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fairyysoup · 2 months ago

Text

the devil i know

chapter two: look here all you want

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets your car back. You're trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

cw: deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, depictions of abuse, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie makes sure that the man feels him before he sees him. It may be cruel, but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic– once a Dungeon Master, always a Dungeon Master– and what’s Hell without a little fun and debauchery?

The man smells Eddie’s sickly sweet, smoky aroma first. It’s the first thing anyone notices about him, of course. The shit follows him everywhere, alerting people of his presence like a fucking cat collar with a bell on it. The wind that he conjures always smells at least like a bonfire– at worst, he’s the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He guesses it’s some sort of infernal practical joke (he formed the hellfire club in life, so now he has to remain in it for the rest of time, or some shit. Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know all the answers, just the dumb ones).

Then the man jolts, his eyes flying all around him as he hears Eddie. Or, at least, what Eddie allows him to hear. It begins in whispers, like leviathans in the mists, murmuring and overlapping each other. It rocks slowly toward a crescendo. And then, Eddie’s voice, soft before the man realizes what’s happening to him.

“Found you.”

There’s a sickening crack, and then the windshield of the car explodes beneath the man’s spine. He barrel rolls to the ground to find Eddie looming over him, staring him down, his eyes dead black and unforgiving.

“Hi, Spencer.” The heel of Eddie’s boot crushes against the man’s chest, holding him down. Eddie’s voice is comically musical, like the crackling of brush just beginning to go up in flames. “Busy tonight, are we?”

The man, Spencer, trembles as he stares up at Eddie. Blood tinges his bottom lip, either from biting it when he hit the windshield, or from coughing up whatever blood exists in his fermented body.

He gestures at the duffel bag that he’d been holding when Eddie grabbed him, now laying on the ground. “Look, man– I dunno who you are, b-but you can have all the fuckin’ money, it’s right there–”

“I don’t want your fucking money.” Eddie squints at him, trying to gauge Spencer’s thoughts. They’re malicious, yes, but not murderous. He robbed the liquor store down the street, and then he pulled into the motel around the corner to try to check in with the money. He’s dangerous and stupid, but he’s not a killer. Yet.

Eddie didn’t have to read the guy’s mind to know that, though.

“Whose car is this?”

“What?”

“Whose–” Eddie digs his boot harder into the guy’s chest– “Car?”

“Some fuckin’ small town whore, how should I know?” Now is not the time to play coy. Spencer learns that when Eddie’s foot shoots forward, and the toe of his book connects ungraciously with his chin. Pain rockets through his jaw. “Fuck!”

“Save it.” Eddie’s temper has grown exponentially with his immortality, he thinks. He wonders sometimes if he’d always been this way, or if Hell has just made him worse. Probably both. “Do you have any idea who you’ve stolen from?”

He’s seen the memory– Spencer, drunk off his ass and running on blind adrenaline from robbing a corner store, stole your car from the parking lot of a diner; the diner where you work.

You had to walk home in the rain. Eddie’s heart practically aches, watching you come home to an empty apartment, dirty and wet and shivering. He never wants to see it happen to you again as long as you live. He’s promised you that it won’t.

He also promised they’ll get as good as they gave. And demon or not, Eddie Munson never ever goes back on a promise.

“Hell, I stole from lotsa people,” Spencer chuckles, his head sliding back and forth across the pavement as he rolls his eyes, gargling on the blood in his mouth. “F’yer here to collect, y’can just take the money and go. I ain’t got nothin’ else.”

“Oh, but you do, Spence.” Eddie grins with sharp teeth when he bends down to pick Spencer up by his throat. The flames in his eyes burst to life, roaring red and demonic. A flash of recognition crosses Spencer’s face when he realizes that Eddie is far more than he seems. “See, you stole from my girl. Now you get to suffer.”

Eddie was always intimidating. He made himself appear like that to push people away, until it started to backfire on him, and then it just got worse when he became a demon. It’s a natural instinct for humans to shrink away. He emanates danger, even when he’s not putting on a show– even when his eyes are dark and he isn’t producing fire from his hands.

That’s one of the things that sealed your fate. You didn’t shrink away from him, even when he tested you. He’s always been a show off, and he’s very egotistical, he won’t lie. He gave you a little taste of his dark side, showed you his hellfire and brimstone, and you called him hot. To his face.

Well, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Even if he wasn’t already sold on you, there was absolutely no way he was letting you go after that.

Eddie dumps Spencer on the ground. In Spencer’s head, the haunting voices seem to crash back raucously as magma boiling at the lip of a volcano. A chill sweeps through Spencer’s body as it retreats, as he feels the creeping panic rising in him, the ringing in his ears. Then, as soon as it fades, it’s again overthrown by the chorus, the cacophony of behemoth voices. Overlapping each other, humming along with the slow heartbeat of the drums.

It’s the arc toward the end of the death metal album Eddie wanted to write during his lifetime, but never got the chance to. It has to be good for something, even if Spencer is never going to appreciate Eddie’s musical genius.

Spencer doesn’t need to know that, though.

Spencer lays trembling, his hands clapped tight around his ears. Nothing will stop it, save time– and by then, Spencer will probably be wishing Eddie had just killed him and gotten it over with.

Eddie steps around Spencer’s body, sighing. If Hell has made him cruel, it’s also made him weirdly just. Great power, great responsibility… all that jazz.

Yeah, the powers are pretty fucking cool, he won’t lie about that.

The windshield of the car decompresses itself at Eddie’s touch, the glass creaking and groaning as it fits back into proper shape. From there, it glows bright orange and melts back into one solid pane of glass, back in the way that it had been before Spencer’s back played Happy New Year with it.

Eddie sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers nearly denting the steering wheel where he grips it. He just hopes that you don’t freak out when he gets your car back to you.

You freak out.

Granted, you only made the deal with Eddie yesterday, and you had a long day at work. For you, the afternoon had been painfully slow. Maybe it was a good thing that the diner doesn’t have a major rush every single lunch service, but it just means more of the shit work that your newbie manager, Colin, loves to give to you now that he has the authority to. You don’t know if it’s payback for you making him slice bread during his training, but he’s taking it a little bit too seriously.

You’re technically a waitress, so it’s really not in your fucking job description, but tonight he made you clean the men’s bathroom.

Did you know how many men will just ejaculate onto the wall of the men’s bathroom in a small town diner? No. But now you do, and the answer is too many.

You had to walk home, as per usual since your car was stolen a little less than a week ago. And then you got to your apartment complex, got to the last place on the last row of buildings, and your fucking car was there, in your parking space. Beautiful and gleaming and with fresh license plates.

You’re freaking out. You absolutely are– you didn’t think it was going to happen this quickly. You figured there must be some kind of wait period. Demons aren’t obligated to make shit happen right away, are they?

(They’re not. But this demon could care less.)

When you get inside, all it takes is a single whiff of smoke to deduce that he’s there. In your apartment. With all the lights turned off. You flick one on and find nothing.

“Eddie?” You say his name out loud for the first time, your voice muddled with awe. The faintest of murmurs, but to him you may as well have screamed it.

The lights flicker, and in a flash he’s standing before you. Across the room, leaning against the door to the bedroom like a vision. His eyes crackle with fire, a coy smirk on his face. “I like the way you say my name. It’s pretty.”

You startle, your body suddenly functioning apart from your mind. Your back hits the front door you’ve just stepped through, mirroring him.

“Whoa whoa whoa– hey! It’s okay.” He holds his hands out toward you, palms up, like you’re a frightened animal. In a way, you are. “We’ve been through this before, princess. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m just your friendly neighborhood demon.”

Eddie reminds himself to stop rewatching Spider-Man every time he gets a chance.

It has to be fake, you think. You’re exhausted, he couldn’t be here. And yet the room is filled with his fragrance, suffocating and somehow intoxicating. Like you might die from it but you’ll enjoy it all the same. It’s so magnetic that it nearly pulls you to him, taking a hesitant step forward toward the bedroom and then stopping short.

“How– you’re not– how are you here?” You ask him as softly as you can manage. “I thought you could only show up at a crossroads.”

“Not everything is literal, sweetheart.” He thumps his hand against the door behind him, giving you a dazed smile. “Points of entry and departure. Two paths meeting. Crossroads.”

“Huh.”

Eddie takes in the sight of you steadily, calmly, worried that if he moves too suddenly then you might disappear. You’re wearing a black, retro-style waitress’ dress and running shoes– muddy from your walk home. You clutch your house keys to your chest almost instinctively.

That reminds him of the reason that he’s here– not just to check you out, unfortunately. He brandishes your car keys, dangling them from one crooked finger. “Brought you your car.”

“Yeah, I, uh… I noticed.” After a heavy beat, you look away. Your voice is thick with tears– you’re crying. “Sorry. Thank you. I didn’t, um– I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Hey– You didn’t.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with your tears– he doesn’t want to see you cry, ever, but he’s spent a little too much time causing tears to know how to effectively stop them anymore. He places the keys on the counter nearest him, leading into the kitchen. “I know, it’s not what you’re used to.”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s nice.”

Eddie rocks back against the door, pressing into it. The wood creaks under his weight. “Nice,” he echoes. “Haven’t been called that in a while. It’s… nice.”

You snort, and it’s enough to have him grinning all over again. You turn away slightly, and when you turn back you smile at him sheepishly. Trying to suck back the tears that had sprung forth so quickly. “How did you get the car back?”

He squints. He thinks to remind you that he has magic, something that a normal person wouldn’t be able to use– except, he didn’t just poof it into your parking space. He drove it, like a dumbass.

