#but I’m also tired because it’s so expensive to just live
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just-rogi · 8 months ago
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Why is liquid IV so expensive??? What the fuck I’m just trying not to pass out??
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raeathnos · 6 months ago
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#hello hi I am so fucking burnt out 🫠 pls forgive me if I’m inactive for a bit or real fucking weird if I am here#I was supposed to have a 3 day weekend but an hour before I was done it got turned into another 6 day week soooooo 🙃#we had terrible storms yesterday and I worked with no power and then came home to no power (it didn’t come back till 8:40pm hELP)#cat had a vet appointment which ended up being super emotionally draining and upsetting#his heart disease has worsened and he’s on more medication#and though none of these things are ever set in stone it’s looking more and more likely that he won’t live as long as a typical cat#I uh thought I was okay and then just kind of completely broke down sobbing last night#and I can’t really think too hard about it without bursting right back into tears#he’s only 6 and a half and the sweetest cat and it’s not fair#trying to stay positive but I feel so bad for him#gonna love him as much as I can for as long as he’s here which is hopefully still for a long while#it’s not a dire situation it’s just the disease progressing but like it’s still hard#dealing with too much rn#we were expecting the vet bill to be about $400 but then opted to do a few extra things and it pushed it to $750 so ouch#we’re fine we had it saved but you know how it is#he expensive but he’s worth every penny <3#I also injured my knee so that’s fun- tore something in it I think#it’s not as bad as it was but it’s still painful and swollen and hard to bend#my dumbass is going hiking tomorrow despite this because it’s the first weekend that isn’t supposed to rain since like March#so as soon as I get out of work tomorrow I’m fucking off into the woods for a few hours to go be feral#probably bad for the knee but it’ll be good for the mental health#works only a half shiift tomorrow too and I’ll be done in the am so it should still feel like a long weekend#kinda bummed about it still tho#pls stop depending on me to pick up everyone’s slack kthnxbye#I’m so fucking tired 🫠#on the bright side I have next weekend requested off and it’s only gonna be a 4 day work week because of the holiday#there’s a rock and mineral show here next weekend and I am very excited#gonna buy some neat rocks hopefully 👍🏻#and assuming the weather is good next weekend and my knee doesn’t worsen I’m gonna fuck off into the woods again afterwards to be feral#gotta go rot in the woods for a bit to fix the soul; yall know how it is
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lemonlover1110 · 6 months ago
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 1] Offerings
Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty. 
He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is. 
He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem. 
“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two. 
“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.
“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.
“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”
“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.
“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.
Sukuna wants a successor. 
“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.
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“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important. 
It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.
“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”
“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.
“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”
There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”
“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up. 
“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come. 
“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”
“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,
“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”
You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself. 
“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next. 
You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.
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“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.
“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you. 
You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.
“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”
“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”
He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.
What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.
“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”
“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.
“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”
Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.
“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”
“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.  
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear. 
“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then. 
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”
“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”
“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”
“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody. 
You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.
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nope-body · 2 years ago
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#honestly just so tired of my roommate at this point#it feels like she doesn’t respect me as a person most of the time#she has made so many jokes at my expense and I’m tired of it#she doesn’t understand or try to understand me#she’s not kind or compassionate#she was on her phone while I was throwing up and I had to ask her for help to get her to even look at me#like if throwing up makes you uncomfortable I get it but like come on!#her apologies are never her actually recognizing that she hurt me and that was wrong#just an explanation of why she thought it was fine#and then a little sorry that it hurt you/you felt hurt kind of thing tacked on at the end#tonight it was just ‘sorry. I didn’t think that would upset you.’#but I like my room and I like living in my dorm and I’m not risking changing rooms and ending up in a dorm without a working elevator#so I’ll deal and stuff but just. being disabled puts me at a huge disadvantage here#and she’s gradually gotten better about disability stuff but that’s because I’ve had to explain things every step of the way#but also like. she payed money to get a second number to prank text me with and sure the mystery was a bit fun but after I had completely#forgotten about the whole thing she went and told a bunch of people about how she duped me for a month and I never found out.#I was right there. she told me first and then explained that to everyone else. and it just. I don’t like being made a fool of in front of a#bunch of people! she could have kept it to herself and let it fade away but no.#I’m just frustrated
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cherryobx · 5 months ago
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Illicit affairs
a/n: last fic of my 2.4k picnic! thank u all for requesting and participating! i love yall! also, this song is so Rafe fr
pairing: Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader
summary: you're tired of keeping your relationship a secret
warnings: rafe is a simp but also so stupid, language, like one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of alcohol, drugs and doing them (idk if i missed anything but if i did pls let me know)
wc: 4.3k
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Even though it wasn’t technically wrong in any way, it seemed that way. People in Kildare had been separated into two for so long that it made it almost sinful or illegal in a sense for a pogue and a kook to be together. But you loved him. You loved Rafe.
You met him at Midsummers. Sarah begged you to go with her because she didn’t want to go alone and converse with all the snotty kooks there, even though she herself was a part of that society unfortunately. She just needed someone there for her so she could make this evening a bit less insufferable.
“It doesn’t seem so bad, to be honest,” you said looking around yourself and the people there who were dressed in all kinds of fancy outfits. You yourself included.
Sarah offered to buy you a dress. You denied her offer at first but after rummaging through your own closet you finally said yes to her. You didn’t have anything to wear to an event like that. You also didn’t want people to make fun of you or notice immediately that you definitely didn’t belong there.
Sarah was happy to help you out and go shopping together. It took you a whole day to find something you not only liked but felt confident in. You also kept your eye on the price tags and made sure to not pick anything super expensive because you were planning on paying her back. Even though she insisted that it was a gift and she didn’t want your money.
“Trust me. It will get worse as people drink. They start getting chatty and ask too many questions that I don’t wanna answer.” She scoffed and took a sip of her champagne flute.
“Like what?” you asked curiously.
“Every year they’re like ‘are you seeing anyone’, ‘what college are you going to’, ‘planning on getting married’ or stuff like that. Like let me live. It’s none of their business. One time this older lady kept telling me I needed to lose weight. Like what? It’s insane.”
Your eyes are wide in slight shock. “Yeah, they never know when to shut up, do they?” 
“No, they do not.”
And then your eyes met his. He was standing across the room with a bunch of his friends. Rafe tilted his head as he looked at you curiously. You felt almost exposed under his gaze. There was a small smirk on his face as he raised his glass, saluting you, before downing its contents with one gulp. 
You were sure he knew you weren’t a kook. He saw right through you. But you didn’t find it in you to care. 
You mimicked his actions and the smirk on his face grew into a smile.
You kept stealing glances at each other throughout the night and once Sarah was pulled away by some of her acquaintances, Rafe made his move
He was standing at your side in a second. “You lost?”
“Why would I be lost?” you asked, turning your head so you could look up at him.
“Because you don’t belong here, sweetheart.” 
Your heart rate picked up at the pet name he used, making you nervous. He was so attractive, although you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. He looked really good in his suit. He wasn’t wearing a tie and the first couple buttons of his shirt were undone.
“That obvious?” You chuckled and took a sip of your champagne.
“Surprisingly not really. But I’ve seen you running around with your pogue friends so I know you’re not a kook.”
“That I am not. But I’m a friend of Sarah’s. She invited me here so please don’t rat me out,” you pleaded.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl. See you around.” He left as suddenly as he arrived, leaving you standing there with a dumbfounded look on your face and a stomach full of butterflies. 
Pretty girl.
Somehow, through many coincidences, you and Rafe kept seeing each other around more often. At Tannyhill when you were visiting Sarah, at your work, on the street. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him around before but it was weird how you seemed to run into him much more after the Midsummer incident.
Your relationship with Rafe took off after one night at Tannyhill when you couldn’t sleep so you wandered around the house and ran into Rafe in the kitchen who was getting a late night snack.
“Well look who it is?” He smirked. “Isn’t that my favorite pogue?”
“Am I not the only pogue you’re not absolutely disgusted by?” You asked and hopped onto the kitchen island, sitting there and dangling your legs.
Rafe took in your appearance. You were wearing shorts and a large hoodie. You looked really cozy. He almost wanted to tuck you to bed and give you a goodnight kiss, which he realized was an absolute crazy thought to have.
“Hence why you’re my favorite.” He stood next to you, booped your nose, and leaned against the counter, facing you. 
“Want one?” He held out a small bowl full of strawberries that he had previously washed and removed the tops from.
“Sure. Thanks.” You looked at him for a second before taking one from the bowl and popping it into your mouth. It seemed insane to be on speaking terms with the Rafe Cameron who was known for being an asshole to pogues.
Another thought you had, which you also thought was an insane one, was that he was beautiful. He had always been extremely handsome but in that moment, in the moonlight, he was breathtaking.
“You’re thinking really loud,” he commented after catching you staring at him with a disconnected look in your eyes.
You’re shaken from your trance and your eyes meet his. “What?”
“I said you’re thinking loud, kid.” 
Again with the nicknames. You were pretty certain he knew what he was doing.
“Oh umm…” you started but then he scooted closer to you and all thoughts vanished from your head.
And he noticed. Of course he noticed. Rafe was not stupid. He knew what kind of effect he had on girls. But he liked your reactions especially. He found himself liking you, actually. He never thought he’d like a pogue, that he’d not be repulsed by one. But with you it seemed to be the opposite. He was drawn to you.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asks. He pushed himself off the counter, putting down his bowl of strawberries, and forced himself between your legs. You instinctively made more room for him, accommodating his large frame in your space.
“Nothing much.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You were so deep in thought just a second ago.”
He places his hands on your bare thighs, feeling your warm skin under his palms. You looked down and saw how big his hands were and swallowed thickly.
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t be coy. Share with the class.”
You laughed. “What class, Rafe?” 
He smiled. “Come on, baby. Don’t be shy. I shared my strawberries with you.”
“A strawberry for my thoughts?”
His smile widened, revealing his perfect teeth. “Exactly.”
“What do you wanna know?” You raise an eyebrow at him in question.
He shrugs. “Just what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking that the moonlight is very pretty.” It was not completely a lie but also not the full truth. And Rafe knew that.
He squeezed your thighs with his hands. “What else?”
“That you’re really close to me.” He leaned even closer at that. He was so close your noses were almost touching. His eyes darted to your lips for a second before he looked back up at your eyes.
“Are you bothered by that?”
“No.”
“Anything else on your mind?” You couldn’t help but look down at his lips too. It was just a second but Rafe caught that. Of course he did.
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” you confirmed, obviously not being honest. There were about a million scenarios in your head at that moment and all of them included Rafe’s lips on yours and his tongue in your mouth.
“Fucking liar.”
“I’m not lying,” you tried to deny it but he saw right through you.
“You’re not lying?”
You shook your head.
“Is that so?” 
You nodded. Rafe smiled and leaned in. Your lips were just about to touch.”Why are you lying to me?”
You open your mouth to once again deny his claims but he interrupted you even before you could begin. “Be honest, baby.”
Baby.
“I’m thinking about your lips.” You were almost shocked at your own words, they just slipped out. 
“My lips? What about them?” He knew exactly what you meant but found joy in teasing the living hell out of you.
“They look so kissable.” You were wondering if you were drunk because you’d never say stuff like that to him of all people in the daylight.
“Then you should probably find out if they are as kissable as they look.”
You blinked at him. “Why are you acting like this?”
He looked confused as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“You’re flirting with me. And touching me.”
“So? Can’t I? Say the word and I’ll back off.”
“No, it’s just that I’m a pogue. Don’t you like want to light me on fire and stuff?”
His forehead fell to your shoulder as he chuckled. “Light you on fire? You’re funny, kid.”
Kid.
“Don’t you?”
He raised his head and looked you in the eyes again. “I would like to do many things to you but lighting you on fire is not one of them.”
“Then why are you flirting with me?”
“Is it that crazy that I actually like you? That I’m attracted to you?”
“Kind of,” you admit. 
“Why?”
“Because you’re a kook? Because you’re insanely hot and I can’t imagine you wanting anything to do with me?”
“You think I’m hot?”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.”
“You know what else is big?” He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked knowingly.
You gave him a gentle shove but laughed nonetheless. “Shut up.”
He laughed alongside you and it felt good. It was fun. He was fun. You never thought you could use that word to describe Rafe but that’s how it felt.
When your laughter died down he got this look in his eyes that could only be described as ‘hungry’. He wanted something, craved something.
Automatically you angled your body towards his. It was like something was pulling you. A magnet of sorts, perhaps.
Once again you found yourself close. You were too close for a pogue and a kook anyway but too close for two random people as well.
His eyes met yours in a plea. And you took the leap, leaning in and connecting your lips. He didn’t waste a second to kiss you back. It was slow and almost sweet at first, experimental. But then it got heated. Hands everywhere.
You didn’t find it in yourself to care about the consequences or future in that moment. You didn’t care that it was socially not acceptable for you to be making out with a kook. You just didn’t care. You just wanted to kiss him.
After that night, these meetings started happening intentionally. Sometimes Rafe sneaked into your house, other times you snuck into his. You found each other at every party, every event. It became serious. But both of you knew that this was meant to be a secret. This relationship was only for you two, no one else.
“Make sure no one sees you, okay?” You stood on your front porch, Rafe in front of you who was about to leave. He had spent the night but had to leave before your parents woke up. They’d kill you if they knew you were dating a kook, Rafe Cameron at that. The sun was starting to rise and the birds were chirping. It was a beautiful morning.
You grabbed the hood of his hoodie and pulled it up to cover him up as much as possible. You didn’t want to risk anything.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll take the other route, no one really uses it.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “Bye, baby.”
“Bye.” You waved him off and watched him drive away.
Soon, your friends started suspecting that something was going on. They saw how happy and glowing you looked, tremendously more than you usually were, but couldn’t figure out for the life of them what or who exactly it was.
“What’s got you in such a good mood lately?” Kie asked one day when all of you were sitting in John B’s backyard, you, Kie, and Sarah in the hammock and the guys in lawn chairs.
You shrugged “It’s summer.”
“Bullshit,” JJ scoffed.
“Bullshit?” Did they really see right through you?
“Yeah. I’ve never seen you like this,” he commented, narrowing his eyes at you like he was trying to see into your brain and what was going on in there.
“Like what?”
They all looked at each other, speaking only with their eyes. That meant that they had discussed this topic previously and were hesitant to bring up their suspicions.
“You seem…in love,” Sarah said. It was actually kind of ironic how she was the one who spoke up. If she only knew it was her own brother who you were seeing.
“In love? What?” You tried to play it off by acting confused. “I'm as single as ever.”
Pope rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah right. You know you’re a horrible liar right?”
“Shut up.”
“We’re going to find out eventually who this mystery lover is. It’s either you tell us or we’ll do some investigating.”
You suddenly became nervous. “Just drop it guys. Okay?”
They raised their hands in surrender but exchanged quick looks with each other which told you that the topic wasn’t as much as dropped as it was postponed.
Later that night you snuck off to see Rafe. You excused yourself and lied that you were tired and your head was hurting. They didn’t seem convinced but didn’t start prying either. You made sure you weren’t followed when you biked to Tannyhill. 
Sneaking into his house wasn’t very hard. The place is huge, so many doors to enter through without being seen.
He met you at the staircase and dragged you to his room.
“They suspect that I’m seeing someone.” You were laying between Rafe’s big arms in his bed under the covers, all cozy and warm. Your back was against his chest, his body curled around yours. It made you feel very safe,
“Who?”
