bag. “How was diving today? Find anything new?”
Freminet finally glanced at you, albeit shyly, and opened the bag- revealing beautiful, glowing flowers. The blue and pink hues shined brightly in his hands, which were now extended to you. You gasped, realizing what exactly he had in his hands.
“These… are for you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get them.” He mumbled, almost inaudible as he held the Romaritime flowers in his hands. Excitedly, you took them, examining them with a careful eye and gentle hands. You were so immersed in them that you hadn’t noticed Freminet’s face go beet red from your fingertips brushing against his palm, awkwardly standing there while his heart pounded against his chest.
“Oh my archons, thank you so much! I have the perfect vase for these.” In your enthusiasm, you leaned over the counter and placed a chaste kiss on Freminet’s cheek, causing him to freeze. Though you didn’t pay any mind as you procured a vase from the back of your shop, leaving behind a stunned and overheating Freminet by his lonesome.
It was… foreign. Your lips were extremely soft, and even if it was for a second, the area you kissed still burned with warmth. His thoughts were scrambled as he came to terms with what just happened, and how he felt about it. When he asked Lynette about it later, he came to a similar conclusion:
He’d just have to give you more flowers so you could give him more kisses.
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this was a palate cleanser bc i have the most devious, filthy, sinful smut for wriosthesly and disheartening, depressing, downright atrocious angst for neuvillette coming up hehehehe 😈
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nyx-is-missing · 4 months
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SUNSET PART 1
Or early summer!
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Clarisse La Rue x Cassandra De Young (oc! Apollo's kid)
Summary: When Cassandra gets involved in a scandal early in the day, she goes to camp early.
Warnings: men....thats all i could think of actualy.
First read this!
Part 2 is here!
Cassandra De Young
Im fucked.
That's it, that's all i can say.
I knew it as soon as my hand reached his face and stinged, as soon as i heard a camera's flash, and as soon as i stepped into my mom's apartment.
Let's just rewind a bit, okay?
My family own a big business, that you already know by now, the thing is, when they reeaally want to do business with someone they go extreme, the most common technique is to get on the good side of everyone in the family, everyone.
They research, pretend to have things in common, to like the same things, to have the same views of life, and to make it more believable they always go for the person who is closest in age with them.
Usually i dont get involved in this situations because im younger than everyone else, the only teen in the family.
The thing is, this family also had someone around my age.
A 18 year old guy.....eighteen.
Let me tell you, i really wasn't going for trouble today, i tought he may be a normal guy, just with a little money, someone i could have a conversation with, drink some coffe, laugh and go back home and think "hey, not so bad"
He.was.not.
All he could talk about is how much money his family had, where he went for winter break, his pure blood horse, that only ate (attention to this one) IMPORTED GRASS.
Overall a huge dick.
But that i could handle, i've met people like this, i could handle a shitty talk for some hours, what i could not handle was having to go through all this with his hand on my knee bellow the table.
And here i was, spending one of my last days of spring being tortured by the fates.
"You're not paying much attention to the conversation are you?" He said, and gods that accent was almost making me want to jump out of a cliff, or push him out of a cliff, both would work.
"Oh sorry i was-"
"No need to apologize, people get bored i know" Not that he did something criminal by not letting me finish my sentence but, my gods every action coming from him its making me want to die right now "Its okay, i could find some way to make you focus"
Okay, im done
"Im gonna need you to stop saying odd shit" I looked him dead in the eye with a bothered look, and by the surprised look he gave me back i was 100% sure nobody ever told him to shut up when he was saying nonsense.
"C'mon, dont be like that-" he said trying to get his hand a little but upwards, and i only realized i slapped him when i felt my hand burning.
"Oh my gods im sorry i-" And then i heard the camera flashes.
Im going to need you to imagine the scene, my hand was still up, his hand was till on his cheek, and he had a scared look in his face, as did most of the people at the fancy coffe shop.
Do i smile now? Strike a pose? This one is definetly getting front pages at every place.
I chose the safest choice, got out of that straight to my house.
No..i did not payed the bill.
The whole way home i was trying really hard to think of something to say that was not going to make my family mad, especially my grandfather, but considering whe has always mad with something, that felt like a impossible mission.
First thing i saw when i opened the door of the penthouse was my mom, standing in front of the television, and sure enough, my face was on it.
She turned to me, but before she could even say something i started to explain myself.