He clicks his tongue. Be cool. “I had a talk with the guy who stole it. He won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

“Oh my god– you killed him?”

Not that cool. “No! No, I– I would nev–” you’re a demon– “I would seriously consider the consequences–”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Hey, I got you the car back. Without killing! Even though it took so so so much impulse control, please clap.” He tilts his head and grins at you. He figures he probably looks insane with his glowing eyes and cheshire cat smile.

You nod and take a calculated step forward. You point at the open wine bottle on your kitchen counter. “I’m getting a drink.”

He shrugs. “You own the place.”

“No, I don’t,” you scoff, approaching him. The scent of smoke grows stronger with each step, until you’re engulfed in it. “I pay rent up the ass because I can’t afford any place else.”

Eddie watches you pour a glass of wine with the interest of a collector looking at a piece of fine art. “What would you prefer?”

The air hangs thick with implication. What do you want me to do? Eddie holds the edge of the counter with his ringed fingers, watching your brow screw up in contemplation. He wants to reach forward and smooth it over with his thumb, get rid of any worries you might have.

He’s a sorry son of a bitch, is what he is.

“What I want–” you stop, your eyes falling to his hand. You stare at it for a long time. Hard knuckles that you’re sure have drawn blood, clunky rings like weapons. You wonder why he keeps them there indefinitely, why he chooses those accessories, keeps this form. He’s intimidating, dangerous-looking, and yet you feel a weird sort of comfort around him.

He’s the most dangerous thing in any room, and he’s asking what you want.

You look up into the demon’s smoldering eyes, and take a breath. “What I need is to not take home pocket change, because my shithead manager won’t stop skimming my tips. Y’know I trained the fucker?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Piece of shit won’t stop giving me crap work just because he can, and I’m– I’m–”

Eddie wordlessly nudges the wine glass towards you with the tip of his finger. You grab it and take a long gulp.

You sort of stutter and cough, trying to catch your breath when your tears of exhaustion keep wanting to spill. You’re furious. You’re so fucking angry that it’s vibrating in your bones, threatening to wither and crack them under its force. You start breathing in heavy, short bursts of air that don’t do much to calm you down at all.

“I’m barely making enough to cover my rent even with my tips,” you continue. “But now he’s stealing them and I’m having to skip breakfast to save food and I can’t find another job because the people in this town fucking hate me–”

A warm hand settles onto your back, heavy between your shoulder blades. A little bit of the tension in your shoulders melts and releases, but along with it comes the tears you were holding back. You shiver, leaning further into his touch as though it’ll ground you. Your sinuses are sore and your eyes sting as hot tears slide down your cheeks, but you let Eddie hold you up.

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” Eddie smirks when you cough out a little laugh that sounds more like a hiccup, but he’ll take it. “What? I’m so fucking serious. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you anymore. What kind of a demon daddy would I be if I did?”

“Shut up.” You bat his chest with the back of your hand. He chuckles, and the sound is as warm and soothing as his hand on your back. Your lip wobbles, your brow screwing up as you try to even out your voice, but you just come out sounding like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. “What are you, a genie with three wishes? I tell you my sorrows and you snap your fingers and fix it?”

“You get a lot more than three with me, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. His eyes are unwavering, his hand stroking lightly back and forth between your shoulders in a way that has you hypnotized, leaning towards him. “And it may take more than just snapping my fingers, but yes. I’ll do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married, baby.” He holds your gaze gently, hoping not to upset you any further. “‘Til death do we part,’ right? We’re a team now. Your needs, my needs. That’s why you signed the contract. That’s why I gave you this.” Eddie’s warm hand ghosts over your wrist, and the mark that bears his name seared into your skin. The mark tingles, itching with recognition at his touch. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

You’re still crying. Big, glossy tears falling down your cheeks, making him falter. He’s floundering. He doesn’t know how to make them stop, and the more he tries to get you to tell him, the harder they’re falling. You aren’t hyperventilating anymore, thank fuck, but you’re still quietly sobbing, and you’re not telling him what he needs to know.

Eddie tries searching for it. Squints at you, tries reaching into your mind to find what you need– sort of the same way that he saw the memory of you and the fucker who stole your car. All he gets is one repetitive thought, spinning around in the forefront of your mind.

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.

“C’mere,” he tells you softly. Eddie reaches forward, turning you slowly by the shoulder until you’re facing him. He watches your face for any kind of disgust– there’s nothing, save the big tears that keep falling.

He pulls on your shoulder, just barely, and you crumple. You face plant into his chest and take a deep, shuddering breath that rattles in your lungs and tastes like a campfire. Eddie is warm as a space heater and his arms are strong, wrapped around you tightly to keep you from falling.

Eddie holds you until he feels you stop crying. He thinks. Maybe you’re still crying, but it isn’t shaking your entire body anymore, and he feels like that’s a move in the right direction.

“Just say the word,” he speaks into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. A timid hand comes up to pet the back of your head. He hasn’t held someone like this in ages. “I can try to read your mind, but then I get the wrong idea, and you won’t like what I’ll do. I’m willing to do anything for you, honest. But y’gotta tell me, baby.”

You hesitate, and then you pull back, puckering your lips in a way that distracts him. He fixates on them, tilting his head as he watches the way they move. Remembering how they felt on his own when he kissed you last night. He hasn’t kissed someone in ages, either.

“No killing Colin,” you conclude, knocking him out of his reverie. He groans. “I’m serious! He’s a dick, but I don’t want that on my conscience. Please, Eddie.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, pouting and stomping his feet. “But you wouldn’t feel that way if you saw the kind of torture we can whip out in ye olde Hell. Make your skin crawl right the fuck off. Ooh! That’s actually a good idea–”

“Maybe, sometime.” You shake your head. “But not now. Just… get him to quit. Or something. Okay?”

Your hand presses into Eddie’s chest. It feels like a blast straight into his infernal heart. His eyes fall to it, taking in the willing touch that you give him and letting it define his entire being for a second.

Oh, he’s in trouble. He’s really, really done for.

“Okay, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His kiss is a ghost of a touch on your cheek, just barely a whisper of skin on skin. Just enough to make you gasp and nearly turn your head, to lock his lips with yours. You practically fight the urge to do it. Your heartbeat kicks up– not for the reason you think it should, either. You aren’t scared. He doesn’t make you nervous– at least, not in an uncomfortable way.

You want Eddie to press his lips to yours, and you want him to hold you again. You want him to stay indefinitely. Make a home on your couch and hold you in his lap all night. You think that if you asked him, he might do it. Anything you want, right?

But he pushes away from the kitchen counter, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, in a rush of air carrying his scent. With a sigh, you sink back on your heels, finding yourself wishing that his arms were still there around you, to catch you before you fall.

You lift your glass of wine to your lips. The imprint of his name still itches on your wrist.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #tdik!fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie munson #demon!eddie #roses*

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magics-neptunes-things · 11 months ago

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Part Of Me

Alexia please come back, the kids and I miss you 💔

No request for this one, only from my imagination. Enjoy!

TW : Mention of abusive relation, a little of angst I guess

______________________________________________________________

Since joining FC Barcelona a few months ago, you have become the biggest plot for your teammates. Before signing in Barcelona, you were under contract with PSG but you had not set foot on the football fields since months because of an injury. Your signing with the Barcelona club surprised a lot of people since you had not proven yourself for a long time, your absence falling at the worst time, just before the eventual renewal of your contract in the French capital.

But it's now in Barcelona that you evolve and your discretion foolproof intrigues your teammates a lot. You are almost never present at organized parties and if you didn't arrive late at regular intervals, you would probably be almost transparent. Not in the field that said and fortunately. Since you're goalkeeper and a turn is made between the other goalkeepers and you, you don't participate in all the matches and you are not called every week. This undoubtedly adds to the shadow that characterizes you.

Alexia cannot tell if it's this part of the mystery that draws her gaze irremediably on you. But still, she regularly surprises herself by letting her eyes slide on you during training, something that Mapi hasn't missed. She doesn’t hesitate to tease her best friend on the subject, Alexia standing up to her every time by telling her that it’s just that she's intrigued by the shadows around you.

It's the truth, but but there is more. When you aren't officially summoned to the matches, you nevertheless attend them in the stands. This is where you exchanged your first words with Alexia, first turned on football before the conversations became lighter. You’ve noticed that Alexia sometimes tries to learn more about your private life, but you’ve always managed to avoid her questions.

********

"Sorry, sorry, I’m late" you apologize to Jonatan, coming running into the weight room, jumping on one leg to put on your second shoes.

Mapi bows an eyebrow towards Alexia who shrugs her shoulders, when your coach apologizes you with a vague wave of the hand before asking you to join Ona to be her training partner. She greets you with a little smile and Alexia can hear her ask you if everything is okay. You answer her with a positive smile, before focusing on the requested exercises.

"It’s so weird. No one ever scolds her" mumbles Mapi towards Alexia. "When I'm late I have to run at least five laps."

Alexia shrugs her shoulders without answering, turning her gaze on Mapi when she elbows her.

"Stop staring at her for two seconds, everyone will catch you"

"Leave her alone, Maria" Ingrid scolds her, triggering a little cute argument between the two.

Alexia takes advantage of the exchange between the two women to shift her attention back to you. You look tired this morning and she wonders what made your night complicated. Do you suffer from insomnia? She doesn’t know anything about your life, doesn’t know if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.

"Did you offer to come tonight?" Ingrid asks Alexia nicely.

"She received the message about the Whatsapp group like everyone else, but I don’t think she replied"

"Go ask her directly. Maybe she’s just shy?"