“My friends, your sister.”
“Wheezie?”
“No, Sarah, you idiot.” He laughed and then placed a kiss on your shoulder, the action making you feel all giddy inside.
“They won’t find out. They’re stupid.”
“Hey!” You furrowed your brows. “Don’t call them that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a part of that group. By calling them stupid, you’re calling me stupid.”
“Who said you aren’t stupid?” You just knew he was smirking.
“Asshole.”
“You love me.”
“Are you sure about that?” You turned around in his arms and looked at him, a smirk on your face.
“Yes.” He said confidently, placing a soft kiss on your nose before pressing one to your lips. You closed your eyes in bliss, relishing in the feeling.
Weeks turned into months and so far into your relationship you had managed to hide it and be with him undetected. Your friends tried to do some detective work but unsuccessfully so.
“Aren’t you tired?” Sarah asked one night when you were sitting in John B’s backyard once again, just chilling and spending time with each other.
“Of what?”
“Of hiding your relationship.”
There was a beat of silence. You thought about what she said. And she was right. You were kind of tired, obviously not of Rafe but all the sneaking around and almost never seeing each other in the daylight. You love being with him and love spending time with him but sometimes you actually wanted to be out in public with him. To go on dates or the beach together or whatever normal couples did.
And you wanted to be with him without hiding it. Without either of you caring about what others might think. Without there being judgment from people closest to you.
“I have to go.” You stood up.
“What? Why? I’m sorry if what I said upset you.” Sarah jumped up too, grabbing your wrist to stop you.
“No, it’s not that. I just have to go.”
You texted Rafe to meet you at a random parking lot where he sometimes picked you up. You arrived before him and paced around nervously, biting the skin on the inside of your lips.
He pulled up about 10 minutes later, parked the car and then got out, hurrying to you. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
He placed his hands on your arms and looked you in the eyes with a worried expression, searching for the answer in your eyes.
“I’m fine, Rafe. I just needed to talk to you.”
He furrowed his brows and stood up taller. “Okay. What is it?”
“Sarah said something tonight and it made me think.”
Rafe rolled his eyes at that. “Sarah?”
You nodded. “She asked me if I was tired of hiding us, our relationship.”
“And?”
“I am. I’m so tired, Rafe. Aren’t you?” You asked, looking him in the eyes.
He contemplated for a second. “I am. But there isn’t really anything we could do about it, right?”
“We could just say fuck it and go public?” you asked, voice filled with hope.
“Go public? No, that’s not a good idea.” He shook his head, shooting down your idea immediately.
You were taken aback by that. “You said you were tired too?”
“Yes but this,” he pointed a finger back and forth between you two, “going public will ruin both of us.”
“Will it? We don’t know that, Rafe. We can’t possibly know that.”
“It most definitely will,” he argued.
“How can you be so sure?”
“We’re supposed to hate each other.”
“So? I love you, Rafe. I don’t care anymore. I wanna be your girlfriend everywhere, not just your bedroom or this random-ass parking lot. I want to be your girlfriend during the day too, not just night. Don’t you want that?”
“Of course I do but it’s not that simple. You’re asking for a lot.”
You took a step back, away from him. “I’m asking for a lot? I want us to be normal!”
“Baby.” He tried to get closer again but you just backed up again.
“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me right now! Do you even love me?” You were beginning to feel frustrated and that brought tears to your eyes.
“Of course I love you! You knew that this is what it was going to be like when we started dating. You knew!” He was clearly angry and frustrated too.
You took in a shaky breath. Rafe’s constantly angry but it’s never been directed towards you before.
“Then I can’t do this anymore.”
“Kid-” he said, voice now quieter, almost pleading.
“No, I can’t do this to myself.” You turned around and hurried towards your bike which was lying next to the curb. 
“Let’s just talk about this!” he called after you.
“Clearly there’s nothing to talk about anymore.” You looked back at him.
“I love you.”
“Do you?” you asked, eyes filled with tears.
“Of course I do.”
“Then why don’t you want to be with me?”
“I do want to be with you but what we have is complicated.”
“It’s really not, Rafe.” You got on your bike and pedaled away as quickly as possible. You didn’t greet your parents as you got home and stormed past them to your room where you finally broke down.
You loved him. Of course you loved him. But you were tired and he wasn’t willing to compromise. 
Days passed and you barely left your room. All you did was wallow in sadness and cry yourself to sleep every night. And even then you didn’t get any peace because he even filled your dreams. You couldn’t get a break.
Rafe was absolutely miserable too, lashing out at everyone, breaking furniture and punching walls. He couldn’t sleep so he sat on the balcony the whole night, occasionally doing a line or smoking something to make him feel better but it never worked, he couldn’t get the heartbreaking look of you in that parking lot out of his head. 
It was a warm summer night a couple of days after your breakup. Rafe was smoking a joint on the balcony at Tannyhill when Sarah approached him, keeping her distance just in case. She stood by the door and leaned against the frame.
“You should go after her.”
Rafe turned around and stared at his sister. “What?”
Sarah said your name and Rafe swore his heart skipped a beat, or stopped working completely. 
“Why the hell should I talk to her. She’s your friend,” he scoffed and took another hit, looking at the treeline.
“You love her.” 
His head snapped towards Sarah.
“I know, Rafe.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you think you know but you don’t. So get lost.”
“It wasn’t really hard to figure out,” she continued. “I’ve never seen you actually happy before, you know?”
“Go annoy someone else.” He looks away before taking a big breath to calm his racing heart.
“It’s not the end of the world to love a pogue, Rafe. It’s literally not that big of a deal. You’re so stupid.”
He sighed before he spoke. He couldn’t believe he was about to actually talk to Sarah of all people about this. “It’s not just that.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue and explain what he meant by that.
Another sigh. “She’s the first girl I’ve ever loved and I pussied out when she told me she wanted to stop hiding.”
“Go talk to her.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Of course it is.”
“She loves you, Rafe, for whatever reason. I hate seeing her suffer. I don’t care that much about you but your actions are what caused this. So fix it so I can have my friend back.”
“You’re so annoying, y’know that?” His blunt had run out and he put the butt into the ashtray, then pushing past Sarah into the house
“Where are you going?” She whipped around and followed Rafe down the stairs.
“Where do you think I’m going, dumbass?” 
“Say hi for me.” 
“I won’t.” He slammed the door and got in his car, making the drive across town to your house. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. That he’s sorry? That’s pathetic.
He stopped the car on the side of the road and walked up to your house, picking up pebbles as he went.
He threw one against your bedroom window. The sound was loud in the quiet of the night but you didn’t open the window on the first try like he had hoped.
He threw one more. And then one after that. He kept trying until you pulled open the window, staring down at him. “What the hell do you want?” you hissed.
“I love you. I was an idiot. I was a pussy and I made a big deal about something that isn’t even that important. I love you and I don’t care who knows. I want you to be mine 24/7. I knew I was going to love you from the moment I saw you at Midsummers. I’m a fucking fool and I’ve never deserved you in the first place. I’ve never deserved your love but I need it. I can’t live without your love. You’re like a drug and I cannot live without you. I can’t get you out of my damn head. I’m half the man that I could be when I’m without you. You’re the first girl I’ve ever loved and I promise I will try to be worthy of you and your love for as long as you’ll have me. I want you to be my girlfriend officially. I want to show you off and take you on dates. I want to introduce you to my dad. I just want you. I will love you in private and in public, when we’re alone and when with friends. I promise. Please, just give me another chance. I’m sorry.”
Rafe watched you disappear from the window and his heart sunk. He tried. He turned to leave but then heard the front door open and saw you sprinting towards him in your cute pajamas and messy hair.
He caught you in his arms, holding you close to his chest so tight you thought you were going to suffocate.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you mumble against his t-shirt.
“I know.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“You will have to do a lot of groveling.”
“I will, I promise.”
You raised your head from his chest, looking up at him. “Did you really mean all that?”
“I did and I do. I love you and it shouldn’t matter if we’re from the opposite sides of an island. It’s not important in the slightest because I love you and that’s all that matters.”
“Do you wanna come inside?” you asked.
“Thought you’d never ask.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you to his side as you made your way back towards the house. He pressed a lingering kiss to your hair, keeping his lips there.
“I love you, kid.”
“I love you too, baby.”
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miley1442111 · 8 months ago
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the problem with arguing
a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner
summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?
warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.
1.6k + words.
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“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 
I knock again as I huff. 
“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 
“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 
“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 
A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 
“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 
My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 
The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 
“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 
“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 
“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 
He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”
We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.
And that’s when it all goes black. 
I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 
“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 
I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 
“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.
Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 
“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 
“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 
“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 
I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 
I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 
“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 
“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 
“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 
Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”
I smile at both of them. 
“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 
“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 
“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 
Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 
The next day, the team come in to visit. 
“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 
“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”
“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 
“We got the guy-” Emily starts.
“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”
“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”
I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 
“Hungry?” He smiles. 
“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”
“No.” 
My face drops. “Oh.” 
“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I did.” 
I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”
“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”
“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 
His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 
“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 
“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 
“I love you too.”
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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago
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Picture credit: xbruised_peachx on Twitter
Sorry but I’m on my young recruit König & old colonel König brainrot again
CW: More polyamory headcanons with 2 Königs. Healthy relationship with old König and toxic relationship with young König, possessive behaviour, jealousy, NSFW 18+ only
The way he greets you when he comes back is so sweet you almost melt right there on the doorstep. He cups your face with both hands, gives you the most tender kiss known to mankind, and envelops you in a soul-warming hug. The love of your life sighs deeply as he holds you; his sweet, adorable wife. The Colonel may be a little tired but he's also extremely happy to be home again.
Colonel König, the older, calmer version of König is everything a woman could want. You married him early because he charmed you right off your feet.
You ride him on the first night because you simply want to show how much you've missed him. Colonel König never objects to you taking the reins every now and then. You see it from his eyes that he’s in seventh heaven whenever you bounce on his cock. He’s just happy to see you take your pleasure from him. He’s the luckiest man on earth because his needy young wife never gets enough of him – it strokes his ego that someone like you wants someone like him.
He always puts his things where they belong and takes a shower before walking into the living room and falling on the sofa with another deep sigh. He looks like he just fought an entire war by himself. When you go to make some dinner, he bounces back up and offers to help. You have to convince him that he can rest while you prepare some food. When you return with the meal, the tv is on but the Colonel is snoring softly on the couch.
He praises you and the meal, and you both talk about your days (or weeks). It calms your nerves just to talk with him. Colonel König is cultured and mature and you can talk to him about politics or the squirrels in your garden or some new documentary you've watched. He can hold any conversation.
He's illegally hot with his deep voice and loving stare, not to mention the thick muscles covered by a healthy layer of fat. You pride yourself on giving him some of that by feeding him so well. He already has a few laugh lines at the corner of his eyes – you pride yourself on giving those to him, too.
In the morning he’s much more vigorous. A good night's rest does wonders to any man, and König wakes up to cuddle you with a good, hard, thick erection. If you’re still sleepy, he will go down on you – he loves it when you’re too tired and warm and pleased to fight him.
He edges you for at least an hour: now it’s his turn to show how much he has missed you and how much he appreciates it that he has a cozy, beautiful home and a lovely, beautiful wife to return to. He’s sure he won the lottery with you, and you’re sure you’ve been blessed with the most attentive gentleman on earth. You feel like floating before you even get to the breakfast table.
Colonel König brings you small gifts and expensive flowers everytime he comes home, and takes you on a vacation to a new, exciting place every chance he can get, which is multiple times a year. You never have to ask for anything because he already got it for you.
You never have to fear you’re too much, or too moody, too this or too that: König appreciates you just the way you are and takes your fits and breakdowns and insecurities and PMS struggles like a champ. He stays calm during any storm and you can always trust him with all your troubles. You stopped apologizing for yourself an aeon ago because you know König doesn’t want to hear it: he only wants to comfort and console you when life has been hard on you. He will do anything to make it better, and if he can’t make it better, he will hold you long and fast until you smile again.
He takes such good care of you that you cried into his chest hair about it once. König only caressed you and said you deserve all of it and more. You could hear the calm, content smile on his lips while you were ugly crying about him being too good for you and spoiling you to bits.
When you asked if there’s anything you can do to return the many favors he’s given you, his face turned super smug before he suggested that you could always blow him. That’s probably the most obscene thing you've ever heard him say, which is why your face was all flushed when you travelled down to suck his already hard cock.
If only he didn’t have to repair the damage left behind by his younger version, you two would be the happiest couple this world has ever seen. Life would be peaceful and his home would stay nice and clean if the young, horny recruit had never walked into your life. He would have more energy and he could go back to work with a peaceful mind if it weren’t for this boy who has yet to learn how to be a man. A boy he couldn't deny you because you must always have everything you want; it's a law he lives by. You saved him from himself, and he will see you happy no matter what.
For some reason a troubled, violent young pup who shows a woman he loves them by bullying and fucking them to a quivering heap is what makes you happy at this point in life. Perhaps it's only a bonus that the rookie takes the blunt of your libido... otherwise he might be in trouble with his younger wife.
It’s just that the Colonel knows he can’t satisfy all your needs. You have a dark side, which he appreciates, and he thinks he’s being a good man when he allows this to happen. He's a good man, both to you and to the rookie who is the cockiest and also the most deranged, damaged little creature he has ever seen.
He tries his best to carve a man out of this poor, traumatized young bastard. He tries his best to give you the opportunity to live your life to the full by having two men who absolutely and utterly worship you... in their own ways.
Because when Young Recruit König comes home?
He’s not tired at all. He’s just excited and pent-up from being away from you for so long. He greets you by lifting you into a bone-crushing hug, sets you down when you whimper, and buries his face into your neck. You never get a kiss on the lips or a peck on the cheek: young König gives you a long, bruising love bite on your neck while you squirm and whine in his hold. He's something of a sadist when he only laughs and asks, “How has my sweet little Muschi* been...?” *Muschi means pussy in German :(
He doesn’t offer to help, he just throws his bags on the floor and asks what’s for dinner. If you have it ready, he nuzzles his face into your neck again and says how much he loves you, how perfect you are, and how he’s going to show how much he missed you after he's had a taste of your delicious cookings.
You watch how he eats almost all of it, a meal meant for an entire family. Colonel König eats like a horse, too, but he’s modest compared to our young rookie who goes to the gym in addition to his hectic job and probably burns 4000 calories per day just by daydreaming of filthy scenarios with you.
Don’t even think about riding him slowly into the sunset. Young König takes you while you’re on your knees, your ass and pussy exposed to his hungry gaze and hard cock. It borders on humiliating sometimes, the way he treats you. You grab for support from the sheets, knowing that it’s useless.
You’re in luck if you happen to cum, because the first round is just him using his little muschi, the tight, sweet hole he’s missed so much. He sounds like an animal until he cums, then kisses you all over when he’s done. You both sound like you're about to cry as he gives you hot, fond smooches where it tickles the most, getting some kind of sick satisfaction from the way you squirm and shudder in his hold again.
Round two is much more gentle and König is way more attentive, now focusing solely on you. Or at least on how you look under him, how desperate and wet your eyes get, how your tits bounce when he makes love to you. Well, you wouldn’t say that the younger version of König even knows how to make love – the old Colonel has tried to teach him, but he seems to get very pissed at anyone telling him what to do and how to do it. Plus he knows he can give you what the old man can or will not: a rough fucking that leaves you breathless, helpless and very much in love.