"Its not what it looks like mom, i swear, i didn't do it on pourpose, let me explain please-" i couldnt actually read the look on her face, but she didnt say anything, so  i took that as a go ahead.
When i explained her what happened her face relaxed a bit, but not completely, and she had a look that said your grandpa is getting in my nerves because of this.
"I'll talk to your grandfather about this, but you need to know that the way you acted wasn't appropriate, there is cameras all around and you need to be careful...lets just thank the gods you didnt pulled out a dagger right?" She walked closer to me, and i knew she was trying to comfort me, its a pitty actually, i knew she didnt wanted kids when she had me, i knew how grandpa treated her when he found out, to me, it was enough that she at least tried to love me enough.  "You already have your things packed to camp right? I know you have some more days of school but ill call them and tell them you are sick, its best for you to leave earlier this year, then your grandfather wont talk your ears out...you okay with that?"
"Yes mama, ill just finish packing some small things...do i leave today?" I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard a silent im sorry.
"Yes, but dont be like that, think that you at least wont have to see the news talking about you..youll just be there, with your siblings, eating strawberies and..whatever else demigods do daily, right?"
Like i said, it is enough to me that she tries, even when she isnt great all the time, i know people who dont even have this.
I nodded and went to my room, making sure not to accidentally hit a new sculpture, placed in the corridor.
I didnt wait for her when i finished packing.
I knew she wouldnt be the one to take me there, she never is, she has things to do with the family business, its what ive always heard.
So when i got to the underground garage with my bags i automatically searched for one of the family drivers, sure enough, he was there.
He was a nice guy, but quiet, i knew that he probably had orders not to talk to the family members unless spoken to, grandpa did this with all of them, i also knew he never actually knows where hes been taking me, he takes me there almos every year, but always stops at the road in front of the forest, maybe this sad look he has on his face its because he thinks he is taking me to one of those crazy wilderness therapies as a punishment.
Granpa would absolutely do that if he hadnt had to live with a great public appearence.
"Miss? We are here" He looked at me in the rearview mirror, i only realized i had doze of when my eyes met his and i blinked. "Hold on tight, im going to help you with your luggage okay?"
"Oh..thank you mr bell" He opened the trunk, and then the back door for me, extending his hand to help me get out of the car "thank you, again"
"Sure miss, just let me take your bags out and we are all set okay?-"
Another car dor noise made us both look to the right, to find Clarisse La rue, closing a taxi door, with just one big suitcase in hand.
Now, my story with Clarisse is kind of complicated, i've met her when he were, eight i guess, her family bought some shares in the family business and we saw each other very regulaly, and ever since then everything everyone told me about her is that she is a troublesome girl, that i should stay far.
But she was the one who realized i was a demigodess, and took me straight to camp when a monster found me, and she was the one who, many times when we were little, comforted me when my family made me cry.
It seems like she forgot all of that because she never even looks at me.
If you ask her, she has never even met me at all actually.
"Clarisse, you're early"
"Cassandra, you too-"
"Cass actually, i prefer cass" i corrected her, to wich she just rolled her eyes and muffled a whatever. "Thats all you are taking? One suitcase?"
"And you are taking all that? How do you plan on walking the whole way with all that? Im assuming he wont go with you" she said looking at mr bell, and its true, he could not walk the whole way with me, and i could not walk with all that alone...fuck
"....you could help m-"
"No, dont even think about it"
"C'mon Clarisse!" She didnt even answered me this time actually. "Arent you a Ares-" i looked at the driver taking the suitcases out. "A ares...type of kid? You will pass on the oportunity to demonstrate your muscles or whatever?"
She started to walk away with a bored look, did i already said fuck?
"C'mon ill do whatever! I- i dont know.. 20 dracmas!, no?, ill help you with the cleaning duty you'll eventually have when you fuck it up? I..ill do that AND ill cure you anytime you want, everyday, no matter the time!"
She stopped walking.
Yes! I knew it, one of the many problems clarisse had its that she likes to go out at night to train alone, and when she gets hurt she cant ask anyone to help her, because she would get caught
"Give me those suitcases already and shut up-" she was interrupted by a very happy me hugging her.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyouclarisse!"
I felt her hands on my arms and realized she was going to push me away, so i took a step back
"Geez Clarisse, you could've just told me to back off, dont be like that... just take these and ill take those"
I said pointing to the suitcases, and saying goodbye to mr bell.
Can i already welcome summer and his crazy energy? No? Okay.
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