Alexia bites her lip as she hears Ingrid’s attempt to guess your behavior. It’s true that if we compare you to Mapi or Lucy, you are rather the opposite of them in terms of character. Alexia herself doesn't participate in parties when it involves going to a nightclub, but comes willingly when it comes to film evenings organized at someone's house.

"I can try" ended up answering Alexia thoughtfully, her eyes on you again.

As usual at the end of the training, you are the first to be dressed and ready to go. You are always polite and smiling with everyone, but you give the constant impression of having hundreds of things to do outside of games and practice.

But Alexia beat you in speed this time and she catches you when you walk along the corridors to return to your car.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You turn to her and smile at her when she arrives at your height, giving her an interrogative look.

"I was wondering if you were coming to Aitana’s tonight? You didn’t answer in the groupchat."

"Oh… no, I don’t think I can, I'm sorry"

You feel a little guilty about saying no, but you don’t really have a choice. Your regrets are sincere and it seems to have caught Alexia’s attention. The blonde bites her lip when she resumes speaking, playing nervously with her bracelet.

"It’s sad. I just… I mean, I’d really like you to come."

This surprises you and you look at her for a few seconds as you continue to walk, wondering if she's mocking you. But no, she seems sincere and you even find yourself blushing a little.

"I’ll see what I can do to free myself if that can makes you happy" you end up answering in a low voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah"

You are surprised by the big smile that appears on your captain’s face, but it's nothing compared to the one you feel when she approaches you to put a kiss on your cheek. Alexia turns her heels and in a whirlwind of blonde hair, she disappeared.

"So?" Mapi asks Alexia when she drops by her side, back in the locker room, putting her head in her hands.

"It’s a disaster. She’s gonna think I’m the weirdest person in the world."

"What are you other than that anyway?" snorts Mapi, before receiving a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

********

When you arrive in front of Aitana, you find yourself hesitating before pressing the bell. You have never participated in this kind of party and even if everyone is very nice to you, you don't know if you will feel comfortable with them outside the field.

"Can’t find the doorbell?"

Lucy’s amused voice sounds behind you and you turn to see her arrive in the company of Ona. You find yourself mumbling some excuse, but you are quickly diverted from what you want to answer by the quick embrace that the English offers you before ringing. You also greet Ona and finally you are happy not to arrive alone.

Aitana comes to open you shortly after and greets you in turn with an embrace to each. A big smile spreads on her face when she sees you and you find yourself having the right to a full visit of her home. This allows you to see those who are already present and until you enter the living room, you feel a slight disappointment not to see Alexia. But the blonde is installed on the sofa in the living room, next to Irene, when you get there.

Your eyes cross quickly and you respond timidly to her smile before answering Aitana that you want to drink anything as long as it's not alcoholic. Your Fanta in hand, you return to the living room without really knowing where to sit. But you don't hesitate long since you suddenly find yourself facing Alexia, also a drink in the hand.

"It’s great that you could come" smiled Alexia looking at you

You nod, not being able to stop yourself from realizing that Alexia is as beautiful off the field as in her football kit. Her blonde hair falls out of cascade around her face and her dress look is particularly attractive to your taste.

"I wouldn't have wished to grieve my Captain" you answer with a slight smile.

Alexia doesn't answer and an emotion that you cannot describe passes through her eyes, before she continues on another topic of conversation. Some of your teammates will come to mingle with you, Cata and Sandra in particular, as you train together as goalkeepers, but you will mainly spend your early evening with Alexia. The rest too, since you find yourself sitting next to her when the film you have gathered for begins. Usually, you don’t allow yourself to think about any attraction that you might have for someone else, but you have to admit that if you have to put someone at the top of the list, it would be Alexia. You find yourself struggling with sensations that you shouldn’t feel when her knee grazes yours, making you feel like a teenager experiencing her first crush. At the end of the film, you get up to join Aitana in her kitchen, embarking on the passage of dirty dishes to facilitate her task. "I’m sorry, but I have to go" you announce with a slight smile. You don’t like the idea of leaving first, but you don’t really have a choice. "Don’t worry, it’s good that you could come. It’s a pleasure to have you with us" she assures you before offering you an embrace. "Are you leaving already?" Alexia’s voice resounds behind you and you turn in her direction, to explain to her too that you have no choice. "For once it's not you who leaves first" Aitana laughs in the direction of Alexia. The Spanish woman smiles and puts dishes in Aitana’s sink before resuming speaking. "I’ll leave too. I have an interview tomorrow before practice." With that, you find yourself saying goodbye to your teammates at the same time and leaving Aitana’s home together. When you find yourself outside, you offer a hug to Alexia to say goodbye, finding you troubled by her smell. You shiver when you feel her stroking your back and you suddenly realize the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, her hair that pleasantly caresses your face. And more intimately her chest against yours.

"It was nice to spend time with you outside the stadium" says Alexia.

Her mouth is right next to your ear since she still hasn’t released you. You quickly detach from her, feeling how disturbed you are by her closeness. But Alexia doesn’t release you completely, as if she wanted to enjoy this embrace a little longer. Your faces are only a few inches apart when your eyes cross and you wonder how you could never get lost in her honey-hazelnut eyes before that.

You don’t know how long your eye exchange lasts or what Alexia can read in yours. What you know is that when she slowly approaches her face from yours, you can’t resist the call of her lips. The kiss is sweet and delicate, Alexia gives you the impression that you are made of glass and ready to break into a thousand pieces. Which is probably the case.

You are breathless when you end the kiss, amazement taking precedence over the rest. Alexia Putellas has just kissed you.

"I.. I have to go" you stutter before you run away to your car.

The implicit rule asking everyone to send a message about the group when they come back, you simply send a "Home!" when you are, but you hurry to ignore your phone after that.

********

"It’s been three days and she never came back to training"

Sitting at the kitchen table of Mapi and Ingrid, Alexia ruminates her mixture of despair and questioning. She doesn't understand why you reacted in this way to your kiss, especially since you answered it and even extended it. She doesn't understand your disappearance after that and how you can be so traumatized that you simply decided to skip training.

Thanks to her title of captain, Alexia knows that it's officially for illness reasons that you didn't put a finger in the Barcelona stadium. But she can’t believe it.

Alexia is seated facing Mapi in front of a cup of coffee that she has not touched while Ingrid prepares a meal for them to regain strength after their training. The couple take Alexia here, touched by her distress.

"Maybe you're a very bad kisser?" laughs at Mapi, before abruptly shutting up when she receives a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.

"Stop doing that!" whines Mapi.

"Stop teasing your bestfriend!" answers back Ingrid

"Do you think so?" asked Alexia, ignoring their little fight, turning her head sharply towards the tattooed woman.

"Of course not, I'm sure it has nothing to do with it" intervenes Ingrid by raising rolling her eyes.

"How can you know that?" Mapi sulks, crossing her arms on her chest.

"I should never have kissed her" sighs Alexia before letting her forehead go against the wooden table in an alarming thud.

Mapi rolls her eyes in front of her best friend’s despair as Ingrid puts three plates on the table.

"What is done is done, you cannot change anything. On the other hand you can move your ass a little to make things better" replies the blonde, grabbing her cutlery.

"What do you mean?"

Alexia’s curious gaze rises on her best friend, but it is once again Ingrid who answers, the other blonde now having her mouth full of food.

"Go to her. You don’t need an excuse, just tell her the truth. That you’re worried about her."

Mapi simply agrees with Ingrid’s proposal and points to the Norwegian with her fork, nodding harshly. Basically, Ingrid isn't wrong, at least that’s what Alexia says when she looks out the window. "It’s still strange this behavior, to want to go home as soon as she finished training or matches." Alexia sighs thoughtfully before widening her eyes. "What if she’s married? You think I kissed a married woman?" "Oh god" sighs Ingrid as Mapi stands up on her chair abruptly. "Imagine she’s married to someone abusive? That would explain why she has so little freedom." "Okay, stop now" Ingrid intervenes again. "Alexia eats and goes to see her. And you, shut up" Mapi groans and shifts her attention to her plate, but nevertheless obeys quickly. Alexia also grabs her fork, thoughtfully thanking the brunette for her cooking. A few hours later, Alexia finds herself in front of an apartment on the ground floor of a residential area, where you live. It’s a bit out of town, but that doesn’t surprise her. In her opinion, it fits well with the discretion that characterizes you. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Alexia finally presses the doorbell button. It takes you a few minutes to answer, your surprise displayed on your face when you find yourself facing Alexia. You don't open the door entirely, sliding only your face by the interscice, which once again intrigues the blonde. She runs through your face with her eyes and it's true that you look tired. You have dark circles, drawn lines and your hair is styled in a messy bun. "Ale?" "Sorry to barge in like this without warning but uh... can we talk?"

You bite your lip while looking at her, apparently hesitating how you will answer her. This again makes Alexia mad with worry. What if Mapi was right? But you end up nodding, before going out the apartment after taking a look inside and gently closing the door behind you. It wasn’t what Alexia expected.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"

Alexia talks nervously, realizing that you will not speak first.

"Oh… yes, I'm okay. I mean… the disease, all that" you mumble and shrug.

La Reina remains silent for long seconds, so long that you end up looking up at her face. You see her looking at you attentively and you find yourself foolishly blushing. The memory of your kiss has stuck in your head all these days and you have to use all your concentration capacity not to look at her lips.

"Listen Y/N, if your absence is related to what happened at the end of the evening…"

"Oh… no, I… it’s nothing to do with that, I promise"

You find yourself stuttering again and you hate yourself for it. If you wanted to give Alexia a good impression, you can hardly do worse.