Because even if the first time is pure madness, the sessions that follow are made of intense adoration. König is obsessed with you and your desperate moans, your tight, wet cunt, the way he can make you cum three or four or even five times a day. He’s not the most gentle, attentive guy but he will do anything in his power to make you shiver, shake, beg, and clench. While Colonel tries to savour you nice and slow, the younger recruit lives for extremes. Sometimes it feels like he’s trying to drive you (or himself) mad.
The sheets have to be changed on the third day of his leave, and there’s not a surface in your house he hasn’t bullied you on or against. After a few days of fucking and living on takeaway food (König won’t let you from his sights for one minute), the young recruit finally calms down and agrees to watch some movies with you. You even get him to do some chores.
He won't help you in the garden like Colonel König because he's interested in the most dangerous, illegal or unnecessary jobs in the house, such as: can he fix the weather vane while balancing on a slippery roof, or would it be any fun if he did some DIY electrical work by himself. But he will help you with your computer, fix you some weed and turn a cooking session into a play fight that ends with you both on the kitchen floor and König sampling you instead of the sauce you tried to offer him.
This young rookie comes home with a wine bottle or some new sexy lingerie for you to wear (and him to tear right off). One day he comes home with a kitten, a scared little orange tabby, and asks if you like it while an evil grin spreads on his face. The poor thing tries to scratch and claw König but he has his gloves on, and when it gets released to your apartment, it runs under the sofa and won't come out, not before König comes up with a solution that involves some tuna. You're 100% sure he either stole that kitten or found it abandoned somewhere.
König leaves you in the good care of his older version, knowing that the aftercare he provided barely counts as aftercare because it’s filled with manic kisses and hugs that hardly allow you to breathe. The things he mutters in your ear when he holds you are usually about you being the best pussy he’s ever had, or about would you like it if he killed the old fart.
The cat turns out to be very vocal and cuddly but it also destroys your curtains and the Colonel's side of the bed. It grows up to be a violent bird hunting machine and an entire menace that, perhaps to no one's surprise, reminds you of your young lover.
Conversations with König mainly include him mansplaining things to you. He boasts a lot and you get the feeling he's actually very insecure under all that brash cockiness. But whenever you try to work on that with him, he soon gets annoyed, frustrated, or horny. Any attention is both poison and elixir for this man.
When you start to cry from him being so intense with you and mean to the man you love (the man who allows this young rookie to eat his food, fuck his wife and practically live in the house he bought with hard work) he says it’s only because he knows you’re not happy with him, not really.
But he can make you happy. He has money too. He can give you everything you want, too. And didn’t he just make you cum twice with his tongue and cock? Can the old man do that, eh? What else do you need? What else could you even ask for?
You have to make your calls and texts to the Colonel in secret even if your arrangement is known to all parties involved. It’s just that the young recruit becomes even more crazy and possessive in bed if he sees or hears you talking to his rival. You get the sense that he's not just crazy and self-centered: he's actually so desperately in love with you that he can't take the reminder that you're someone else's wife.
You tried to live together once, but it ended in both of your lovers in the hospital and you crying next to their beds. They made an uneasy truce after that, and agreed that they should take turns with you.
They mainly talk to each other through you nowadays. The "talking" mainly consist of threats which you never deliver.
Colonel König says he’ll snap the young prick’s neck if he ever hurts you in any way, your body or your feelings. You never say to him that the damage is already done – well, perhaps he hasn't hurt your body, which is sore from all the love, yes, but never abused. But he has hurt your feelings many times by being so callous, intimidating, and reckless.
Your nervous system is constantly on high alert with the young recruit who fantasizes very openly and cruelly about all the things he’d like to do to the Colonel (such as "if he tries to show me how to fuck this sweet Muschi again, I will fuck him to his grave with his own dick" or "I have a bullet with your lover's name on it. Have you ever held a gun, kleiner Schatz? Would you like me to show you how to load a rifle?")
When you remind him that you’re the Colonel’s wife, and won’t listen to such violent, stupid nonsense, the young recruit smiles with another devilish grin and says you needn’t worry: you wouldn’t be a widow for long. He would propose to you once the funeral is over and done with. Perhaps he’ll propose at the funeral. Would you like that…? Would it make you wet?
It's the only time you actually slapped him, and it only got him hard. When you were shocked about that too, he asked why do you think men go to the army in the first place, and urged you to slap the Colonel too and see what it does to him.
What you find a bit funny though is how this entitled young man seems to think about the Colonel everytime he’s inside you. He always brags about how he fucks you better than him, how he knows you prefer his mouth over the old man’s. He knows his cock is bigger too: he compared once when they were having a piss outside. He also knows you should make babies with him: they would be very healthy. Surely you’d choose him over the old Colonel if it came to breeding you? If you ever want children, you only need to ask...
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luveline · 10 months ago
Note
would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅
thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse
There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 
He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 
He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 
No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 
Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 
You look tired, too. 
Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 
You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 
Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 
You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 
You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 
“Hey,” he says. 
You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 
“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 
You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.
“Are you okay?” 
Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 
“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 
“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 
“It's getting better.” 
It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 
“I'm really okay–” 
“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 
You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 
Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 
“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 
“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.
He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 
Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 
“Thanks.” 
“Yeah, no problem.” 
“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 
“And he hit you?” 
“Yeah.” 
Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”
You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 
Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 
“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 
“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 
“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 
You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 
He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 
You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 
“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 
“I’m not stupid.” 
Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 
“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 
He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 
“Can I buy you something to eat?” 
“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 
“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 
“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 
“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 
“No.” 
“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 
You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 
Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 
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easy-there-leftovers · 1 year ago
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I See You, Darling (3)
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[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.| 
Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game
Part 2 here!!
Next Part here!!
As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.
Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?
————��─━────༺༻────━─━————
Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.
The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.
And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.
Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.
By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps. 
This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.
As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you.  What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.
Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted  him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.
You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—
“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.
“Astarion,”  Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while. 
“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”
The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.
Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.
“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”
You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.
 “I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.
“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.” 
This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.
“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”
The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both. 
And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them. 
“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath. 
Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.
You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.
The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him. 
Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.
“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew. 
“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.
But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it. 
—————————
After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.
Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.
You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.
You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do  with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.
You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel. 
If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.
Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet. 
—————————————
As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.
You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.
Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake. 
But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself. 
The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.
“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.
In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.
‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.
“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”
“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.
“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.
“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…
What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.
He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.
Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.
“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him. 
He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.
With that, you strengthen your resolve. 
“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.
“Really? I–”
 “Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.
“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.
He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.
So he graces you with what mercy he can give.
The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.
A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.
You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.
When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.
Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.
You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.
Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.
You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.
But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.
As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself. 
“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.
The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.
You worry about waking up tomorrow.
But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.
For himself and for everyone else’s sake.
━─━────༺༻────━─━
Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!
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lizzieisright · 8 months ago
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Stop the world (I wanna get off with you)
masc!reader x fem!Abby
Palestine: what can you do
Summary: You're tired of all this mandatory social stuff during another charity gala you attend. You watch Abby and wish for the time to stop so you two can have a moment.
Tags: Rich reader wears tuxedo, no other descriptions otherwise. Abby wears a dress (and she looks fucking stunning). For smut in the second half: fingering (r!abby), oral (r!abby), no power dynamics.
Notes: I blame Arctic Monkeys for this. (it wasn't even supposed to have smut, but I got carried away.)
/-/-/-/-/-/
It's been two hours since the gala started. You don't like those things: your social battery dies after the fifth person starts small talking with you - but you visit them anyway. It's for the greater good and you love charity, especially since your successful business lets you earn more money than you'd ever need in this lifetime - so you put them to work.
There's also two other, smaller reasons why you visit these events, and they're personal to you.
The first reason is vain. It's an excuse to wear the finest tuxedo you have - even though right now your bow-tie is undone and lies on your collarbone quite fashionably, and you can't be bothered to stand up from your seat as you nurse your non-alcoholic drink and stare at the most expensive pair of leather shoes you own. You're tired and ready to go home, but you catch the glimpse of yourself in the mirror and smirk - you look hot. Hot and rich. Your ego can’t get bigger.
The second reason has been going around the room talking to people and laughing, holding a glass of champagne and barely drinking from it. 
The second reason is wearing a gorgeous silk golden dress that shows off her cleavage, her shoulders, her waist and her long legs. Her hair is plaited into a fluffy braid which makes it look weightless and beautiful. Your second reason looks like an amazonian goddess and you can’t take your eyes off of her. 
You kinda wish the world would just stop for the two of you. 
Abby catches your gaze and smiles - you smile back and raise your glass. You don’t want to go and talk - she is really the only person you like in this room - and you’d prefer to have your conversation private; although getting Abby alone isn't easy to do when she is working. Abby chuckles at your tortured expression but goes back to the conversation, nods as she listens. 
Abby is magnificent and you admire her for what she does: she is very successful for her age, one of the leading doctors in the hospital that is hosting the gala. It’s rare when you could see her in anything else than scrubs, let alone a beautiful dress, and you don’t even feel bad about it - Abby wears scrubs because she helps people. She saves lives. All these fancy dinners and galas and dresses are tools for her to help her cause - to create more charity programs, to get medication more accessible, to get medical care accessible. There are no words to describe your admiration for Abby, but you hope your actions show enough. 
So you don't distract Abby from doing her work, but keep watching her from afar, enjoying her every move, every curve that this dress shows, every flick of her braid and every sparkle of her eyes. She is just so fucking beautiful. 
Half an hour later you start to get a little impatient - so you go to the balcony to let your ears rest from the whole buzz around you. You’re tempted to find Abby at this point, but she finds you first. You hear the clicking of her heels on the marble and smile before turning to face her. 
“Hi.” Abby says sweetly and you melt. 
“Hi.” You say almost dreamily, as if you can't believe she is here. 
You take your jacket off to put it around her shoulders, and Abby blushes, beautiful pink highlights her freckles. You watch her in adoration and she blushes harder when she notices the depth of tenderness and love in your eyes.
“You look gorgeous.” You tell her and Abby can’t keep herself from smiling, a little shy. “I’m glad you decided to wear a dress today.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve dared to.” Abby says. She is impossibly cute when her youngish shyness takes a hold of her. “I still have to meet some people.” 
“Yeah. We’ve got people to see, places to go. I know.” You chuckle and caress Abby’s cheek reverently. She closes her eyes for a moment, basking in your touch. “I wish we could just stop the world and get off.”
Abby laughs quietly, a melodic sound that feels like home. 
“I love your tuxedo.” Abby admits and toys with the ends of your bow-tie. “It does look better undone.” There’s a small implication of something dark and hot in her words and you feel the fire starting in your lower stomach.
“Love, you’re impossible.” You sigh, not letting yourself gently grab Abby by her hips. Not the time, not the place. “You have to meet some people, remember?”
“Yes.” Abby grins and gives your jacket back. Her perfume and your cologne are now mixed and you love it. “Maybe there is someone you’d like to talk to as well?”
“With the exception of you, I dislike everyone in the room.” You deadpan and Abby laughs.
You follow Abby inside anyway and now you have her on your arm, her forearm resting on yours. You’re tired, but Abby is tired too, and you support her as she goes on the last round of meeting and talking and telling people about her projects. Abby is very determined and passionate about her work, and you chuckle in your head - you have enough money to spoil Abby for the rest of her life, and you honestly dreamt about it: just having a housewife to take care of - but instead the love of your life is a constantly exhausted overworked doctor who wants the best for people. The irony of the situation never fails to amuse you. 
“It was nice to meet you, Dr. Anderson.” The last person on Abby’s list tells her and you sigh in relief. “You’re doing very important work for all of us.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you as well.” Abby smiles politely and you finally walk her away from the crowd.
You put your jacket around Abby’s shoulders again and support her as you lead her to the car. You can’t wait to be home already.
“The night is cold today.” Abby notices when you get in the driver’s seat. You push the temperature higher and turn on the seat heating for Abby. “Thank you.”
“I know you love it when your butt is warm.” You tease her and Abby smacks your thigh lightly. “It’s cute.”
You live in a penthouse with a gorgeous view over the city - Abby felt a little awkward the first few times she came here, this level of luxury wasn't something she was used to even coming from a neurosurgeon's family. Now she calls this place home.
At home you open a bottle of wine and take Abby to the balcony. She looks stunning in the city lights as the wind plays with her hair and the free silk of her dress as she stands leaning on the glass railings. She looks at you and there’s so much tension between you you feel like it’d be a good idea to undo a button on your shirt. Abby’s eyes are piercing and warm, the dark trickle of her pupils follows your hand as you open your shirt. 
You love how it feels as if you took her home for the first time, as if both of you are uncertain how the night will go but you also hope for the same ending. It makes you chuckle when you hand Abby her glass of wine. 
“It reminds me of the night we met.” You tell her and Abby matches your chuckle. “I couldn’t look away from you.”
“You looked so grumpy and you kept staring at me, I thought you didn’t like me.” 
“I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful before.” You take a sip of your wine and Abby blushes. 
She is still not used to being found attractive when she presents more feminine - it took her years to gain confidence when her trained muscled body was enveloped in gentle and fragile silhouettes of dresses. But the night you met you looked at her like she was holy - and you still do - and it definitely helps. 
“I’ve never seen someone so hot being so miserable before.” Abby teases you and you both share a quiet laugh. “I don’t think if it wasn’t for your scandalous donation I would’ve come up to you.”
You remember how fast your heart was beating when Abby approached you to thank you - she was shy but cheerful and you put all effort into making a good impression that night. 
“I love you so much.” You tell Abby and finally put one of your hands on her hip. You rub your thumb over her hip bone and feel like you’re home. 
“I love you too, my antisocial knight with an undone bow-tie.” 
You beam but try to conceal it. 
“My love.” You kiss Abby’s forehead, your lips linger on her skin. “My life.” You kiss her cheek and squeeze her hip a little. You move your mouth down and leave a kiss behind her ear. “My wife.”
Abby giggles and kisses you, her mouth pleasantly cold and you wrap your free arm around her waist to press her closer. Abby feels the fabric of your slacks and your belt buckle through her thin dress and it makes her shudder; she suddenly feels hot. 
“Fuck.” Abby sighs and opens her legs, her golden dress riding up on her hip when she tries to wrap her leg around you. 
You chuckle and kiss her cheek apologetically before moving away. Abby pouts a little and you laugh kindly before you take her glass of wine from her and put both of your glasses on the near table. You don't want to ruin Abby's dress by spilling wine on it, although you wouldn't mind having Abby's perfect body covered in wine so you could like every drop and watch the dark liquid contrast with her light skin.
“Come here.” Abby sighs and you obey, kissing her again and finally hooking her thigh over your hip. 
You push Abby into the railing behind her and she hugs your shoulders while she kisses you back. You moan into her mouth, your hands roam from her waist to her hips, hungry and ready to devour her piece by piece. Only now, when you hold Abby so tightly, you notice that the silk of her dress is smooth under your fingers - there’s not ridges or bumps that would evidence there’s something underneath.
“You’re not wearing underwear?” Abby shudders when she hears your voice drop an octave, desperate. 
“It ruined the look.” Abby shrugs and pushes her cunt into your crotch, the cold silk is so thin she thinks she can grind against your belt buckle and cum just like this. “And now it seems I’m ruining the dress with how wet you got me.”
You growl and kiss Abby again, rough and passionate, not letting her take a breath. You knead her waist and thigh, riding up her dress until the slit is high enough for your hand to slip under, to the wet heat between Abby's thighs. You cup her pussy and kiss her neck, and Abby whimpers quietly. 