"So what is it? To be honest, I can’t believe you’re sick. If something happens or you need help, you know we’re here for you? The others and myself, too"

You find it hard to support her gaze and you find yourself looking over her shoulder again. Without knowing what to say.

"Y/N"

The way she says your name in a mixture of tenderness and affection would have been enough to give you chills, but the fact that she touches your cheek with her fingers supports the sensation. That works though, your eyes quickly turning over on her face. But you step back, remembering that you can’t let go with her that way.

Which is terribly frustrating. Alexia seems to think the same, her eyes letting pass a burst of disappointment or rejection before she recovers. "I can’t. Not yet." You speak as well of any rapprochement with her as of a confession on your part. But Mapi’s assumption quickly comes back to Alexia’s mind and she gently takes your arm in her hand. "Is someone hurting you?" The surprise that appears on your face is so sincere that Alexia quickly understands that they have gone wrong. But it’s a relief and it’s comforting a few seconds before the frustration comes back. What would stop you from confiding in her if it wasn’t that? "No one is hurting me" you answer softly, though touched by Alexia’s level of worry. "It’s just that I don’t think I’m fit to get into a relationship right now, Ale. It wouldn’t be interesting for you for one second, much more annoying and constraining than anything else." "You can’t or you don't want to?" Alexia asks, almost ignoring what you just said. The answer you’re going to give Alexia will probably change a lot what she’s going to tell you in return, you know it perfectly. You could lie to her, but when you find yourself once again immersed in hwe eyes, you are incapable. Sighing slowly, you decide to tell her the truth. "I can’t." Obviously, this is the answer Alexia was hoping for, you realize it quickly when she steps in your direction. As delicately as before, her fingers stroke your face and you briefly close your eyes to reopen them when you feel her forehead leaning against yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’m sure you’re worth it." When you shake your head in a negative way, it doesn’t seem to impress her. "Let me decide?" adds Alexia.

The seconds that pass while your brain turns a thousand an hour are torture for Alexia, but for you too. You know perfectly well that Alexia will leave when she understands. But the blonde adds a "Please" begging and you can no longer stand up to her.

So you finally accept, gently opening the door of your apartment to invite Alexia to enter. From your point of view, your apartment isn't exceptional, but you surprise the captain to look around in an intriguing way. However, this is not where she will understand what keeps you in many things in your life.

Without really thinking about your gesture, you take her hand to take her upstairs and open the door of a room. And the least we can say is that Alexia didn't expect that to be in front of her.

A children’s room in beige and sky blue colors in which there is the complete necessary for a baby. A changing table, a wardrobe, pictures of animals and a cradle with a mobile installed above. The cradle is occupied, Alexia realizes it quickly. She looks at you to ask your permission to approach and you smile at her to confirm that she can do so.

You will never forget the first time Alexia laid eyes on your son. A mixture of wonder and tenderness that takes your breath away. Deeply asleep in his bed, unlike the previous three nights, his stuffed rabbit tight against his face and thumb in the mouth, your baby seems particularly relaxed. Alexia spends long seconds looking at him before shifting her attention to you.

For your part, you didn't leave her sight for a single second, regretting not being able to read her thoughts. You signal her to follow you outside the room with a nod and Alexia obeys without being asked.

Back in the living room, you feel like you’re hearing her brain scrambling.

"I guess you have questions?"

Alexia sat in front of you on one of your sofas and looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments. Her fingers mechanically caress her lower lip, which you’ve noticed she does when what she thinks is intense.

"You have a child"

"Yes"

"And you’re married?"

You’re just shaking your head negatively this time.

"In a relationship?"

"Nope"

"I don't understand"

You sigh softly and let yourself go against the back of the sofa on which you were installed on the edge so that you can better observe Alexia. The situation is complicated and that’s partly why you didn’t tell anyone.

"His father left as soon as he learned of the pregnancy. It was not planned at all and my former club agreed to mask my pregnancy with an injury. My contract was coming to an end and it was the deal we made. I was thinking about quitting my career after giving birth, but Barcelona contacted me to offer me a contract before the summer. I refused without explaining why and they insisted" you explain, slightly frowned. You still don’t understand their interest. "So I finally told them the truth. The leaders and Jonatan are aware and they offered to help me rather than give up"

Alexia remains silent throughout your explanation but a small smile is drawn and accentuated as your story. You deduce that it's because of the behavior of her club who is in line with her own personal values, until she resumes speaking.

"Well thanks for sharing this with me, but that’s not what I don’t understand" she said without masking her amusement, before getting up to sit next to you. You follow her with your eyes, in turn a little lost. "What I don’t understand is why you think the fact that you have a child would stop me from being interested in you"

So this one, you didn't expect it. You remain frozen on your sofa, blinking at her.

"Well… I barely have time to come train with you, I can never join you for evenings… How could I have time for you?"

"Is it now that I remind you that I am the most homebody of the team and that I am called Grandma because I go to bed early?"

You smile softly as you hear her answer punctuated by a touch of humor. Her amused smile increases your own fun and you feel a heat wave spread throughout your body as she mixes her fingers with yours.

"What’s his name?"

"Romeo" you answer

"It's cute" she smiles before resuming speaking. "But I'm sure we can make it work. I don't mind if our dates are in your house and I can still pass time with you when your son is here... If you're ok with that of course"

When she sees you bite your lips, Alexia take both of your hand in hers, searching for your eyes.

"I really like you and I don't think that your son will make things complicated. I can't wait to meet him. I'm serious with it, if you let me in, I won't let you down. Never."

"Just kiss me again."

Alexia looks shocked for two seconds, before leaning in and obliged. People always talk about the first kiss, the sensations it gives. But you find that the second one is underestimated too much. That of the confirmation. The second kiss Alexia offers you is as tender and delicate as the first, without the fear of being pushed back. Which you obviously don’t do this time, even shyly sliding a hand on his neck to prolong your exchange.

This lasts a few minutes, before baby crying sounds upstairs, interrupting your moment.

"I hope you’re ready, because it’s only the beginning" you smile maliciously against his lips.

********

alexiaputellas

liked by ingrid_engen, yourinstagram, ona.batlle, marialeonn16 and 260 202 others people.

alexiaputellas We fell in love in October 🤍🎶

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YourInstagram ❤️

irene.paredes amo a ambos

fan1 Who's hand is it? ↳ fan3 it's me don't worry ↳ fan5 I feel like it's Y/N, they seems really close in the lasts after games ↳ fan6 she put an heart in the comment section too ↳ fan7 So is Mapi ↳ fan5 Mapi is with Ingrid, don't be stupid ↳ marialeonn16 Yeah, don't be stupid

fan2 I thought she was single?!

fan4 Alexia you naughty secret girl

yourinstagram

liked by alexiaputellas, lucybronze, janafernandez, __cata13 and 250 197 others people.

yourinstagram You look so pretty and I love this view 🎶❤️

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marialeonn16 please send thanks to your photographer ↳ alexiaputellas muchas gracias Mapi ↳ fan1 OMG WAIT WHAT ↳ fan3 I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU FDKSFHJAFKJAL

alexiaputellas 🤍🤍🤍

fan4 Not Y/N and Alexia breaking the Internet

ona.batlle ❤️

yourinstagram and alexiaputellas

liked by alexiaputellas, albaputellas, ona.batlle, irene.paredes, ingrid_engen, __cata13 and 590 154 others people.

yourinstagram The loves of my life 💙❤️

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alexiaputellas te amo mucho 🥹🤍 liked by you

ingrid_engen 🫶❤️

elialexiaalba mis corazones

alexiaputellas

liked by yourinstagram, claudia.pina, ona.batlle, marialeonn16, lucybronze, __cata13 and 473 154 others people.

alexiaputellas Ready to watch Mami and Mama tonight ⚽👀

yourinstagram 💙❤️

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jenni.hermoso he's growing up so fast 😭

marialeonn16 remember me to offer him a Maria Leon jersey for his birthday ↳ alexiaputellas He won't wear it ↳ marialeonn16 of course he will, I'm her favorite ↳ lucybronze We all know that it's Ingrid

______________________________________________________________

For real it was in my draft for so long because I wasn't able to find a name for this baby 😭

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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sarawritestories · 9 months ago

Text

Unwavering Presence Chapter 7

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Rhys and Reader get into an argument that leads to a moment Under the mountain that Y/N would rather forget. And when things don't go as planned at the prison, Y/N must confront her sister after learning just how much Feyre was suffering.

Content Warnings: our FMC being put on a leash (Literally), mentions of abuse potential abuse to children (there is none! just the idea is brought up) , mentions of suicidal ideation, Nightmares, angst

Word Count: 6.5K

Masterlist Chapter 6

Unwavering Masterlist

After finishing the awkward dinner, I made my way to my room and changed out of my dress and put on my silk pajamas sighing at the comfort. Cassian had walked me to my room in silence though his pinky was still entwined in mine and when he dropped me off, he murmured a good night and kissed my hand before heading to bed. His lips against my skin, caused heat to rise in my cheeks and I found myself quickly hiding in my room trying to settle the butterflies in my stomach.

I walked over to my desk and grabbed my journal from my cloak pocket, ever since Cassian bought it, it has been on my person I never leave it. I took a seat and was about ready to write when there was a knock on my door, “Come in.” Rhys walked in.

He leaned against the door, crossing his arms and his ankles leaning against the dark ornate wood. “Did you have to be so hard on her?”

I closed my notebook and let my fingers graze the leather the indents of the ivy engraved in the leather, and finally meeting is eyes, “She’s acting like a child.” She crossed her arms, “She was also extremely rude, and you and your family didn’t deserve that.”

Rhys smirked, and tilted his head, “You know we have been around a long time we can handle ourselves.”

I shrugged and crossed my legs on the bench. “Just because you can doesn’t mean that a friend can’t come to your defense.” I bit my lip, “Even when she feels guilty of her previous behavior to you and is super apologetic.”

Rhys crinkled his nose and made his face so youthful, something I noticed I didn’t see much under the mountain, and I giggled, and confusion fell over the high lord’s features, “What?”

My giggles softened and I gave him a smile, “I enjoy seeing you outside Amarantha.” I could see him physically restrain himself from wincing at her name, but I continued as I stood and made my way to him, “You look so free. Youthful even.”

Rhys smiled, “Well aren’t you sweet,” He opened his arm and I slid into his side as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders pulling me close. “Feyre and I are heading to the prison tomorrow.” I must have had a confused look on my face because he continued, “The prison is where we keep some of the most ancient and vile fae and magical beings. Under a mountain at the edge of Night Court border.”

I meet his violet eyes, “Rhysand, you’re taking her under another mountain.” His lips were a tight line. “What is in there that is so important?”

Rhys remained silent for a moment, “I wouldn’t ask her if I didn’t think the answer, we could find there were important.” Rhys eyes hardened, “The information wouldn’t tip the scales in our favor for the impending war.”

I scooted out of his grasp and his gaze softened. “Why Feyre?”

“The inmate we would be seeing won’t talk to me, but will talk to Feyre Cursebreaker, that I have no doubt about.”

I Internally cringed at the title, tampering that unprecedented jealousy, the title proved she was important in Prythian’s history. Further proved that I was not. Clearing my throat I asked, “She’s okay with it?”

He nodded, “You are an important part of our history too you know?”

I stood up and turned my back to him checking and grumbled, “Get out of my head, High Lord.”

“Your shields are solid, Angel, you wear your heart on your sleeve.” I turned and scowled at him which only caused him to chuckle, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Feyre may have broken the curse, but no one in that ballroom will easily forget about the human girl who stood in front of those two Fae children and took their punishment for them.”

My heart stopped as the sound of fabric ripping echoed the cavern hall. Amarantha with lethal calm turned to see two small fae girls frozen in place with fear. Their hands clasped together. Terror exploded on their features. Amarantha’s smile was sinister, as she steps down from the dais, “What did you two do?” My gaze drifts to my sister who is on Rhysand’s lap head laying on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as her eyes drift close, probably the effects of the fae wine taking hold of her as Rhysand sipped from his own cup. He had since given up forcing me to drink it after I spit it out on his shoes. Though Feyre doesn’t remember

Turning back to the young girls as Amarantha was waiting for them to answer the two simply trembled in response a puddle was forming under one of them and my heart broke. The longer the two girls remained silent the irater Amarantha became “You two ingrates ruined my dress! You should haven’t been that close to royalty. Clearly your useless parents didn’t teach you respect. So, allow me.”

Her hand raised up and my feet moved before I could think about what I was doing and suddenly I pulled the girls behind me before Amarantha’s hand collided with my cheek. The girls screamed but I turned to them, “It’s okay. Go find your mother. Wipe your tears and hold your head high.” The girls both did and lifted their chin as they briskly walked to their mother, and I turned to the seething fae female before me.

“You had no right-“

I interrupted her my chin high, “They are children. What they did was an accident. If a punishment must be implemented, I will take it in their place.”

Amarantha eyes flared her stare made me shift the sheer red fabric that shifts to orange at the bottom covering very little of my body moved with my fidgeting. Her eyes then moved to find those two girls, she found them cowering in the arms of their mother, “The cauldron has blessed you both. You should be grateful.” She takes a step forward and her finger touches one end of my collar bone and slides to the other side smearing the paint Rhys’ wraiths painted on me. “Y/N Archeron, twin sister of Feyre.” She circles me like predator waiting for the kill. She stands behind me, her nail grazing the fabric on my shoulder, I fought off a shutter as she faced me again, “You’re a pretty little thing, for human filth. Bold too. Interrupting me not only during my punishment but as I was speaking too.” She tsks as the hand that provided false gentleness collided with my cheek once more her nails scraping skin. She gripped my chin and forced me to look at her, “A foolish human girl, who risked her life for two fae children. What a silly thing to do.”

“Children human or otherwise-“

Faster than a blink a piece of Amarantha’s dress was torn from the dress and shoved into my mouth she worked on getting another stripped around my wrist. “I grow tired of you speaking, girl.” She cinches the fabric against my wrist tightly causing me to shriek in pain. She turned me to face her again and she smiled, “Much better. "Now the question is, what to do for your punishment?”

I tested my binds, and she pressed me to your back. “Hmm I think your punishment will be someone else’s reward.” She looked out into the crowd and I allowed myself to look at Rhysand and my sister. The High Lord’s face revealed nothing but there was a prickle in my mind and his voice filtered in my head,

Breathe. I’m sorry Y/N, I cannot help you.

In the hopes he could hear me, those girls didn’t deserve to see the cruelties of this world just yet. Try to keep their innocence.

To my surprised he gave a curt nod before he drank the rest of his wine and Amarantha’s voice bellowed through the hall, “Eris Vanserra, please step forward.”

I looked out for Lucien and saw his face frown as his eldest brother stepped forward. The male was handsome his tan skin and gold eyes were warm but hardened. Amarantha pushed me forward and I whimpered muffled through the gag as she forced me to my knees, and she gripped the back of my head pressing down until my forehead hit the floor. “Stay there, Pet. Until he tells you otherwise, “her slim hands left my body as she spoke to the eldest brother, “You have done exceptional work, and it has not gone unnoticed. There was a long pause, “As a treat, one of the Archeron twins to use however, you please. You can deposit her in her cell in the morning.”

“Thank you, My Queen. Your gift is beyond gracious. I am truly humbled.” My heartrate spiked, and I tried to shift pain racking in my knees.

Breathe. Through your nose. Rhys’ voice instructed and I followed his instruction.

A calloused hand hoisted me up to my feet and I looked up to find Eris smirking at me. “I don’t think the gag is necessary don’t you.” I nodded, “Open, Love.” I opened my mouth, and he removed the fabric from my mouth. I coughed, and he tipped my chin up to face him, and he gave me a cold smile as his toned arm wrapped around my waist, undoing the binds, “I don’t think you need this either. and pulled me close, his breath warm on my ear. The smell of an autumn day filled my nostrils. He whispered low enough that no one could hear, "Y/N Archeron, let’s give them a good performance. Keep your face neutral and do everything I say."

He gripped me tightly, and a gasp escaped my lips as my chest was flushed to his, his lips kissed my ear, “We must make it believable, Love. Say ‘Yes Master’ if you understand.”

“Yes Master.”

He growled in my ear his hand gripped my skin tightly, “Good Girl,” He slapped the bare area of my ass causing me to yelp. He waves his hand and flames circled around my neck, the end of the flame in Eris hands. “Let us do a lap, pet and then we go to bed.” He yanked my leash pulling me closer to him, “Let’s start with thanking the High Lord of the Night Court for dressing you in Autumn Colors.” He looked at me expectantly.

I take in a deep breath, “Yes Master.”

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, “Good Girl.”

Rhysand snapped his finger in my face. Worry written on his features stars were banked out. “What did he do to you, Angel?”

I feign ignorance, “Who?”

Rhys gave me a knowing look, “You know who. Don’t play dumb.”

I rolled my eyes, “Nothing happened worth talking about.”

Rhys growled anger morphing into his face, “I saw his intentions, If he touch-“

I rubbed my temples and groaned, “Fuck No.” I looked at him anger boiling, “I don’t talk about it because he asked me not to.”

Rhys blinked taken aback, “Why protect him?” he crossed his arms.

I gritted my teeth, “Stop pushing.” I walked over to my door and opened it, “Take care of my sister tomorrow. Good night.”

Rhys sighs as he stood and walked over to me. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying you were just as brave and just as much a victim there as Feyre. Talking about it could be helpful.”

I gave him a hard stare, “I know, Rhys. I appreciate you keeping that door open. I do. You don’t know what happened that night. But trust me when I say that nothing happened that night that I mean it.”

Rhys clenched his fist, “Eris is a monster.”

I bite my lip, “Well, people could and have said the same about you. Yet I trusted you. Good night, Rhysand.” I slammed the door before he could get another word in and locked the door.

I couldn’t sleep that night; I kept tossing and turning. Flashes of Under the Mountain and Amarantha, The wyrm, and those girls, forcing their way into my dreams that I began to sweat. I pulled off my covers and wandered to the family library.

I rubbed my eyes as I walked in and found Cassian sitting in the chair, a glass in his hand staring at the fire. He was wearing black silk lounge pants and a lounge shirt that hugged his taught muscles his wings relaxed but sprawled slightly, his ebony locks up in a bun. I tried to back away before he could catch me, “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” I sighed as his warm eyes met mine, he patted the chair next to him, “Come on, Princess, talk to me.”

I dragged my feet over there and plopped on a chair, “Rhys and I got into an argument.”

Cassian nodded and handed me a glass. I took it and tried to ignore the feeling in my chest when our fingers touched. “Want to talk about it?”

I took a sip letting the burn of alcohol ease down my throat and looked at the fire. “Something that happened when we were Under the Mountain. I don’t want to go into details. He just assumes one thing happened and when it didn’t.”

His hummed, “Would it be about what happened when you saved those girls?”