“Wanna know what I'm thinking about?” You murmur into her ear while your fingers find her clit and start rubbing it slowly. 
“Yeah.” Abby presses you closer, squeezes your waist as if you will walk away. As if you'd ever leave her.
“That I should've fucked you back on that balcony.” You growl into her ear and chuckle when Abby's hips start moving against your palm. “Should've gotten you dripping and shaking for me. Let you walk around and pretend to be okay while clenching your thighs so your cum wouldn't drip down on the floor.”
“Fuck.” Abby whimpers and her movements become more energetic. “Fuck me, please.” 
“What do you want?” You lick Abby's collarbone and she whines. 
“Fingers.” 
You hum and smear Abby's cum all over her cunt before sinking two of your fingers in. You watch Abby's face as you slowly feed her your fingers: she is beautiful. Her cute little frown, mouth opened but no sound escaping it and crimson red blush on her cheekbones - she is God. Your God. 
“Gorgeous.” You whisper and curl your fingers inside her. 
Abby's pelvis jumps and you giggle, surprised at her sudden sensitivity. You fuck her slowly, carefully - Abby might be big and strong, but she is such a delicate woman. You make sure you treat her as such. 
“I love you.” Abby sighs while her cum drips down your hand and her thigh. 
“I love you too.” You kiss her shoulder lovingly.
You move away just enough to have some space between the two of you, your fingers still slowly fucking Abby's hole and your thumb lazily playing with her clit. Now the world has stopped and you can have her all for yourself. 
You gently brush your fingers over her shoulder and move the strap of the dress down so you could free her tits. Abby helps you and soon the top half of her dress is bundled up at her waist. You lick your lips as you watch Abby's nipples tighten from the wind, her cute little tits are all for your eyes only. 
You lean down and take her left nipple into your mouth, sucking on it gently, and Abby twitches, her cunt fluttering around your fingers. You're still slow - Abby gets so turned on when you take your time with her; the anticipation makes her so much more sensitive. 
“Baby.” Abby whimpers and presses your head closer. “You're so good.” 
You tenderly nip at her nipple and thumb her clit at the same time, and Abby clenches on your fingers.
“Baby, give me one more. Please. Make me full.” 
You buck your hips instinctively at her words, so turned on your brain barely functions by this point. You're not packing today and it's a damn pity, but you don't waste time on thinking about it - instead you take your fingers out fully. 
“You're drenched, love.” You smirk and push three fingers slowly to the hilt. “Take it.” You rasp into Abby's ear as her walls close on your digits.
Abby whimpers and bites her lip, her eyes rolling back from how good you feel inside her. It's a little tight, but Abby loves it, loves how you're stretching her. She loves the feeling of your fingers brushing over her hot walls, your soft fingertips and hard knuckles and the pad of your thumb on her clit. 
You push at Abby's sweet spot to make her moan and she digs her nails into your shoulder, her thighs starting to shake. 
“You look like a goddamn goddess.” You tell Abby in awe, but you're so turned on you can't keep your hips from bucking against her. You step closer and start grinding on her thigh, the harsh fabric of your underwear and slacks making the pleasure more intense. Abby moves one of her hands down and squeezes your ass, moaning desperately. 
“Fuck, cum with me. Baby, please, cum with me.” Abby moans and you start grinding rough and fast, grunting when the stitch on your pants digs into your clit just right. “Go faster, please.”
“So polite.” You say, panting, but you pick up your speed and Abby just gets wetter and wetter: you think you've got her cum on your cuffs by now. 
You pinch her nipple with a free hand and Abby moans louder. She puts her forehead on your shoulder and whimpers right into your ear, making you rut on her thigh harder. You're close, and Abby is close - you feel her beautiful cunt getting tighter and tighter around your fingers. You slow down and Abby clings to you, her hips bucking into your hand. 
“I'm close.” Abby pouts and you lick her neck. 
“Oh, I know. Can feel how tight you are now.” You smirk. 
It's a sweet torture for both of you - you also slow down with your grinding - but you know Abby's orgasm will be stronger after being close like this. 
“Can't wait to bury my tongue in your cunt.” You tell Abby and she gets so desperate in your hands. She clings to you, bucks her hips and tries to take your fingers deeper, and it melts your heart. 
Fuck it, you think, and then you drop to your knees. If Abby is your God, you need to worship her accordingly. 
“Baby, what-” Abby tries to say, confused when she loses the feeling of your hot cunt on her thigh, but then it dawns on her. “Please-please-please.” 
You put her thigh that was on your hip over your shoulder and push her dress up, until the entirety of it is bundled around Abby's waist. Abby is looking down at you, her mouth open and her eyes pleading, and you finally lock your mouth on her pussy. 
“Oh my god.” Abby whimpers when you suck on her clit. “Oh my god, baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck-” 
You hum, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as Abby's taste envelopes your senses. Her cunt is always so soft and so hot, and you can't help yourself: you bury your face in it, licking her up from her hole where your fingers slowly fuck up into her, and to her clit. Abby holds your head with her hands and starts bucking her hips into your face, riding your tongue, and you relax: you let her use you as she pleases. 
Abby's voice becomes higher and louder, and she presses you closer with the heel digging into your back. It's kinda painful since Abby is still wearing her stilettos, but you don't care. You're high on her, and being pulled closer, having her scent and taste and warmth surrounding you is pure bliss. You're still slow and it makes Abby more desperate as she chases her orgasm, but she doesn't ask you to go faster - instead she bucks her hips rougher and doesn't leave you a choice but to eat her out like she wants it. 
“Baby, wait, fuck, wait-” 
Her approaching orgasm feels different, too intense - and she knows what is going to happen, but she is always embarrassed when she squirts right on your face - she wants to ask you to stand up, but she can't, lost in her pleasure. 
You know she is going to squirt as well, her walls are so tight around your fingers it is literally hard to move them and your wrist starts to cramp now, but you keep fucking her, because you want her to squirt all over your face. 
“Fuck!” Abby screams and folds, holding to your head for dear life and unconsciously pressing you closer to her cunt with her thigh on your shoulder, almost suffocating you, drowning you in her cum. 
You would die as the happiest woman on Earth if this would be your last moment: between the legs of the love of your life, drenched in her cum. 
Abby is still whimpering and you keep your fingers moving gently just to prolong her pleasure, and you keep eating her out just to get all her cum, softly moving your tongue around. 
“Fuck.” Abby pants and watches you between her thighs. You're absolutely pussy drunk, soaked to your chest and you look high. Abby giggles, embarrassed, and puts the loose hairs away from your forehead. “I soaked you.”
“Yes. Thank you.” You kiss a trail up Abby's thigh that's on your shoulder. 
“Come here.” Abby says weakly and you carefully put her leg down and get up, holding Abby by her waist. You know her legs are shaky and you want to support her. “I'm a mess.” Abby chuckles and you kiss her neck. 
“You're beautiful. I'm definitely fucking you next time we go to an event. I don't care.”
Abby giggles and kisses you, not minding that your whole face is covered in her cum. You kiss her back and pinch her nipple gently just to make her jump. 
“Let's get you warm.” You tell Abby when you notice the goosebumps covering her arms and chest. 
“You haven't cum yet.” 
“You can worry about it when you're warm and clean.” You kiss the tip of her nose and lead her back inside. 
Abby repays you thoroughly in the shower. 
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soleilapproves · 16 days ago
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Price is your best friend’s dad. Part 1/3
Notes: suggestive, price is in his mid to late 50s. Reader is in their early to mid 20s. AFAB F!reader. Price is hinted at not being as fit as he was. Dad bod-ish!Price. Reader gives away their personal info to a stranger. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you guys.
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You were tired of being alone in the city you just moved in to. The raise after being relocated was worth it but now you were starting to wonder if it was enough to terminate your social life as well.
Making friends in your 20s was hard. The existence of third spaces and forced proximity in high school made it easy to connect with people. But unlike teenagers, adults have to find and sometimes even create their own third spaces. Your pick of poison? Yoga.
Sure, you didn’t enjoy working out, but it was where you were going to find other women your age. The book club didn’t work out because most of the members were senior citizens that would go to a cafe to get away from their retirement homes for an hour. You could’ve joined a pottery class group but you didn’t have enough clothes to ruin because of the sticky clay (it was also very expensive).
You walked into the yoga studio, feeling meek. All the women there looked like they came in with their friends, placing their mats together in the front. At the back, you could see some people who liked to chat while working out so you didn’t have an in over there either.
All you had was a little corner. You placed your water bottle down and sighed. Every water bottle had another one next to it.
Great, even the bottles had more friends than you.
“Anyone gonna place their mat here?” You turned around to see a gorgeous brunette with striking blue eyes. She was so beautiful that it almost made you blush.
“No, go ahead.” She placed her mat down and began doing a few slow stretches before the instructor arrived. “I’m Jennifer by the way. You can call me Jen.” She said mid warrior pose.
“YN.” You replied with a small smile.
You finally knew someone other than your creepy neighbor! Ten points to you.
“So, you live around here?” It was your turn to initiate conversation. “Not really, I live with my dad in the suburbs right outside the city. Not too far from here. What about you?”
“Yeah, I live in this area. I only picked this spot because it wouldn’t need to use the train to get all the way here.” Jen laughed at your reply. “Ugh, I get you, I hate commuting to work. You got lucky with getting your own place.”
You nodded with a grin on your face. Maybe you could invite her over to hang out since you lived close by. You had barely said five sentences to this girl but your mind was running wild with all the fun things you could do if she became your friend.
The instructor entered the room and your conversation turned into whispers.
She told you about how she basically grew up with her mom but then moved in with her dad once he retired from the military. She didn’t say anything further so you assumed they must’ve divorced.
You told her about what brought you to the city and how you were trying to find fun things to do on Friday nights.
“No way, you should totally come out with me this weekend. One of my friends is dating a guy who manages a club.”
Score! The class wasn’t even over and you had managed to find a friend. This was a new high for you.
The two of you couldn’t stop chatting after class so you decided to take your conversation to a coffee shop. She showed you pictures of when she was a kid and how lonely she used to feel having a parent in the military. She then confirmed her parents were divorced. You could tell there was more to the story but didn’t pry out of respect.
You told her about your life back where you were from and Jen intently listened. When you’d say anything about being unfairly treated she would gasp and be angry on your behalf.
It’s like you had met your best friend.
The following weekend, you were assessing yourself in the mirror. You made sure you were wearing the right amount of eyeliner to go with your eye shadow.
Your outfit was beautiful. It was a simple black halter neck mini dress paired with a leather jacket. You wanted to look stylish but also prepared for the cold. By the time you wore your shoes, you got a text from Jen saying that she was waiting downstairs.
She introduced you to her friends who were in the car.
Maybe your new life in the city wasn’t going to be so lonely after all.
You all skipped the line and walked into the packed club. It had the same vibe as any other club- remix of a popular song playing while drunk people bounced around to it on the dance floor.
This was exactly what you needed though. It wasn’t what you usually did but you were open to new experiences. “Come on, let’s do shots!” Jen yelled as she dragged you to the bar.
-
You weren’t sure if Jen could walk straight. The two of you were sitting on a curb outside the club so she could get some fresh air. You held onto her as she slurred the lyrics of some random Justin Bieber song.
The girl was sloshed. You covered her with your leather jacket so she wouldn’t run cold. The rest of her friends wanted to stay at the club longer so you decided to get her home. There was no point in staying because Jen was the only person you knew that well at the moment anyway.
You were about to order an Uber when Jen’s phone began to ring in her purse. You fished it out and saw the word ‘dad’ flashing on it. You picked up the call.
“Hey, bean, everything alright so far?” A smooth British accent spoke from the other side of the line. His voice was so deep that you could almost feel its vibrations against your cheek.
“Hello, Mr. Price. I’m your daughter’s friend, YN. She’s a little too drunk right now so I’ll be sending her home via Uber.”
You could hear the faint sound of him clearing his throat through the speaker before he replied. “That’s alright, lass, I’ll come get the both of ya, I’m nearby.” You agreed to the older man’s suggestion and ended the call.
Ten minutes had passed and you were starting to get goosebumps all over your body. Jen had fallen asleep not too long ago on your right shoulder and your arm was beginning to fall asleep from being in one position.
Almost as if on cue, a large Chevrolet truck pulled up in front of you. A six foot tall man stepped out with a cigarette between his lips. You looked up at him with your eyes wide.
You had never thought of yourself as someone who’d be attracted to an older man but dear God, did he look majestic.
His beard had specks of silver in them. They complimented his strong jaw very well. The lights on the street were bright enough to let you see his eyes that were the same blue ones that Jen had.
“You must be YN.” His gruff voice called out. “Y-yes.” You stuttered out. The man was so handsome that you couldn’t help but get nervous.
“I’m John.” He smirked, cigarette still dangling between his lips. You could tell he was checking you out as well with how his eyes trailed down your bare legs.
He then walked towards you and Jen, leaned down close enough to wake his daughter up.
He was also close enough for you to smell him. Cigarettes and cologne with a hint of suede leather (courtesy of his jacket). His hand slightly brushed your shoulder as he stood his daughter up. “Come on, I’ll drop you home.” You shivered at his invitation.
John took notice and removed his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. “So you don’t get sick.”
Your heart was going to burst. You squeezed your legs together as you watched him drag his daughter to his car.
Soon you were sitting in the passenger seat of his car while Jen snored in the back. It was awkward to say the least. You had recently discovered that you may like older men and there was no music to buffer that thought.
“So how’d you meet my little Jennie?” You could get used to the rough edge in his voice. His accent just made things ten times better. “Yoga class.”
“Ah.” Silence followed again. In your peripheral view you could tell he would try to glance at your thighs. Usually you would’ve covered yourself up with your (his) jacket but surprisingly, you loved the fact that he couldn’t stop looking at you.
“You know anyone in the city?”
“Other than my coworkers, not really. Jen is the first person I’ve actually made friends with.”
“Well, I want you to know that even if I live far away, you can always count on me for any kind of help.”
He said he wanted to be of help. He didn’t mention Jen. “Thank you, Mr. Price.”
“Call me John. Mr. Price makes me feel old.” He chuckled.
You nervously mirrored his laugh to make the atmosphere less awkward.
Well, it mostly felt like there was some weird tension between you two. Sexual tension.
You reached your apartment complex and you began to take off his jacket to return to him but he grabbed your hand. Your skin felt like it was being pricked by a thousand tiny needles. Did a man’s touch always feel this electrifying?
“Keep it. Just give it to me next time.” You could only stare at him after he said that. What did he mean by next time? Did he mean that you were supposed to give it to Jen or did he want you to give it him specifically?
“Alright.” You whispered. You opened the door and waved a small goodbye to John as you walked into your building. You noticed that he didn’t leave until he saw you go inside.
‘What a gentleman.’ You blushed while you thought to yourself.
-
While driving back home, John could only imagine what the rest of your body looked like if just your thighs seemed so enticing.
His pants grew tighter as he remembered the doe eyed look you gave him when you first made eye contact. Your blush from the night’s cold air made you look like an elf. An attractive one at that. For a second he could hear his former subordinate’s voice in his head.
“Aye, captain, she could be the elf and you could be Santa in bed. All you need is the beard since you’re already on the way to getting the belly.”
You were ingrained in his mind. The main reason he gave you his jacket was because he noticed the outline of your nipples through your dress. He felt like a gross pervert but he couldn’t help but thank the winter air.