I turned my head to him, “You know about that?”

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Sweetheart, a human girl put her life on the line to save to fae children from getting harmed. Rhys may have told me when he got home, because he had never met anyone, a human no less, defend a child while being under there. But when the curse was lifted, everyone brought up about your bravery.”

I bit my lip, “It was an accident they didn’t deserve whatever cruel punishment Amarantha was going to endure. Anyone would have done that.”

Calloused fingers moved my face to meet his eyes slight ire there, “No, Princess, they wouldn’t. They should but they wouldn’t. Especially if that meant you were Eris’ pet for the evening.”

I groaned pulling away from his touch and taking my drink, slamming the rest of the contents in my mouth. “Not you too.”

“He’s dangerous from what Rhys said he had you in a collar on a leash.”

I gritted my teeth, “Drop it, Cassian.”

He sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time he did something heinous, have you talked to Mor about this?”

“No and I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should than you would understand Rhys’ concern-“

I stood up, slamming the glass on the table, “He took me to his room, gave me his jacket to wear, and let me sleep on his bed while he slept in the chair. Is that what you want to hear? Because that’s what fucking happened, Cassian. He didn’t hurt me; he didn’t touch me past having a hand on my back. He let me have a good night’s rest. That’s. it.”

Cassian blinked, “The collar. The leash made of fire; Rhys said you had burns.”

“Amarantha had expectations, we met them.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not saying he’s perfect or not a piece of shit. I’m saying that on that evening specifically, he didn’t do a damn thing to me.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed and his lips formed a tight line, contemplating. “Fine, so he didn’t hurt you or force you to do anything why not tell Rhys that?”

“Because Eris asked me not to tell anyone what happened that night and I wanted to honor that not because I wanted to protect him but because I owed him. And given the look you’re giving me. I don’t think he would believe me either.” I bowed my head, “Goodnight, General.”

I turned only for a hand to circle my wrist, “I believe you, Princess.” I faced him, he rose from is seat and his face held no trace of humor, his form towering over me. “I believe you, and he would to, but I know there is more you’re not telling me.”

“I am.” I didn’t bother hiding it. “But anything past what I already told you is not my story to tell. I hope you can respect that I won’t share it.”

Cassian nodded, “I understand.”

I took my free hand into his, “Why are you awake?”

Cassian sat back down and smirked, “What keeps anyone from sleeping, Princess?”

I blinked surprised by the question I asked when we first met, “Nightmares...”

I released his hand and noticed he flexed his fingers like he yearned for my touch as I sat on the chair across from him. “Yeah, I don’t get them often, but when I do, they’re…realistic enough to keep me awake.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, his face looked haunted.

“No.” He gave me a small smile, “But thank you for the offer, you should try to go to sleep.”

“You should as well.”

“I’m going to have a hard time falling asleep.” He retorted.

“Me too.”

He chuckled and I stood and held out my hand. “Come on, General.”

Cassian placed his hand in mine and tugged indicating I wanted him up, he stood, his wings rustling. I led him over to the couch and sat patting my lap. “Sweetheart, I would squish you if I sat on your lap.”

“Is it a requirement that to be in this court you have to be a smart ass? I want you to lay your head on my lap, Darling.” His stunned look told me no one has ever given him a pet name before, but he slowly sits and adjusts his wings in a position that is comfortable but won’t hurt me and finally he lays his head down on my lap. His eyes look up to mine and I smile as I pull the tie that is keeping his hair bound.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled, as thoughts from the week before coming to my mind, “I know when I’m not going to win a battle, General.” I wink at him, “I’m compromising.” His eyes twinkle in recognition of my words. He turns his head as I begin running my fingers through his hair he sighs in contentment. “Close your eyes, Cassian.” I watched his lids flutter shut and his breathing deepening as I kept weaving my fingers through his hair and I started to hum a lullaby and in seconds the General was asleep on my lap, and I leaned my head back as the smell of him calmed me and my eyes grew heavy and with my hand through his hair. I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Cassian’s POV

I woke up to the sun illuminating behind my eye lids. Though I realized I’m not in my room but the library. The memory of the night before came back to me. I shifted to find Y/N sleeping, her head leaning against the bookshelf. I gently sat up careful not to disturb her, but she stirred as I moved into a seated position. Her eyes lit up by the morning sky coming in from the window. Even as she woke, she was radiant like a gift from the mother herself. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” She mumbled as she tried to blink away the sleepiness from her eyes.

I smiled, “Yeah, Princess, did you? I’m sorry you fell asleep sitting up.”

She waved me off as she took the hair bind, I used to tie my hair and placed her hair in a bun few strands framing her face. Beautiful. “I have had to sleep in worse conditions than this. I just wanted to make sure you got sleep.” Another yawn from her. I stood up and stretched my sore wings.

I grinned at her, and she gave me a lazy smile back, “Thank you, Princess,” I held out my hand to her, “Let’s get you some breakfast,” she slipped her hand in mine, and it was dwarfed in mine and had tiny callouses from hunting, fighting, and training. I help her up and I go to release her hand, but she keeps a hold of mine as we exit the library and head toward the dining room. “Sweetheart, don’t you want to get dressed?”

“No, I want to eat.” She paused and looked at our hands and let go missing her warmth in my palm in an instant, “I’m sorry if you want to-“

I held my hand up, “Not at all, lead the way, Archeron.”

There was a glint in her eyes and her smile was mischievous, “Last one to the dining room has to do 50 pushups at training today.” Before I can respond to her challenge she bolts. I chuckled and waited about a minute before I chased after her. It only took me a couple of strides to catch up with her and past her, “No!” She huffed as I reached the double doors, opening for me and skidded to a halt barely winded as Y/N got there and placed her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “Stupid fae speed.”

I laughed and ruffled her hair, and she swatted at me, “Maybe next time I will let you win. However, you owe me 50 pushups.” She groaned, and I placed a hand on her back and led her to the chair where food appeared on her chair. Only then acknowledging the short black haired fae who quirked her brow. “Morning, Tiny one.” Amren glared at me, and I grinned, “She challenged me to a race and lost.” I explained.

Amren snorted sipping her goblet, “Girl, if you are going to survive here, you have to pick and choose your battles properly.”

Y/N stabbed my eggs, “I thought I had a chance.”

Before I could counter Rhys and Feyre winnowed in, Feyre stormed out of the dining room ignoring everyone including her sister. I could see the pain in Y/N’s face as she looked over to my brother. “We need to talk, Y/N.” His face was stony, and I could see the light dim in Y/N’s eyes as she shrunk in her seat.

Rhysand walked over to her and held out his arm. Y/N pushed the plate away, not being able to get a bite and making a note to make sure she ate before we trained. She stood and walked past him ignoring his arm and heading out into the hall.

Rhysand.

My brother paused as I sent my thoughts to his mind. What?

Apologize to her, she told me what happened with Eris. He let her sleep and get a good’s night sleep. That’s it.

You believe her?

I growled at him, Yes. As should you. She has never given you a reason not to believe her.

Rhys gave a nod still not facing me as he walked from the room. Before leaving completely he whispered in my mind She might need you in a few minutes.

I looked to Amren to find her looking at me with her scrutinizing gaze. “What?”

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked her as she took another sip of her goblet.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She looked at the door that Rhys and Y/N walked through, “She’s a force even for a mere human. Willing to stand up to her own blood for Fae she doesn’t know well.”

I smiled, “She’s got a warrior’s heart. Someone just needs to remind her that she doesn’t need to take care of everyone else, that she should take care of herself.”

“Hmm someone like the General of the Night Court’s armies?” Amren questioned her red lips quirked up a bit.

I took a bite of my food, ignoring her inquiry, “Mind your business.”

Reader POV

Rhys walked out of the dining room after having a conversation with Cassian and Amren. My mood had quickly shifted with Feyre looking upset and the hard look Rhys gave me after our argument last night. “Follow me.” He led us up to his study, I shut the door behind me and leaned against the door as he sat in the chair behind his desk.

The room had various paintings of maps of not only Prythian but constellations of the night sky, and on a desk flushed against the wall was a model with all the planets. “Please make yourself comfortable.” His voice was formal not teasing like he was the day before. I didn’t move, He looked up and my feelings of his behavior changed must have been apparent on my face as Rhys sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I owe you an apology.” I bit my lip and looked at my feet. “I should have dropped the Eris subject last night when you asked.”

I looked at him a steeliness in my tone, “Yes you should have.” He flinched, I walked toward him and sat across from him holding out my hand. “Let me show you.”

Rhys shook his head, “Y/N you don-“

“Rhys just shut up and do it.” He nodded and took my hand and I let him into my mind and showed him Eris giving me his tunic, him tucking me into bed, and him sitting on the chair, eyes watching me as I fell asleep. I broke off the connection. “I wouldn’t lie, Rhys.”

Rhys nodded, “I know, which is why I want to apologize.” He walked around the desk and knelt in front of me. “I’m sorry for pushing. I’m sorry for not believing you. I will spend so many days being sorry so long as you stop looking at me like I am stranger and just your High Lord and not your friend.”

I gave him a smile and I wrapped my arms around him, “All is forgiven, unless you did something to make Feyre so upset. Then I’m kicking your ass.”

He laughed, but his face grew solemn, “Y/N, she needs you.” My forehead creased, “She never went into the prison today she got scared, that wasn’t her fault, but Y/N, I need you to understand just how not well she’s doing.”

I meet his violet eyes his stars gone, “Show me.”

Rhys gripped the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mind as I let him in and flashes of her throwing up the night before from the nightmares Her screams echoing the halls, Rhys comforting her. He flashes me to the week I hid myself after she accused me of abandoning her and she tells Rhys how nice it would feel to die, and I felt my chest tighten. Rhysand immediately talking her out of that headspace. Her gaunt haunted face through Rhysand’s eyes.

His claws released my mind, but Rhys held me close as tears and panic rose through me. “Y/N, it’s not your fault.”

“She wants to die. How did I not feel that? How did I miss it? I’m a terrible sister.” My voice barely above a whisper as the images whirl around my brain a never ending loop of Feyre’s pain.

Rhys grips my neck tightly, “Stop it.” I met his gaze as he pulls his face away from mine, “Stop beating yourself up. You didn’t know.”

“BUT I SHOULD HAVE!” I erupted causing Rhys to jump back, “I was so mad! I couldn’t even look at her only to find out she has been hating herself.” I stood and began to pace, “I promised my mom that I would take care of her. But I let her go out into the forest only going out with her scarcely, I let Tamlin sink his teeth into her with his sweet words, and soft touches. I let her think I abandoned her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down.” Rhys tried to grab my shoulder and I shook him off.

My breathing became short and erratic, “What if she would have taken her life when Tamlin kicked me out of his court. What if she did it and I never apologized.” I rubbed my hand on my chest, “It would have been my fault. Oh gods.” Breathing became difficult and my hearing muffled I didn’t even notice the door open. Strong arms wrapped around me and flushed up against a strong toned chest the smell of leather and sandalwood surrounded me. I leaned my head back as tears flowed freely.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Cassian whispered in my ear, he pressed his lips to the top of my ear. He led me to the couch to sit and he lightly bended my head in between my knees. “Inhale,” he commanded his voice not that of a general, but I couldn’t place the gentle yet firm tone in it, and I take a breath, “hold it,” I did for a moment, “Exhale slowly,” He exhaled with me his hand rubbing circles around my back. “That’s my girl, again,” He guided me through some deep breaths, and I began to calm down. I slowly sat up and I met his Hazel eyes his hand continued to rub my back, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I whispered.

“You okay?” I nodded and gripped my chin, “I need you to say it, baby.”

“I’m okay.” I murmured, I leaned my head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. We’re not training today.” I tried to protest but before I could open my mouth he said, “Don’t fight with me. You need to take it easy, and by the sounds of it you need to have a talk with your sister.”

I lifted my head, “Okay.” I looked at Rhys, “I’m sor-“

Rhys growled, “Do not apologize for letting your feelings out.” He kissed the top of my head, “You’re scared for your sister and want to take her pain away. I understand. I had a feeling this might happen due to how much you love her. But don’t apologize for feeling these feelings, okay?”

I sniffled, Cassian’s hand grounding me, “Even if I was a contributing factor to her pain.”

“She doesn’t see it that way. When we were outside the prison, she wished you were there. That doesn’t sound like someone who is contributing to her pain.” Rhys said. “Stay here for as long as you need.” Rhys walked away and shut the door the soft clicking felt loud against my ears.

“You don’t need to stay here, Cass,” I said as I straightened my back.

He laughed, “I’m not going anywhere, unless you ask me to. Would you like me to leave?” I bit my lip debating being honest and eventually I just shook my head. “Then I stay.” And we sat like that for a few hours with him rubbing soothingly on my back as my forehead leaned against his shoulder.

When I was finally calm, I parted ways with Cassian, kissing him on the cheek in thanks for once again taking care of me. I could have sworn I saw him blush as he turned and left for his room, but he was gone before I could assess further.

***

Then I changed and found myself outside Feyre’s door, my hand hovering over the wooden panel to knock. Before I could I just hear her go, “Come in, Y/N,”

I opened her door to find scribbling on parchment. I walked in closer and noticed she wasn’t scribbling, she was drawing. Which means she was itching to paint again. She smiled, “I could hear your heartbeat skyrocket in front of my door.

I swallowed the lump down my throat as she put her sketch to the side and faced me.

“I’m sorry.” We both said at the same time we both blinked at each other before we began to laugh.

She got up and pulled me in a bone crushing hug that I returned. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for leaving. I know you wouldn’t have gone willingly. I was just so relieved, hurt and scared that when I saw you I just.”

“Let your inner Nesta out and said things you knew would hurt.” She nodded as she sat back on the bed dragging me with her. “I get it Fey, and I need to apologize to you for my outburst yesterday. I may have been out of line.”

Feyre shook her head, “You weren’t. I was being unfair to them. I meant what I said though.” I frowned, “You seem happier here. Less on edge.”

I nodded my head in agreement, “I am happy.” I smiled and squeezed her hand, “You could be happy here too. They are good Fae either way they are kind, and generous and I think we could fit right in. If you’re open.”

She gave me a small tentative smile, “I can see myself getting to place here. Rhys is not what I expected. He is kind, patient, and sweet.”

I smirked and looked at my nail, “Handsome, charming, alluring,” Feyre shoved me playfully, as I felt what must have been the equivalent to laughter down our bond.

“I mean he is all those things too, but I should have listened to you when you told me to give him a chance.”

“Yeah, probably, but we can’t change the past. We can only move forward, and maybe that starts with us being able to talk again.” I extended the olive branch.

“I would love nothing more, Y/N. I know I have pushed you away, but I have been feeling so lonely and isolated. I want you around.” She looked down at her hands, “I need you around.”

I grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Until my heart stops beating. You’re my sister. I will always be there for you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she gripped me in a hug as she sobbed in my shoulder, “I wanted to die.”

I didn’t realize my own tears were falling as I gripped her tightly back, “I know.”

“I don’t how to heal from this.” She whispered.

“We’ll figure it out, together.” I retorted.

“You swear?”

“I swear.” We both hissed as light flashed between us and designs of swirls and two hearts intertwining revealed itself on Feyre’s collarbone, her eyes widened when I moved my tunic shirt to see the same design. “Well, I guess you and I have a bargain, Fey.”

I pulled her back into me for another hug, and we stayed like that for a while, nothing but the crackling of the fire. Staring at the fire my brain led me to that night with Eris.

Eris paraded me around the ballroom keeping me on a short leash as his hand sprawled on my back. He reached the Dais where Amarantha and Tamlin stood, his eyes flicked to me and I could have sworn there was a flicker of a smirk was on his face but it was gone as quickly as it was there. “My queen, I would like to retire with my pet at your approval of course.”

Amarantha should me a glare and I just bow my head avoiding her gaze, “Yes get her out of my sight. Enjoy your reward.”

With a tug of the leash, he walked me out and I had chance to glance at Rhysand who was holding on to a dancing drunken Feyre. When we walked down the hall past the sentries Eris removes the leash and collar of flame and holds out his hand. I hesitated to take it and Eris clicked his tongue, “You attempt to flee, my little ember, and I will make sure you are bound to the point of uselessness.”

My hand finds his and finds they are surprisingly warm. He leads me to his chamber and finds that despite it being in the mountain it looks like it could be a room in a castle. Eris walks in and begins to unbutton his jacket and I tense, fear of what he has planned, He looked at me clearly sensing my fear. Not easing my fears, Eris shook off the jacket and walked over holding it out expecting me to put my arms through. Confusion fell upon me as I slowly moved and slid my arms in the jacket. He pulled me close causing me to gasped and he chuckled in response as he buttoned up the jacket, “There better?”

I nodded, the Autumn Court Prince gripped my arms and led me to the large bed on the side of the room near the fireplace, “Sleep.” He ordered and I crossed my arms. He looked at me expectantly and rolled his eyes and with a wave of his hand my dress was gone and so was the paint. My body was cleaned, the only thing keeping me covered was his jacket.

I bit my lip and I sighed, “That’s all you want me to do sleep?” I regretted asking the question.

His eyes flashed with rage, “What? Expect me to want to ravish you. To hear you cry and beg me to stop when I force myself upon you?” I flinched and looked at the ground. “I like my women consenting and moaning in pleasure not whimpering in fear. Only low bottom feeders get off on such a cruel act. My father being one of them.” He stilled and my head shot up at the admission he gave.

“Does he do that with your mother?” I asked clearly not worried about my well being.

“I would NEVER let him do something so heinous to her.” He snarled and I held my hands up in surrender.

“I meant no ill will toward the question.” He relaxed his shoulders, “You don’t like your father?”

He smiled and the expression was cold and cruel, “Do you like yours Y/N Archeron?”

I crossed my arms and looked away from his eyes. “No, I don’t” I answered.

If Eris was shocked by my honesty he didn’t let on. “Then it looks like you and I have something in common,” He had gotten close to me enough his body was radiating heat and gripped my chin, “Now go to sleep, My Little Ember.”

“What’s in it for you? For holding me here as your pet for the night?” I asked.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “You’re a mortal. I should hate you. But I’m vowing you to secrecy, you will not tell a soul, do you understand?”

I nodded my head, “Yes.” He quirked a brow waiting, and I rolled my eyes, “Yes, Master.”

He smiled and kissed my head and I grumbled at the gesture. “Good,” he said, and he leaned in and whispered in my ear and my eyes went wide. He pulled away and patted my cheek, “Now go to sleep pet,” He sat at the chair and opened a book.

I moved to the bed and found sleep the moment my head hit the pillow. It was reckless to sleep with someone as dangerous as Eris near me, but I couldn’t fight the comfort of the bed, the warmth of the fire and exhaustion in my bones. My thoughts swirling of Eris’s plan to become High Lord of Autumn Court.