He was glad he left his jacket with you. It gave him an excuse to see you again.
-•-
Yes, I’ll write a second part for this story.
Hint: it contains forced proximity 😋
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notthecutesttrash · 4 months ago
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Vanilla Ice Cream
Content: Sierra Six is your newly appointed bodyguard. You only want to make his life a living hell so he can leave. That is until unfortunate circumstances make you feel closer to him, and eventually like his company.
Warnings: Lil bit of angst, reader's a brat, fluff, inebriation, blood, vomiting, language, death
Word count: 6.8k
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When you saw him, all you could think was how it was just another pointless bodyguard who might fail to do their job. Apparently, you were notorious for being a spoiled brat, as your father so explained, and no one else wanted to work with you because of it. Your lips twitch in irritation at the thought. You? Spoiled? Please. 
“I don’t need a bodyguard! It’s not even a bodyguard anyways, it’s a babysitter! I’m so tired of being watched every day! Can’t I have some goddamn privacy?! I’m like 25!” You yell out to your father who is as usual, too busy calmly packing things into his neatly confined suitcase. 
“Enough (Y/n), you’re going to have a bodyguard because you can’t seem to sit still for once.” 
“Oh, maybe because, again, I’m 25 DAD! I’m so sorry for wanting to go out and have fun!”
“I have a target on my head, your mother has a target on her head, therefore YOU have a target on your head. What do you not understand?” You’ve heard this quote a million times at this point so you just wave it off.  
“Yeah, and? That target has gotten us nowhere but money spent on these so-called body guards and given us senseless paranoia. Nothing has ever happened, and nothing will. Just relax already.” Maybe you knew you were being selfish, but you didn’t care, it was true.
“I am going to be gone for not just a day, not just 2, not even a full week, but almost 2 months.” He emphasizes. “I need the best security there is for you, do you understand? Someone is bound to try something.” He gives you a finished expression and then glimpses to the maid. “Margaret open the gates for Sierra six.” Your father says. She nods and briskly walks off. 
You roll your eyes and huff, “dad!” 
“He’ll be here any minute now. Introduce yourself, be nice, and we will see you in 2 months.” You open your mouth to speak and he holds up a finger. 
“Don’t give this poor man any trouble than he needs, or at least enough that I have to hear about it. I don’t need yet another bodyguard that refuses to work with us because of you.” Your father rubs his fingers at the bridge of his nose to display his exhaustion. 
“What do you mean because of me?” You cross your arms and huff, “I don’t do anything to any of them.”
“Don’t play coy.” 
You shake your head, “i’m not.” You kind of were. Just kind of. 
“You are. Don’t act like every guard so far hasn’t wanted to reverse the contract and shoot you themselves.” You cross your legs and turn your head. 
“They start it.” That was also most definitely not true. 
A brooding man makes himself known at the doorway. A tall figure, blue grayish eyes, sandy dark blonde locks, and somehow a face and demeanor that could make a mother proud. 
“Another fit pretty face.” Was the first thing you say and your father instantly gives you a look that says don’t. 
Pursing your lips, you hum begrudgingly and step in front of the man. “My name is (Y/n), nice to meet you.” A clear fake smile burns into your features, and you stretch your hand out. Sierra Six doesn’t say anything, he remains stoic and silent. He then places his hand into your own and firmly shakes it. His hand felt warm and rough like he was born fighting every day, and you made a note to remember that. 
“Have a safe trip Dad!” You speak with honey, tiptoeing on your pretty little expensive slippers. Planting a kiss on his cheek, you give a side eye to six. A sadistic joy twitches into the edge of your lip, and you give him one last look before he turns to his side to let you pass through the doorway. 
Fitz told him it was going to be a trip, and he believed it. For the past few days all you were trying to do was tick him, to break him, to over-exaggerate every little opinion you had, to make sure he’d want to get up and leave himself. 
“I despise ketchup with my fries, why can’t we just have some alternative, what do you think Mr. Sierra six?” You would complain about one moment. Then the next moment you went on about how chocolate was better than vanilla, about how winter sucks because you can’t use your lavish pool, why red is better than yellow, why Pepsi tastes better than coca cola, and so on. 
 “So what’s your real name mr. six?” you ask him, your legs crossed over one another as you sat by him. His fingers were expertly working at the computer ahead of him, and he only gives you a split second of a look. “Nothing?” You inch closer, your red heels dangling near his legs. 
“Why are all you guards so boring? Hm? It’s been like 3 days and you can’t say more than 2 words.” Throwing your head back, you groan out loud. Finally, you thought of an idea, and you glance back at him, grinning.  
“Well then you wouldn’t mind if I invited my friend over would you?” A giggle escapes. “No. Of course not.” Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts and grin. 
“You’re not supposed to have anyone over.” Finally, Mr. Special Sierra Six speaks. You wave your phone and laugh. 
“It’s just one friend pretty boy, come on now, don’t be shy. She won’t give you as much as a bite… though.. she might try to get into your pants.” Snickering to yourself, he gives you that same blank stare. You click on your friend Cacie, and she answers the phone just as fast. Smiling wide, you’re already pulling it to your ear and telling her to come over. 
“There’s a little special surprise for you. This one is good this time.” 
“Can’t wait~” she says with that little mischievous snicker at the end of her words. She hangs up and you know she’s already on her way. 
“Hey pretty boy, do you like wine? Wait don’t answer that. You strike me as a.. on the rocks type of guy. Let me guess.. bourbon? Scotch?” Six doesn’t respond, and you tap at your chin. “Whiskey!” Six gives you a glimpse, and you know you got it. 
“Let me guess, “I can’t drink on the job,” you mimic him, “just one little glass wouldn’t hurt.” Already pouring the whiskey into the glass, you shoot him a side look. He’s still working at his computer, and at this point a guard might be sighing, rolling their eyes, or shaking their head. But he’s quite diligent. It was impressive. 
You set the glass in front of him, and he doesn’t even eye you. “Just a sip for me, pretty please?” You give him the sweetest orbs you could muster, but it wasn’t very good knowing you. Eventually he gives you a look, and this time it stays. You couldn’t know what he was thinking with his expression at all. “Come on, please? I won’t bother you at all after this.” You tilt your head, and your eyes glimmer a certain sadism that screams out your lies.
“I’m good.” Sierra six speaks, turning back to his screen, and you create a fake pout. 
“That’s no fun.” You take the glass you poured him and take a sip. Your gaze lingers on him. He knows you’re staring, you know he knows you’re staring, but you still do it. The nails of yours tap onto the glass one finger at a time, and you rest your free hand at your cheek. Still stuck in your peering, you don’t realize the doorbell rings. 
“You should probably get that.” Six states, and you smile sarcastically. You should’ve made him get up and do it himself for that smugness. 
A swift smirk dawns on you when Cacies pretty face is revealed. Her red lips are stunning, and her blonde coils are wrapped up. She wears her velvet red slim-fit dress, and you know she always wore this one to seduce the prettiest of guards. “Cacie dear, meet Sierra Six.” Cacie walks up to him right away, a burning intrigue in her light blue orbs.
“You are quite the pretty one, aren’t you? Older, though. You could probably be my dad… but lucky for you, I like that.” She sways her hips to the side and giggles. There is a little flicker of annoyance inside of you that you push down. Six glances up and says nothing, he doesn’t even give a reaction, no visible sigh, no rude comment, not even a linger over her body to show he secretly enjoyed it. Cacie was more than intrigued by that though, and you knew she was 100% willing to break him by the night’s end. 
Cacie turns her back to six, and she unclips her hair and rolls her head slowly, pulling her fingers to her scalp to massage out the little bumps while her hair rolls evenly at the end of her back. Cacie pulls out her phone and loud music begins to blare out. Six doesn’t flinch, but he exhales a barely noticeable sigh that finally showed irritation. It was subtle, but you knew. You take a sip of the whiskey and giggle. Cacie breaks out into a little dance, and Sierra Six closes his laptop and gets up.
It was getting late so he carries his little flashlight and shines at the glass windows to make sure no intruder was around the corners. You roll a lighter in your hands and flick at it, igniting a small fire that you raise to your cigarette. Taking a deep inhale, you blow a trail of smoke in front of you and stand. 
“Dance with me (Y/n), you know you love this song!” Cacie shouts, moving her hand into the curves of her ass. Your gaze lingers over to your bodyguard and you flick your cigarette to the floor. You take another swig of whiskey, and Cacie turns to you with a bottle of champagne in her hands. A big grin stretches her lips and yours do the same. You break out into laughter and she mimics, pouring a generous amount into your glass. She was more of a wine girl, so she’d always have her little special bottle that she’d love to get from some handsome cashier to share a long sip with you. You place your glass down and begin to move your body with the music. 
“You’re free to join too,” Cacie throws a wink at six, and he gives a glimpse before getting back to work. 
Throughout the night Cacie sends every little flirt, any little comment, even a flash of her tits to six, and alas no response. You on the other hand couldn’t care less and once Cacie leans down all drunken to six and tries to touch him, he finally speaks. “Don’t touch.” You take this moment to finally pause the music. Falling to the couch with a sigh, you unbuckle your painful high heels and chuck them off to the side. Your stomach felt like it was violently churning. 
“Why? Afraid I’ll mess up your work? Get you fired?” Cacie chuckles, turning to you. 
“I don’t understand this guy. He’s more boring than watching paint dry.” She grumbles. Huffing, you lean back to the couch and clutch your stomach. There’s a swirling that rushes to your throat, and you bite back the nausea.
“I really don’t care Cacie, just stop bothering him,” you mumble off, unsure if you were even inteligible at this point. You pull your hair out of its restrictive tie and let the locks fall into your face. The headache that was beginning to brew pounds into your ears. Lines of haziness muddle together fast. 
“What is wrong with you?” Cacie gives you a look of disgust as if it was just blasphemous what you uttered. You mumble into the leather, dragging your tired face into it. Your head lulls to the side, everything was too heavy. 
“Are you okay?” Six asks from his position, his head turned over his shoulder, brows furrowed. 
“She’s just drunk,” Cacie rolls her eyes, gesturing towards you. You lean your head onto the curve of the armrest, and the way the light blares down into your sight has you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. Breathing raggedly, you follow Six’s movements toward you, a sickness hits your chest again and you close your eyes, sucking in a pained breath. Six scans the half bottle of champagne, and then you. Suddenly a hand presses to your forehead and you attempt to flutter your lids open. Beads of sweat drip down your skin, and your hair becomes so wet it clings to your cheeks. 
With a sudden sternness six asks, “What was in the champagne?”
Cacie throws up her hands and scoffs. ”How the fuck am I supposed to know? Champagne? I bought it at the store.”
Six rotates the bottle, attempting to find any language or label on the glass. “From who?” Cacie sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. “I don’t know. The fucking cashier, who else?” 
“Did you say anything to them? Like how you were going to be alone?” Six asks, staring up at Cacie who quiets, a certain guilty look on her face. He raises his brows and she throws up her hands again. 
“Well… I didn’t think it was gonna be a big deal. I just told him that her dad was finally going out of town for more than just a few days, and he gave me that from behind the counter.” She holds a slightly worried expression as six gives her a blank look. You groan out loud as the pain in your stomach swirls. The bile was reaching your throat, the acid, the nausea, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You violently hurl over the leather couch until your stomach expels every ounce of liquid it can. Before you knew it you were carried away and forced to sit in a car seat before you passed out cold. 
When you woke up you are met with a hospital ceiling, and upon turning, you find six at the corner, standing. Pulling your arms to your sight you see an IV in your wrist, alongside other needles. Anxiety spikes, and you gasp, rushing to get out of the bed.
Six rushes to you, gesturing with his hands to calm down, “Hey hey, lay back down, relax." You hesitantly ease back in.
“What happened?” You ask. 
“Your friend gave you a poisoned bottle of champagne.” He states blankly. Rolling your eyes at the paranoia, you cross your arms. 
“I’m sure I was just drunk.” Sighing, you look out at the window nearby. 
“Do you normally puke out blood when you’re drunk?” He says, tilting his head, and you turn to him. 
 “Only when I’m having a good time,” you can’t help but joke and smile to yourself, eyes now glued to the outside.
Six was quiet, and you shift your focus on him. He has a straight face like usual. You had a deep feeling that maybe if you weren’t purposely attempting to annoy him for the past few days, he might’ve liked you as a person.
“Sorry.” You mutter. 
He raises a brow, and you go on a nervous rant. “I just never get to be alone, so I get angry. So far every guard has quit, and that was always my intention. But..” The words were at the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t bear to say thank you, that he saved your life of course, a feat no guard has ever done, and probably never would’ve. 
“I understand if you will.” It is quiet for a moment, and you sigh, keeping your gaze just stuck to the window. You swallow sharply, and it feels like razor blades scratching down your throat. 
“I won’t. It’s my job.” Sierra six states like some automated robot. 
Pushing your head into the pillow, you scoff. “Even when you got a girl who’s trying to make your life a living hell?” 
“I’ve been with worse company.” For just a moment, you can see a shimmer in his eyes, and there’s just the smallest prettiest little curl at the edge of his lips. Grinning widely, you make out a laugh. Though, it’s not for long before you cough out a gross chunk of phlegm, or even blood maybe. 
“You okay?” He asks, moving to you as you nod weakly.
“Yeah…” You trail off tiredly. “Can we go home now?” He finally chuckles, and you turn to him, embarrassed, a slight blush burning in your cheeks. 
“Not yet.” There’s a frown from you, and you sink into the bed, your eyes closing. Six’s gaze lingers over you for a moment before he gets back into his past position, his hands folded neatly over each other. 
It’s been close to a month, and the only company you ever had was six, and you hated to say.. you were starting to fall in love with him. Maybe it’s because you were desperate for any social contact. Or maybe because he's the only one who actually broke your facade and you feel comfortable to be your self around him... Or maybe it was just.. something about him.. the way he would smile just slightly, his soft chuckles whenever you finally did make him laugh, his ability to remain so calm.. it was so peaceful and reassuring in your boring days. 
“I mean seriously though, why isn’t there an alternative to ketchup? It’s not like I’m just gonna put mustard on my fries, so you can’t say that’s one. It’s either ketchup or fries alone. You know?” You complain while shoving a fry into your mouth, huffing. Six removes the attention from his computer, his brow raised.
“Are you done?”
You nod absentmindedly. “You’re right, mustard sucks too.”
He lets out an impatient exhale, but there is just the slightest little twitch that nudges his lips into a smile. You find yourself grinning whenever you manage such a feat. Maybe he was annoyed at you, sure, but you knew he couldn’t deny that the mindless banter was enjoyable, and even he couldn't help but join in it every now and then. 
Six looks up at you with a stern but playful expression, “I like mustard.”
“Hm. You do seem like a mustard guy.” You raise your spoon to him accusingly. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He stops typing completely now, gaze locked onto you. 
You circle your spoon and gesture to all of him. “It just screams.. you, you know?” 
Six hums. “Is it the hair?” 
“Yes! It is the hair!” You point to him and six nods, resuming his typing. He then shakes his head, and chuckles after a moment of silence. Smiling, you continue eating and snicker to yourself, well that is until a wonderful idea hits you.  
“You should teach me how to fight!” You shout and he gives you a blank look from his computer. 
“Why?” He asks.
“Well, what if someone breaks in and you need help?” He smiles only slightly, and your stare remains fixated on him. His beard compliments the frame of his sandy hair, and the blue of his eyes that glance your way. You loved picking those features out every now and then. 
He averts to his screen, “I won’t need help. Trust me.”
“But what if you do.” You retort. 
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. 
“But what if-“
Six sighs, “Alright, I’ll teach you. Happy?” Hand resting against your cheek, you giggle. Six glimpses when you walk off. Then his gaze remains for a second too long. 
Surely when he wasn’t looking around the same spots, exits, and corners every moment, he could relax in a way that still made him feel like he was working. That’s what you hoped at least when you dragged him outside beside the pool and forced him to teach you his martial arts, or whatever. 
“I’m not going to hit you,” he reminds you right off the bat.
You playfully gasp, pressing your knuckles to your hips. “What if someone bursts into my room and attempts to knock me out, hm?” 
“That won’t happen.” You open your mouth to retort and he puts his hand up.
“Don’t.”
You whisper the words “but what if it does?”
You would’ve believed him and even called yourself paranoid, but considering you just had an attempt of murder on you, unfortunately, the idea wasn’t out the window anymore.
“Hit me.” Six gestures, and you step back instinctively, a bundle of worry in your chest. 
“Anywhere..?” You press your lips nervously into another.   
“Anywhere.” 
You dive your balled-up fists at him, and he swiftly moves to the side. It was some impressive reflex, and you did it again only to watch him repeat. You take a step back and smile, breathing through your words. “So, I guess my father doesn’t hire useless people.”
The more you try, the more useless it is, but you’re determined until finally he grabs your wrist and holds it. “You’re too predictable, you can do better. Come on.” A huff escapes, and you swing directly at his eye, but he dodges just in time. 
“Better.” Six pauses, and moves to you, grabbing your fist. “Like this.” He moves your hand in the direction, imitating the movement, and once he steps back, you copy. “Good,” he compliments, and you step back, smiling.
Six makes a gesture with his hand, directing it to him as if saying to keep it coming. Taking a deep breath, you move to punch him, and he dodges. You do the same movement several times and he all but does the same, except each time you notice you were getting just a little closer to his window.
Eventually, you pant and hold your hands to your knees. “This is a lot more tiring than it looks.” 
Six looks around at the daylight slowly diminishing. “You should eat, it’s dinnertime.”
“You cooking?” You ask, taking a deep breath. 
“Not unless you like cereal.” He jokes with that blank tone as he walks away, but you give a small chuckle before following him. 
There was a question you were itching to ask as you sat down, and you gave him several glances to determine his mood. Then again there was never anything that showed what he might be thinking, so you purse your lips and look down at your food again. “What?” Six speaks up, and you turn to him, quietly staring. 
“Nothing,” you mutter, eating a forceful spoonful of your rice. 
Sierra Six hums, his gaze lingering over you, and you stand, getting up to walk to your freezer. “There’s no more ice cream,” you pout. 
“Good. I won’t be able to hear about how chocolate is better than vanilla for a while now.” You turn around to Six who has a little playful glint in his eye, and you fake pout, moving to sit back down. 
“You didn't enjoy my talks?” 
“I would’ve if you chose vanilla.” He jokes, and when you laugh he can’t help the small smile that tugs his lips.
You rest your hand on your cheek and find yourself gawking at him. Six eventually speaks through the strange tension. “You look like you have something you’re wanting to ask, so what is it?”
Biting your lip, you look away for a moment and eat another spoonful of bland rice. Life without your fancy chefs was definitely a depressing one. 
“Nothing I haven’t already asked you.” You say in a small mumble, and six hums, stopping his movements at the laptop. 
“You’ve asked me a lot in these past few weeks. Like what icecream flavor is my favorite, if I like ketchup better than mustard, if whiskey is better than bourbon, if-“ Cutting him off, you sigh. 
“What’s your name?” Six gives the same blank neutral expression, but as if he’s thinking. “Unless.. you don’t have one.. but you’ve got to right? You weren’t born an agent.. were you?” You ramble on, and six eventually lets out a small exhale, tilting his head. 
“Court.” He states and you quiet, keeping your eyes on his. Suddenly you smile, then it turns into a grin, and you laugh. He looks confused this time, “what?”
“Nothing… I’m just.. happy you told me.” A giggle escapes you, and there’s a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. Court raises a brow and gets back to work, his side gaze lingering on you as you move to put your dishes into the washer. 
“Goodnight Court,” you sing with a little giggle and wave. 
“Good night (Y/n).” He says, his focus back on his screen. Yet as you walk away the smile he held within him escapes fully.  
Throughout the night you found yourself tossing and turning, your head filled with thoughts of six- or Court. The house felt safer with him, you admitted, and on many nights when you were scared, he soothed you to sleep with his presence that you bothered to have near you.  
“Six?” You call out, making your way out of the bed with your little nightgown on. No answer and your heart leaps up into your throat. He always answered the first time. What if someone actually did intrude and he wasn’t there, or worse, he lost? God you were starting to sound like your dad, no way that’d happen… But what if it did? 
“Six..?” You call out quieter, tiptoeing around the door frames like a scared little child. There were no lights on, and the windows displayed only the inky blackness outside. It must’ve been, what, 2 am? Now you were beginning to get very worried, and your heart began to beat so fast it was drowning out the quietness of your large house. 
“Six..?” you call out yet again, and no response. 
When you turn a corner, there’s the body of an unfamiliar man on the floor which makes you jump back. Your toe pokes at him, and he doesn’t move. Your anxiety is now fully spiked, and you rush around the hall to call out for six. You find yet another black outfitted body, blood leaking from their chest onto the floor. Although, you didn’t notice that part until you tripped and fell on it. Groaning out in pain, you clutch your head, and call out one last "S-Six!".
Suddenly you hear glass breaking and a silenced gunshot which makes you jump. There's a heavy thud at your feet, it’s the body of another man, and when you look up, it’s Court who stands above you, alive and on his two feet.
He lets out a breath, and you ogle up at him, unsure of what to even say. Court gestures his hand to you and you take it. He instantly pulls you to your feet and you tiptoe silently around the body in front of you. You open your mouth to speak, but his focus zones behind you.
Something is moving in the corner of your sight and you shriek in reflex, instantly rotating to punch the assailant. "Ow!" They hiss in pain and recoil, holding their nose. You stare, wide-eyed, and when the man removes his hand from his face, his eyes narrow onto you. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you contemplate running for a moment but you are more than determined, so you hold up your fist and muster up the same expression.
Suddenly an object flies over your shoulder, it nearly grazes your cheek before it lands deep into the chest of the man who is knocked back. Turning, you see Court who has a serious expression on his face, possibly the most you've ever seen.
You don't have much time to breathe out a word as another man comes behind him. Court rotates just in time and lands a loud sucker punch to the man’s jaw. The attacker stumbles back and gasps, attempting to grab at his pistol that Court more than easily undoes and the magazine falls to the floor. Court lands another hard hit, and you can visibly see the blood that leaks from the attacker’s nose as he repeats, and repeats.. and repeats to the point where you might as well feel guilty for the poor guy.
Cringing, you turn away, and you assume Court is finally finished when he lets out a breath and walks towards you. You study his movements as he nears the man beneath your feet and yanks the blade out from his chest. He takes a rag nearby and begins wiping the blood from it. You notice there is also blood running down his arm and without thinking your hands quickly roam to find the wound. 
“Are you okay?” There was pure concern in your voice, and he scans you as if deep in thought. 
He answers after a few seconds, shrugging, “I’m fine, just a little graze.” You frown and he adds, “You should be sleeping,” breaking you from the focus on his arm. 
You huff. “When did they come in?” 
“Now.” Court continues wiping the blade, not even looking at you. 
“I told you I wouldn’t need any help.” Court continues in his monotone voice and you’re breathless in pure astonishment. You wanted to gasp out a “You’re unbelievable," but in reality, you say what you know annoys him. 
“But you might've.” He cracks just the edge of a smile at you. 
Your knuckles are a bruised red and you can't help but smile as you add, “Did you see the punch I landed? I did more than help, are you kidding?" Court chuckles and god even at a moment like this your heart flutters. 
"Really? That's weird, I feel like I remember teaching you that punch. When was it..?" He looks to the ceiling as if just struggling to remember, “Just earlier today?" You were stuck in your smile, and your head tilts like a lovesick puppy, eyes glued to his. He gives you a sweet smile, then examines your dress which now has a puddle of red in it from when you tripped. 
“You should go change.” He comments as if trying to shift the moment, and you hum, looking down at the bodies on the floor. It’s not like this is the first time you’ve seen this, considering the line of work your father was in, but the shake of six possibly getting hurt, or that they were coming for you upset you more than anything. 
“I couldn’t go to sleep.” You now change the subject, looking up at him. He doesn’t respond, so you touch his hand and gently grab the knife that he was working at and place it on the counter. “Do you ever sleep?” 
“Rarely. I can’t really afford to, considering,” he gestures to the bodies, “someone might break in.” 
“What if I stand watch, and you sleep?” You offer, and he laughs for a bit. When he notices you’re serious, he gives you a look as if you just said something ridiculous. He scoffs and you pout.
He shakes his head, “That’s not your job.”
“No, it’s not. But my job as a host should be to make you feel comfortable and well-rested in my home.” You tilt your head, giving the best puppy eyes you could muster. 
“Interesting character development.” He jokes and you pout. 
“Come on, please? Starting tomorrow, you can take the best nap of your life.” You hold his hands that were once cleaning the knife and squeeze gently. Blue meets (e/c), and for a quiet long moment, it remains that way. Six doesn’t say anything, he just stares, and you do the same. Eventually, he decides to speak.
“I should probably clean this up.” You look around and take a step back forgetting to remember you’re an inch away from a pile of blood. 
“Oh.. right.. yeah.” You trail off, giving him one last look as he does to you, before you nod, and walk off. 
“Good night (Y/n),” he says and you turn back and smile. 
 “Good night Court.” 
The closer you got to the time of your dad coming back from his trip, the more a big twinge of disappointment would hit you. It was almost 2 weeks left now, and you felt a sadness thinking of it. It would mean no more Court, and he would go on his way to other missions, or worse, even become a bodyguard to some other girl who’s conveniently all alone in a big house. 
“Are you okay?” Asked Court who was, as usual, typing on his computer while you ate. 
“Yeah.” Responding, you stab sadly at your eggs and let out a sigh. He wouldn’t like you anyway, not with how bad you treated him the first few days. There was no way.
Maybe it was a good thing he was leaving soon, so you could just be on your way and stop being so lovesick. Sooner or later another guard will come and you’ll go back to making their life a nightmare. 
Court stares at you from the sides of his eyes, and hums. “I’ve been with you long enough now to know what’s wrong, so tell me.” He pushes his computer out of the way and directs his focus onto you. “What’s on your mind?”
Your lips purse, and for a moment you think of lying or not telling him anything, but you finally decide, that if he wasn’t going to be here after these 2 weeks anyway, then what was the point of keeping it to yourself? 
“I’m just.. disappointed you’ll leave soon.” Court tilts his head, probably not even sure how to respond to that. 
“You’re the only guard I’ve liked. So far I’ve made all of them quit, or even want to kill me themselves. My dad probably expects that you’re already gone or wanting to blow your own brains out by now. But… you’re here.” Awkwardly you finish your statement, refusing to stare at him in the eyes.. until finally you do. He gives you this questionable expression, and truthfully all of his emotions have been at least a tiny bit readable, but right now, you’re truly unsure of what he’s thinking. All you seem to notice is a glimmer in his eyes, maybe something sad, happy, mad, you really couldn’t tell. 
“Yes.. I am.” He trails off like he wants to say more. 
“Why?” 
Court shakes his head for a moment and glances down, then he shrugs. “It’s my job.” Exhaling, you push yourself back into your seat. 
Thinking of what to say and biting back a disappointment, you muster out a painstaking gratitude. “Well… I thank you for doing your job. In 2 weeks, you won’t see me again, and I’ll be back to making someone else’s job here hell. So.. you’re almost free.” You joke, but in a way that hurts you. A small fake smile is all the reaction you want to give, but the humor that makes its way to your words is almost nonexistent. 
There’s a harsh jab that hits your heart that you’re attempting to push down. You knew he wouldn’t like you, it’s outlandish, but still, the tears that force their way to your eyes made it hard to show no emotion. Court sees it, and his attempted stoic gaze remains on you, but you can see he’s feeling emotions he’s unsure of, or like he’s thinking hard. His mouth opens to speak after a few seconds but you don’t want to hear it, not the words that you’ve been dreading, not the confirmation that’ll break your heart.  
“I’m going to shower.”
He nods, and you purse your lips, turning away from him. Once you are sure he couldn’t see you, a few tears fall to your cheeks. 
You put your hair up in a clip and decide to give yourself a nice bath instead. Undressing yourself, you lock the door to the bathroom and turn on the faucet, adding in a scent of your favorite soap. The bubbles rise to the top, and you watch, spacing out as you wait for the water to fill the spacious tub. Once it’s done you dip your legs in one by one and slowly sink yourself in, enjoying how the hot water settles your nerves. Once Court is gone, you’ll go back to normal, surely. Your eyes close and you let out a relaxed exhale.
You must’ve stayed there for longer than you thought, because there was a knocking at the door, and you mumble unintelligibly to yourself, rubbing your eyes awake. Muttering tiredly, you ask, “Yeah..?”
“It’s been a few hours. Are you good in there?” Court calls out, a slight worry in his tone. 
Humming lazily, you draw yourself out of the bath and swing a robe on, your hair partially wet in its bun. “Sorry, I.. must’ve passed out.” You nearly whisper, opening the door to see Court’s face. He nods, and you both share a longing gaze. 
“Right um… I’m going to get changed.” You cut off the awkward moment, walking off before he could see the light blush that dusts your cheeks. The way your heart beats, betrays the nonchalant thoughts of him leaving and reminds you painfully of the attachment you have. Once again, the idea of him vanishing right when your father arrives causes a pure sinking pain in your heart. 
You throw on whatever’s comfortable and let out a sigh. Grabbing your hairbrush you tiredly begin brushing your hair while a sad pout glues to down turn your lips.
A knock on your door alerts you. Courts at the doorframe, his hands folded over one another, his blue orbs holding a certain sweetness when he views your form. 
Nervously finding yourself caught in his gaze again, you pull away clearing your throat. “Hi…” 
“Hi.” He responds, remaining still. It’s another awkward moment as you slowly brush your hair.
Court suddenly starts, “I’m not going to leave.” You stop, your attention shifting to him. He adverts his eyes for a moment and shuffles his legs, then focuses back.
He speaks with his usual neutral tone, but there’s a slight mix of something unreadable in there. Your attention is now stuck on him and every word he has to say.
“As tempting as it is to no longer have to hear about.. chocolate being better than vanilla,” you both share a small chuckle, “I don’t want to be “free” from you.” Court peers longingly, and you’re not sure what to say, you’re barely even blinking, your heart is leaping into your throat and you swallow roughly. You’re unsure of what exactly he means by this.
Court continues. “The only way I’ll leave is if you want me to leave,” he pauses, “Do you want me to leave?” 
“No,” you whisper, eyes glued to his. 
He walks towards you, slowly and steadily. “Then I won’t leave..” Court trails off, and you avert your attention. 
“What about when it’s no longer your job?” He takes a seat beside you and uses his thumb and index to hold your chin gently, making you gaze back into him. 
“It’ll always be my job.” He practically whispers. 
You scoff, “To be my bodyguard?” 
“No, to protect you,” He says surely, and your cheeks instantly turn a soft pink. 
This time you mumble back, a small frown on your features. “Even when you have to leave?” 
“Even when I have to. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be gone forever.”
Your eyes keep staring directly into his blue orbs, and you aren’t sure if it was his face that got closer, or yours, but eventually, your lips touch, and your lids close peacefully. He tasted sweet and was softer than you’d imagine. Upon separation, your gazes remain fixated on one another, and a genuine smile tugs at both your lips. 
You speak without thinking, “I like you. You know that?” Court hums, breaking out into a laugh. His lips spread wide into a grin, and your heart skips just a little beat. 
“Just like?” This time you chuckle. 
You bite your lip and coyly tilt your head. “You gotta earn that second part.” 
“And how do I do that?” Court asks, his voice soft. His fingers dance over your cheek, and you go weak at just the idea of his face so close to yours that you almost can’t even respond. He’s returned your feelings, and this makes you ecstatic. Your breath hitches when he leans in and plants a kiss on your lips. 
“Just like that?” He asks, smug, and you nod, breathless, moving to touch his dark blonde beard that frames his features so well. 
“Just like that,” you whisper, and he smiles, moving in to kiss you again.  
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prythianpages · 1 year ago
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Stuck On You | Part Three
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cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.
“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”
[series masterlist]
A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.
Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse
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“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”
“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand. 
“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”
She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.
You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.
Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your inner turmoil concerning Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.
You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.
However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of her little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.
“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”
“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.
“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered. 
“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”
“And quieter!”
“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”
“Go to your room!”
“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.
You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.
**
Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday. 
Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.
He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.
You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.
Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.
However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this. 
Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.
You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.
Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.
“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.
“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”
You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”
You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”
“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.
“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.
 A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the delicate balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.
“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”
“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”
You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich aroma of the hot cocoa.
“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”
Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.
“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”
**
The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.
“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”
“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.
Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.
“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.
“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.
Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:
“Nothing!”
Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.
When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.
 You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.
Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.
“Cassian.”
He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.
His throat tightened. “Yes?”
“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”
A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his. 
“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”
“Please don’t push me away.”
 “They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”
“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”
A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”
The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.
Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?
“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”
Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.
“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”
**
Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back. 
When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.
Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”
You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.
Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.
In stepped the formidable son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.
The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern. The atmosphere had shifted from one of amiability to one of quiet deference, all eyes now focused on the figure who seemed to hold the establishment in the palm of his hand.
Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.
“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”
“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”
“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”
“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.
Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”
Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”
Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit. 
“I–”
“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”
Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”
“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”
His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.
“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”
You lifted your gaze.
The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.
“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”
**
The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.
But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age. 
She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.
Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.
"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."
You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands. 
You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.
He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”
Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.
 “It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”
**
Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.
A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.
Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty. 
An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.
The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the subtle glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.
There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.  
“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.
“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Can I come in?”
You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.
Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.
His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”
To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”
“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”
Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.
“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.
He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”
A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.
 "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”
Despite her attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"
“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.
“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.
His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”
“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”
Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.
“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”
“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”
More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.
You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.
Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”
Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”
“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”
“Y/N–”
“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”
Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.
Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"
"I thought you were here to stay.”
Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news. 
“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.
“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”
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[series masterlist]
A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷
tagging: @kemillyfreitas
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leonw4nter · 10 months ago
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The Cotton Candy Haze Mirrors The Warmth Of Your Gaze
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RE2R!Leon x F!Reader
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Coming back home from working 4 shifts in a single day for the fifth time this week, you went home looking and feeling like a hot mess– ponytail looking like you got into a fight and lost, eyes sunken in with dark bags underneath them, and pimples breaking out in several spots in your face and back. Despite how much your body craved a deep and restful sleep, you couldn’t give yourself that because grad school, especially medical school, won’t pay its own tuition along with living expenses. Juggling 4 odd jobs, along with working overtime for the sake of getting extra pay is really taking a toll on you: you’ve been cranky lately and you haven’t found proper time to be studying for the upcoming board exams, resorting to bringing all your books and notes in your bags so you’ll have time to read in case you’re free while still at work. Hell, you haven’t even found time to take Leon on dates due to how hectic and overwhelming everything is; you’re certain that the last time you and Leon spent some quality time cuddling together was three months ago. An icky guilt seeps into your weary bones, especially since Leon’s also taking up some jobs on the side to help with your expenses and along with his police academy’s costs but he still manages to make you meals, remind you to drink water, and drive you to wherever you need to be. With a frustrated groan, you fumble through your bag to look for your keys but unfortunately you couldn’t find it and deduced it to your forgetfulness, having left it at the bowl by the door back inside.
“Fucking hell,” you bitterly hiss. You were just about to knock at a neighbor’s door for the spare key you handed them but then you suddenly remembered that you haven’t had the chance to give them an emergency spare key yet since you were procrastinating on it, much to your disadvantage now. Exasperation causes tears to flood your waterline, your vision going blurry as you reach to contact Leon to tell him that you’ve been locked out but you forgo it, thinking that he’s probably had a long day as well and that he doesn't need another thing to be bugging him. You sink down by the door, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before taking your notes out to start reviewing again since you’re free and waiting for him to come home. A few minutes pass and you hear the pad of footsteps nearing you. Swiftly, you place your notebook back in your bag and sling it over your shoulder, getting up and dusting your legs before seeing Leon’s kind smile beaming down on you like the first few rays of the sunlight on a new day.
“Hey, baby.” you softly mumble as you place a kiss on his cheek.
“Hi,” he says as he pulls you in for a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Got locked out. Forgot to bring the keys. I also didn’t ask the neighbors for the keys since I didn’t give them spares yet,” you quietly admit. You look down at your feet, shame creeping in. “Leon’s had a long day and here you are, worrying him even more. Great job, Y/N. Real girlfriend of the year,” you glumly think to yourself.
“Oh– I forgot to tell you this too but I already gave the spares to the neighbors. You’ve been really busy lately so I decided to do it instead,” he says. “Sorry about that. It just slipped from my mind.”
“No. It’s fine, it really is.” you say with a tired yet genuine smile.
Leon fishes out his key from his backpack before slotting it into the keyhole and unlocking the door, opening it and letting you head in first. You slip out of your work shoes, placing your bag on the couch and collapsing right beside your things with a loud sigh.
“I’m so tired with everything,” you loudly groan as you cover your face with both hands and proceed to groan a little more. Leon walks over to the back of the couch, wrapping his arms from behind you and placing comforting kisses to your hair.
“Tell me what’s going on. I’m just going to sit here and listen,” he softly whispers as he lightly pats your shoulder.
With a deep sigh, you ramble on about everything that’s bothering you. Tears prick your eyes again and there’s more than one occasion to your voice breaking. He stays quiet, arms still wrapped around as he nods to whatever you say, occasionally pressing his lips into your head as you vent about whatever.
“I can’t afford a review center and I don’t have time to study before the board. I’m going to fail, Leon. I won’t end up somewhere,” you finish. You recline back into his touch, feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted from your shoulders. Leon unwraps his arms around you for a bit, walking over to your place on the couch before pulling you in for a more proper hug as he delicately sways you from side to side.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s fine,” he softly mumbles. “You’ve been working and studying so hard. I can see all the effort you’re putting into making sure you reach your dreams and trust me, you will pass the board. You make time to study each day and I can see that you’ve got the drive to succeed, you can do this. Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you and your capabilities, okay?”
You sniffle, hugging back and staying silent for a bit before your shaky and slightly squeaky voice speaks up, the sound slightly muffled since you buried your face into the comforting scent of your boyfriend’s sweatshirt.
“But Leon, there’s more people who're smarter than me and they’re going to pass and I’m not going to. What if I’m not enough?” you say, which causes Leon to pull away from the hug and cup your cheeks in between his big and calloused hands.
“You’re going to pass. You’re smart, you’re my smart girl. There’s no way you’re not going to pass, okay? You will be a licensed nurse and you will reach your dreams. You’re more than enough for this and for me. Don’t let anyone and anything tell you that you’re not enough because you are. More than you’ll ever know.” He finishes with a small kiss to the tip of your nose before moving to your lips. Your own hand climbs up to lightly wrap around his wrists, maintaining comfortable eye contact.
“I’m sorry,” you softly tell him, your words coming out like a whisper.
“For what?” Leon says with a surprised smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”
“Yes I did, Leon.” you bashfully respond. “I haven’t been giving you much attention lately. You also do many things for me like driving me to school and doing my laundry but I don’t find the time to repay you. Just earlier, I got you worried because I was sitting just right outside the door when you already have a lot on your own plate. I’m just adding to that list of things that keeps you up at night and–”
Leon cuts you off by placing his index finger against your lips to shush you before gently moving you to be laying on his lap as he plays with your hair and scratches your scalp in the way he knows you love.
“Nope. I understand that you’ve gotta give a hundred percent of your attention to your studies, especially that your future job concerns human lives. I’m just doing my job by being here for you as your number one fan and making sure you still take care of yourself. I’m busy too but you’re not bothering me or causing me more stress, just the opposite actually. Now just lay on my lap and let me make you feel a lot better, yeah?” he softly says as he continues massaging your head, prompting your eyelids to drape over your eyes as you sigh in satisfaction.
“Unless you wanna have dinner first–”
“No. Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”
He continues to rake his fingers through strands of your hair, his fingers gently scratching your scalp and applying a good amount of pressure to your temples in order to effectively massage them. Most of the time, it’s you who’s giving Leon scratches and massages but it feels great to be at the receiving end of some pampering and loving from your boyfriend. He stops for a little bit, your eyes flying open to see Leon reach over to get a blanket to wrap you in it. Snuggling into the blanket, he continues his soothing ministrations to your head. You swear that if you were a cat and Leon was petting you in this way, you would purr so loud.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
You finally finished taking your board exams about a month ago and ever since then, you would eagerly open up your laptop or phone just to look at whether or not you passed. Each time, your fingers would wobble and your palms would sweat to the point you frequently wipe them on your pants so your phone wouldn’t slip out of your grip. Your thoughts would shift between the confidence that you passed since you reviewed and studied and practiced so much and the fear of failure, the icky feeling of being a failure with no direction in life eroding at the happiness you built for yourself but luckily Leon was always there to keep those crusty, self-deprecating tendencies at bay.
“You passed!” Leon practically screeches. With quivering hands he shoves his phone back into his pocket and lunges at you, almost toppling over the tables as he wraps you around in one of the best hugs he’s ever given you.
“Huh? What?” is all you could muster in this state of shock and surprise.
He pulls away and opens up your laptop, going straight to your email and the school portal where they released the list of passers. Sure enough, your last name is listed.
“My girl is going to become a licensed nurse!” he shouts with the proudest, most vibrant smile you’ve ever seen him smile. 
Tears of pure, unadulterated joy spilled from your waterline and flowed down your cheeks, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins whilst also feeling relief at the fact that you passed. Now it’s your turn to lunge at Leon, springing at him and tackling him with your arms tightly enveloped on his larger frame as you jump up and down, toppling over into the couch and hugging him even tighter due to the renewed sizzle of joy running through your person. After a few moments of laying on top of each other and smiling and pressing kisses into each other’s face, you get up and phone friends and family to tell them that you managed to pass the boards. Leon called up his own friends Ethan and Chris to tell them of your results, sending pictures. You hear Leon and his friends giggling on the other side of the room, squealing and giggling like school girls. His face, the tips of his ears, and neck are flushed a vibrant pink the more he talks about how proud he is of his girl. Many times he showed the email and your name on the passers list to his friends, cheers and congratulations being the reception whenever he did, much to his massive delight. Finally, you finish up phoning friends and family and go to Leon, pressing a passionate kiss to his soft baby lips upon his soft baby face. He could feel you grinning against him with each gentle smack; Leon quite never figured out if the beauty of your lips was more of their softness or their association with whatever words you spoke, which always pulled him under a spell he didn’t wish to surface from. You pull away, gazing deeply into eyes painted a soothing blue watercolor hue and not wanting to break this moment of peace, the sensations feeling intimate in a way more than the physical contact of bodies.
“I’m so proud of my girl. My smart, amazing, lovely, sweet girl who will be a nurse soon,” he softly whispers.
“I’m proud of myself too, Leon. Thank you for supporting me, helping me out, and being there for me when I needed you most. I couldn’t have done this without you,” you sincerely thank him.
“You’re a strong independent woman, Y/N. You don’t need anyone to get you somewhere because you carry yourself with an air of confidence and independence but I’m very thankful and lucky you let me in your life.”
“Gosh, Leon. You’re going to make me cry but thank you. I mean it so much. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“So… should we eat out? I’ve got some change to spare.”
“It’s on me. I’ve been saving up, I have a surprise for you but it won’t hurt to celebrate my Y/N’s passing.”
You smack his chest playfully, the blond laughing at his little joke.
“You made it sound like I died!”
“Oops. Looks like it might result in a grave misunderstanding.”
“God, let’s just get ready for dinner.”
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Leon's POV
I took her out to dinner that night, picking out a nice Korean grill for us to dine in since she enjoys Korean grills so much. Nothing felt more satisfying than seeing all her efforts pay off; all those readings and memorizations giving her the success she rightfully deserves. Right now, I’m seeing her devour her entire plate and in the blink of an eye she’ll get up to get seconds but I don’t mind; seeing her eat good food and indulge makes me feel happy. I feel satisfied, as if I don’t need to eat because her happiness is enough to keep me going for days on end. We’ve both decided to keep working some more jobs to be able to have more savings to add in our accounts so we could afford to move into a better place, probably nearer to Raccoon City since I’m going to be stationed there by next month. She doesn’t know this but I managed to prepare a little surprise for her, which is a 2 day camping get-away; deep in the forest, surrounded by trees, the stars shining above us, and the cold weather. She deserves a little break, we both do, so I planned this. I’m free for the next few days too so this is going to be perfect, I’m grinning just at the thought of it.
“What’re you smiling about?” she asks, but it comes out sounding a little difference since she’s got some food in her mouth.
“Nothing. You look beautiful tonight,” I respond, which isn’t exactly a lie. The buzz of glee just gives her this glow that makes me want to get on my knees and worship her like the goddess she is.
She gets back to eating, doing a little happy dance every now and then. She’s also insisted on feeding me, making sure I finish at least 3 plates because “one can never be too full”, which I appreciate since she just wants me to eat well and I want to have the energy to walk her around town tonight.
After dinner, we took a walk around town. I stopped by at a flower shop, getting her flowers as one of my many little gifts. It feels tempting to tell her about our little camping getaway coming up in a few hours but I want to build up an element of surprise and blissfully catch her off guard. The evening gets cold and a little quiet so I shrug off my jacket, draping it over her shoulders and making sure she’s all warm and toasty.
“You good?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Thanks,” she shyly says as she huddles into my jacket even more. I advised her to bring along a coat since the night could get a little chilly but she refused. As long as the cold won’t bother her and make her feel ill, I don’t really mind because I like seeing her in my clothes and having the smell of her perfume on my things. We take a few more strides, a comfortable settling between us as we walk hand in hand and go wherever our hearts desire. I turn my head and steal a lengthy glance from her; the delicate breeze sends her hair flowing smoothly like a poet’s ink and quill, the fine strands woven from spacetime and starlight as the streetlight’s luminescence bounces off; her body is absolutely perfect, worthy of all praises and respectful admiration with curves that mold in my hands just right but her genuine beauty is from within her heart; God, she’s captivating. She looks at me and I promptly look away, keeping my gaze trained on something else as heat is concentrated on the apples of my cheeks. I can hear a twinkling giggle from her, followed by her fingers pinching a cheek as she giggles even louder.
“You’re too cute, Leon. Gosh, you’re so adorable! You’re like– the most puppy-looking person I’ve ever met and I love that!” she squeals.
“Baby, my cheeks are hurting.” I say in a small voice.
She pulls her fingers away, gently running a hand over where she pinched and gave the spot a peck.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I know you can’t get enough of me.” I quip, followed by a wink.
“You’re not wrong but you’re one cocky person,” she says but a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
“I’m your cocky person.”
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
A day later.
Hours ago, I woke her up at 4:45 AM so we could get ready. Of course, she was a bit disoriented because I didn’t say anything to her but after I told her about my little surprise, she practically launched from the bed and got ready immediately. She slept early last night– slept very soundly too, not a single noise rousing her from sleep. While she slept, I carefully slipped out of bed and packed everything we needed, her things included. It was kind of difficult, having to pack things quietly and move them to the car without causing much thudding but I managed to get it done in 3 hours. After several rounds of double checking everything and making sure there was nothing I left out, I finally made my way back up to our apartment and locked the doors to retire for the night. I could barely sleep due to the rush of giddiness coursing through my person but I forced myself to; after all, I’ll be the driver and it’s going to be irresponsible if I don’t.
Now, she’s sitting in the passenger seat with a blanket draped over her lap as she quietly drinks in the view that speeds right past the window. Everytime I see her and she innocently looks right at me, I feel a little antsy and nervous, having to feel around in my pockets and try to calm myself down. In an hour or two, we’ll get to the spot and then finally set our camp up before we start preparing the ingredients we’ll be using for cooking. The campsite we chose is a little more secluded, right by a lake that’s unfortunately too cold to safely swim in but that doesn’t take away the charm of the entire spot. The release of the board passers coincidentally going before the day of the trip I planned is a perfect coincidence, making this whole thing a celebratory trip for her but I want to add another thing to celebrate later so for now, it’ll stay as another secret.
Finally, I pull up at our spot and park the car. We carry our supplies and set up grills, our tents, and a spot to keep all of our food and drinks and utensils. We finish early so we set up the inside of our tent, placing a comfortable blanket on the floor so the bumpy and rigid ground doesn’t cause any of us back pains the following morning. All afternoon speeds past us as we spend the hours cuddling, Y/N saying something like how the weather is “perfect cuddle weather”. Soon, it’s nighttime and we finish up with everything: dinner, a quick towel bath (since the showering in this weather would get us both sick), so now we’re just sitting by the bonfire and huddling close.
“Thanks, Leon. Thank you for all this. A celebratory dinner was enough but I guess you decided to outdo yourself,” she says as she leans her head on my shoulder.
“This is nothing. Besides, you deserve this,” I say.
We sit in silence for a little bit before she speaks up again.
“We should celebrate some more wins in life, y’know. Even the little things, we should celebrate it one way or another. It doesn’t have to be this grand,” she tells me.
“Yeah. You’re right, we should celebrate wins in life,” I agree. This is it. “You’re a big win in my life, Y/N, and I want to celebrate you everyday.”
My hand slips into my pocket, my fingers feeling the velvet of a tiny box holding my promise of the world and forever to Y/N.
I can’t imagine ever growing old without you, nor do I desire to.
If all goes well, we’ve just given ourselves another reason to be celebrating.
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NOTE - Woke up today to see that in a month, I've managed to hit a hundred followers!!!!!!! LET'S GOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Srsly so thankful for everyone who decided to follow me and read my fics, I love you and wish you well. I didn't expect to reach a hundred this early into my writing journey so this is so cool. I also told my mom that I write now and she seems supportive so I'm really happy with that. I guess this fic functions as a hundred-followers-special now :)) That's it and I hope you really enjoyed this fic. Again, thank you for the hundred followers!!!!! I couldn't have done it without you &lt;3!!!
The chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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veryinnovative · 11 months ago
Text
@jegulus-microfic | january 2, prompt: fire | word count: 1.575 featuring older ceo regulus black and younger intern james potter
“A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries? What does that even fucking mean?!” James shouts into the receiver as he winds through the busy masses of bodies crossing the roads, the traffic light across blinking for him to hurry. “Can’t I pick up something for him from Burger King or something? You know, like a normal human being?” 
On the other end of the line, Barty snorts a derisive sound. “Yeah, you try feeding him cheap chain franchise slob and see how that plays out for you. The fucker thinks Versace is a low-class brand, James. He probably doesn’t even know what the inside of a Burger King looks like. Besides, that place is fire. They have good shit.”
Groaning, James picks up the speed and sets out for a sprint, having missed the bus to Howick and resorted to the most reliable way of transport—his two sets of healthy, always moderately trained legs. 
“Are you running? You better not be fucking running, Potter. You’re going to come back all sweaty and with creases in your cheap-ass button-up and then I’m going to be the one getting shit for not driving you and ruining the image of Regulus Black’s executive assistant—”
“Suck a dick, Barty,” James bites back after barely evading a car, its tires screeching at him in warning. He throws the driver an apologetic smile.
“I’m serious. You meal-prepped, Potter! Asked where the fucking office microwave is, are you out of your mind? Lunch is on company credit, for fuck’s sake. You’ve got an image to uphold now you’re working for Black Enterprises!”
“The cafeteria is too rich for my taste. Besides, I like meal-prepping. It’s calming.”
“Your fucking tuna stinks up the place.”
“Maybe that’s just your big bullshitting mouth.”
“Listen here, you piece of—”
“Oops, entering a tunnel, hear that?” James cups a hand over the receiver and makes a low, grating sound—mimicking the static rasp of a bad cellular connection. “See you!”
He tucks away the phone before entering Beauxbatons, the restaurant Barty had told him to go to because Regulus was craving his guilty snack, which, to James, sounded like an item right off a witch’s menu. Then again, he was a poor twenty-three-year-old who had just had a gap year fresh out of university, lived in a run-down apartment tucked in Southern London, and knew nothing of the expensive tastes a man like Regulus Black possessed. Thirty-something years old and not a single skin blemish. Must be all the fucking truffle and caviar and whatever Boiron guava puree he eats.
“Welcome,” one of the employees asks. Of course, all of the staff are also wearing pristine clothes and have perfectly sleeked-back hair.
“Hi,” James answers, now all too conscious of the developing sweat marks below his armpits and the dampness cooling on his back. “I’m, uh, here to pick up lunch? Sorry, I forgot my order so let me have a peek at my messages…”
The employee blinks like James has grown a second head. “Take-away? Sir, this is a dine-in restaurant.”
Good thing James has come prepared. He shuffles through the contents of his bag, phone in the other hand and tip of his tongue peeking out in full concentration. “Oh, that’s alright. I brought something to carry it with me. I also got some Tupperware if you don’t mind rinsing it beforehand.”
“No, sir, it’s not a matter of containers,” the employee starts, her lips pursed into a tight line. “We don’t do takeaways.”
James stops and frowns, bag half slung over his shoulder. “Isn’t this Beauxbatons?”
“It is.”
“My boss sometimes has people pick up his lunch here.”
“You must be mistaken… We do not lend any type of service like that.”
James sighs. Great. Amazing. Just what he needed. “Right. Do you mind if I make a call? I’m sorry, there must have been a mistake then.”
The employee, undoubtedly taking pity on him and his disorderly state that suggests he’s been running the past ten minutes, nods. “Of course.”
Heaving a sigh, James scrolls through his contact list and taps on ‘Regulus’, never mind that he has been firmly instructed to only call him during emergencies. But considering the sort of day he’s been having, he considers this one.
Regulus picks up after the third ring. “Potter?”
It’s been two weeks and he still won’t fucking call him by his name, going off on tangents about formal office conduct and etiquette. Potter this, Potter that, bridling when he’s called by his first name for a change in an environment that would kiss the soles of his feet if he’d ask. “Hi, I’m at the place you sent me the address of but they don’t do takeaways so I wanted to know what you want to eat. You cool with Wagamama?”
There’s a pregnant pause—all too telling of how Regulus is probably taking a deep breath and doing the thing where he either pinches the bridge of his nose or rubs his eyebrows. “Have you mentioned the takeaway is for me?”
“No, I haven’t.” What difference would it make, James wants to ask. But in a world where Regulus Black is pretty much revered, he is confident it would make a little difference at least.
“Do that, Potter.”
James rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the employee. “He wants you to know his name is Regulus, by the way.”
Her eyes widen. “Reg—Do you mean Mr. Black?”
James clicks his tongue. “That the one.” The employee doesn’t look convinced and James holds up his hand just above his chest. “About this tall? Curly black hair? Probably in one of today’s morning tabloids, not hard to miss. I could put him on speaker if you’d like?”
There’s the frantic wave of her hands, head shaking vigorously. “Oh! You should have told me from the start, Sir. Please, what would Mr. Black like to eat for lunch? I—I’m sorry. We are very exclusive in our service and are most honored Mr. Black has once again chosen our humble establishment—”
“Just,” James sighs, skimming over the menu laminated standing on an easel by the entrance, not possessing the energy to listen to someone go off on tangents about his boss again. Not like he does so internally at night, anyway. Absolutely not. “A truffle wagyu burger with hand-cut fries.”
“Not fries, a salad—” Regulus reminds him over the phone, but James has decided that he will just about eat whatever James decides on.
“Potter—” Regulus tries again and James flat-out hushes him. To his surprise, Regulus actually shuts up.
The employee nods, over-excited. “Oh, of course, an excellent choice. How would Mr. Black like it to be cooked?”
James shrugs. “I don’t know, on a grill?”
There’s a faint garbled noise coming from Regulus that James will definitely tuck away in his memory.
But the employee is too thrilled to be serving someone as pompous as Regulus to notice the lack of culinary terminology James possesses. “Oh, I meant the cook of the meat!”
“The cook of the meat?” James repeats. “I don’t know, whoever is on shift? Regulus, who do you want to cook your burger?”
The employee makes a high-pitched sound at the same Regulus sighs in a very exaggerated, exhausted manner. “Just tell them medium rare.”
“Medium? What is this, a video game difficulty?”
“Medium rare!” the employee chirps, her smile wry. Strands of hair stick out of the previously perfectly pulled-back bun like the situation has created plenty of static to dishevel her updo. “One medium rare wagyu—”
“Don’t forget the fries,” James adds, unable to fight off the grin cleaving his face. This, he loves most—fucking with rich people. ‘Who do you want to cook your meat?’ he’s a genius for that one, an absolute innovative mastermind. Make him head of corporate next at this rate.
“You had to call me for this?” Regulus asks him as James watches the poor girl scurry off to the back, undoubtedly to ring in the order and gush about the perfect, rich, hot-looking Regulus Black on the phone by the restaurant’s hallway.
“It was an emergency. I get you the wrong order and you, I dunno, bite off my head like Miranda Priestly.”
“I don’t know a Miranda Priestly.”
“No? Shame. Would’ve loved her, a real feisty woman that one. She works in the fashion industry, though.”
“Potter.”
James tries not to bark out a laugh. He can’t help it, Regulus is just too easy. “Yeah, I’ll get you your overtly expensive A3-grade cut of meat that could pay for my weekly rent. Didn’t take you for the type of man to get burgers, by the way.”
“That’s why I’m asking employees of a lower tax bracket to pick them up for me.”
Okay, that’s kind of funny. Regulus Black can be fucking funny if he wants to, he just rarely chooses to. James barely masks his snort at it. “Got me there, boss.”
“Get a cab back to the office. And stop calling me boss.”
“My bad, Sir,” James drawls, knowing that Regulus reacts particularly well to this specific formality. 
A second of silence that stretches on for a little too long. James clears his throat, wondering if the line cut off. “Regu—”
“See you soon, Potter,” Regulus speaks, faster than usual, almost like he’s flustered, and with a strange pitch to his words before he hangs up.
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cherryobx · 11 months ago
Note
hiiii here to help you procrastinate! I suck at requests but I’m gonna make one and you can just see if you want to use it or not :)) so since I can’t personally hug you since your 24 hours away by car and I don’t have a drivers licence I want something cozy 👉👈 I’ve recently been obsessed with someone and for the first time I followed a twitch live stream because of him and it was so comforting to just listen to him play a game that I could fall asleep. so maybe something like gamer bf/gf and a sleepy reader OR a bookish reader, they’re gaming and the other reading or something. I want the coziness. but I have no clue if this is information that you can do something with so do whatever you want :)) and if you want to use it you can choose the character ☺️
Company || J.M.
Summary: JJ, your gamer bf, comes over and you spend a cozy evening together, sort of.
Word count: 0.7k
Warnings: no knowledge of gaming whatsoever, other than that none
A/N: thank you babe for this request!!!!!! and thank you for supporting my procrastination haha, hope you enjoy whatever this is (don't judge i haven't written anything in soooo long)
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JJ kept all of his gaming equipment at your place. He was scared of what his father might do if he ever got his hands on it in a fit of drunken rage. It was very expensive, he saved up for more than a year to afford all of it. You made space in your bedroom for another table so he could have his gaming station and his own little corner to game in. 
You loved when he was over at your place to play his video games you knew pretty much nothing about. It was a way for you to spend time together. Not in the sense that you were conversing or doing some activity together but just being in the same room with each other, enjoying each other’s company. It was so mundane but so sweet.
He had his headset on but only one of his ears was covered. When you asked about it one time he said he wanted to make sure he could still hear you if you needed anything. But in reality he also enjoyed the little sounds you made over at the other side of the room, whether it was blowing on your steaming tea, turning the pages of your book or the little laughs you let out when a character said something funny in your current read.
One evening he came over to game with his friends. He could tell you were tired just by the way you dragged your feet behind you and how you kept yawning every two seconds. You had a really long day behind you and all you wanted to do was curl up into a little ball under the warm covers in your bed and fall asleep.
He followed you into your bedroom and watched you flop face first onto the bed.
“Are you okay?” He took a seat next to you and placed his hand on your back, rubbing it in a relaxing motion making your eyelids fall closed.
“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled into the duvet.
“I don’t have to play right now, I can just tell them I can’t tonight. I’ll cuddle with you instead.”
But you insisted. “No. Go game with your friends. I’ll be out like a light in two seconds. Don’t even worry about me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Just come to bed when you’re done.”
“Of course.” He smiled and gave you a small kiss on your temple. 
He helped you crawl under the covers and tucked you in, making your heart swell. He gave you another kiss but this time on the lips. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before he stood up and sat down in his gaming chair behind the desk you had gotten him.
He turned everything on and logged into whatever game he was supposed to be playing with his friends that night.
His voice was quiet when speaking to his friends, he didn’t want to disturb you more than he already has. He kind of felt guilty about his situation although you had reassured him many times that you aren’t bothered by his stuff in your room. You actually liked that a piece of him was always in your personal space.
“Sorry, my girl’s sleeping,” he whispered into the microphone. It tugged the corners of your mouth upwards in your sleepy haze.
You didn’t really focus on his hushed conversations but the low tone of his voice was so calming and relaxing, it lulled you to sleep in no time.
When JJ finally finished up with his friends, he took the headphones off, placed them on the monitor and quietly made his way to your bed. Lifting the covers gently, he climbed underneath them and joined you in the warmth of your bed. 
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him, stirring you from your sleep.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“‘S okay,” you slurred, already falling back asleep. JJ nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent and feeling the sleep take him over as well.
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