Chapter 8

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #cassian x you #acotar fanfiction #cassian #cassian fanfic #cassian fluff

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scientia-rex · 1 year ago

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I will say, I have really enjoyed hearing all the stories about intergenerational friendships on my post. People being like "yep that's Old Man Bob at the corner store, he's ancient (26) but he helped me survive middle school!" or "I share this highly specific special interest with people in their 70s and we love talking about it and this gives me joy," like, this is why I side-eye so hard when people pull that "there's no good reason for minors and adults to talk" like sir have you seen steam engines? I just watched a documentary about a steam engine restoration where the very intense man who loves steam engines was clearly deeply personally proud of the steam engine obsessed 12 year old who showed up and begged to help restore the steam engine, and that little autistic kid is going to be so much better off having a probably autistic adult friend who also passionately loves steam engines and will not only talk steam engines but teach him everything about them. I have had 4th graders engage me in conversation about my shirts (generally ones with cats on them).

We live in a society. We have interests beyond sex. Most of us spend actually a very small amount of our lives on sex, compared to all our other interests. We have so much to share and learn from each other about, and recognizing and calling out creep behavior is infinitely more useful than thinking there's some kind of creep-proof way we can divvy up humans, because the whole point of abusers is that they pretend that's not what they are, often well enough that their abusive behavior is invisible to most people. So we need kids to know what abusive behavior looks like, and we need them to have people in their lives they can talk to about that, and ideally we need to inoculate them ahead of time so they know when the creep behavior starts happening that that's what it is and tell adults who believe them and respond appropriately so they don't come to harm.

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copperbadge · 4 months ago

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Hey Sam! Would you mind sharing the research (or if you're not comfortable with that, your general search terms) you found on children of parents with emotional disregulation? That's been a theme in my own life, but I haven't found good papers about it myself, so I'd be interested in learning more.

Truly, it is a fucking quest.

So, when I initially searched I only really found one good article on what I think of as the "pop psych" side of things:

The Emotionally Dysregulated Parent by The Curious Nerd

It suffers from the problem a lot of pop psych books do, which is that it offers a highly relatable checklist and very few concrete solutions, but I don't want to criticize that because it's also not claiming that offering solutions is the goal. The article is more of a "Hey is this what I'm dealing with? Yes? Okay" kind of a situation.

Also, to preface: there is a fairly fine but visible line dividing "emotionally dysregulated" from "emotionally immature" which I think is why Adult Children Of Emotionally Immature Parents didn't resonate with me as much as it has for some. Dysregulated parents can have a fairly high level of emotional maturity, they just have wildly unpredictable reactions at times because their emotions overwhelm their self-control. So the impact on the child is less visible, and looks less like the forms of abuse or neglect that we're accustomed to.

More research under the cut but also a warning at the very end for some discussion of some pretty heavy stuff -- I'll put a little bold header before that bit so folks know when to stop reading if they want. (No personal accounts of abuse, just a discussion of abusive behaviors.)

I was looking for more articles like the one above and more research papers about the issue, but the problem was that Research came in three flavors:

All our data comes from surveys that parents took about their own dysregulation and the dysregulation of their small children. This is...interesting, I guess, but it's not good data because it's all self-reported and only by the parents.

We are studying emotional dysregulation's impact on the relationship between parents and adult children...but only in situations where the adult child is the dysregulated one. Obviously this isn't helpful and also what the fuck.

A study that affirms that emotionally dysregulated parents raise emotionally dysregulated children. I know these are necessary in order to build a framework for further research but also, you know, water be wet.

What actually helped me was stumbling across a different term during this research: "High Self-Monitoring". This refers to people who, as children, experienced unstable or irregular behavior from their caregivers and who thus developed the habit of constantly monitoring others' behavior, and others' reactions to their behavior, to ensure that they are accepted and approved of.

I never felt comfortable with thinking of myself as hypervigilant because the behaviors of hypervigilance don't match mine, but the behaviors of high self-monitors do, because they're specifically focused on the behaviors of other people in social situations. Remember how I was literally diagnosed as extremely charming? Yeah, high self-monitoring is a huge part of that.

I haven't had a chance to explore this as much. I hesitate to say the below link is helpful, because I think a lot of his suggestions aren't really valid for people with any flavor of neurodiversity, but I do think his exploration of self-monitoring is generally informative:

How to Become Less Self-Conscious by Matt Norman

Relative to high self-monitoring is another term, "Parentification", which refers to a parent investing their child with the responsibility of parenting a sibling or becoming a caregiver for said parent. This is akin to "eldest daughter syndrome" that you may have seen discussed on Tumblr, but more clinically defined and intense (and less gendered). Again, I haven't had a chance to dig into Parentification, so I don't have more to recommend yet.

Discussion of childhood trauma below, specifically incest. Skip to the next bold header if you don't want to read this.

I will say, very frequently you see Parentification paired with another term, emotional incest, which refers to a parent putting their child in the position of a romantic partner but without the physical aspect of incest. It can involve venting to the child about romantic partners or work problems, depending on the child for emotional support, preventing the child from peer activities or age-appropriate friendships because of jealousy, and sometimes physical contact that's not sexual but also not parent-child appropriate.

I think "emotional incest" is a real behavior but also a really ugly term for that behavior, and Therapist agreed. It feels like the term adds stigma simply because incest is such a loaded word. It's something I have seen people use to refer to their own experiences and that's absolutely their call, I am not going to step to anyone who needs it or feels it applies to their situation. But if the term makes you uncomfortable I think that's also justified. In talking about it, Therapist and I reframed it as Boundary Breaking, but I think with a bit of work I can come up with something a bit more specific.

So, just, if you see a discussion of emotional incest I do recommend you have a look because it's an advanced form of parentification and may be something you want to deal with, but be aware the name may feel like it sucks and be ready to uh, deal with that.

Okay, here's the second bold header, you can come back now.

So yeah, my research has been very surface level, in part because once I found all this I wanted to bring it to Therapist for guidance in further research. But I do think that "emotional dysregulation and parents" is sadly not a great search term. You're better off searching for "high self-monitor" or "parentification" and keeping a keen eye out for additional keywords those searches may generate. Good luck...

#not yet fired from therapy #childhood trauma

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uhohdad · 8 months ago

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HIS

Stalker!Konig x Reader Fic

Summary: It makes him sick to think of the man he used to be. Who he was before you reduced him to an obsessive, jealous monster.

You ruined his life.

Word Count: 10k AO3

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, No use of y/n, AFAB & Feminine Reader, Unreliable Narrator, Non-Consenual Voyeurism, Stalking, Breaking and Entering, Abusive Relationships, Depictions of: Non-Con Sex, Choking, Hair-Pulling, Spanking, Slut-Shaming, Bad German, Orgasm Torture, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Smoking, Konig has a Love/Hate Relationship with Reader, Implications of Ghost x Reader, hopefully the reader isn’t too out of character for y’all, unfortunately this one had to be more detail oriented, you will be making an uncharacteristic amount of phone calls i’ll tell you that much

Continuation of this, but can be enjoyed stand-alone

He dreamt of you last night.

You were ethereal, liebe. A true angel - floating down to him in his dark isolation, basking him in your elegant golden light. He finally had your attention. The pleasure of having your gaze fixed on him, nothing but adoration in your sparkling eyes. Your hand extended gracefully out to him, delicate fingers cupping the side of his face, thumb stroking his cheek. A gesture of appreciation for the hours he poured into you, an acceptance of his protection. An apology, for denying him the ownership that he had earned over and over again.

An ownership he was overdue for.

A chill wrapped its fingers around Konig’s spine, unforgiving frost spreading from his core to his fingertips. Your expression had changed without transition, eyes suddenly pooled with malice, lips tightened in disgust. A growl thick with hatred reverberated through him when the thrust of your arm plunged a sword through his heart.

Frantic callused hands scramble to the wound, relieved to find only a shirt drenched in sweat as Konig shook the haze of sleep. Relieved to know you hadn’t seen him for what he really was, that you hadn’t rejected him so cruelly.

He was beginning to resent you for the sleep deprivation. He knew you were going to let him sleep in today. Every Saturday, after a long week of watching over you, you thank him with an opportunity to sleep in.

You ruined it.

Taunting him in his dreams - fooling him even after everything he’s sacrificed, letting him taste a moment where his fantasy comes true, only to rip it away from him so brutally.

Konig soothed himself by lying back, easing himself into the first half of his dream. He replayed the vivid image of you stroking his cheek, looking at him in astonishment after learning about everything he’s done for you.

Maybe he could forgive you for tearing open his chest. For letting him feel true bliss, even for a moment. To let him know what it would feel like to have you.

It’s the least you could do.

Konig doesn’t even recognize himself anymore. He’s entirely off the rails, fully succumb to his depraved behavior, helpless to the urges you’ve scraped to the surface. It makes him sick to think of the man he used to be. Who he was before you reduced him to an obsessive, jealous monster.

You ruined his life.

His passions, his dreams, his reputation - it all pales in comparison to you. Nothing he cared about before matters now. He feels like an addict, powerless to his addiction and chasing the high. He revolves around you, the center of his universe. He’s sure you’re the reason he’s alive. You consume every waking moment of his day, and now his dreams.

And you can’t even be bothered to look at him.

Ungrateful little brat.

You had a late start to the day, making Konig wait for you to sleep off last night’s drinks. It was well into the afternoon when you left your quarters, wearing your civilian clothes and attention glued to your phone as you navigated the paths of the base.

It was a breath of fresh air to see your face again. He’d been drowning, choking on his pitiful existence when you were apart. Dread eats him alive from the inside out, a swarm of maggots and flies deteriorating the meat of his flesh and organs. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand without being with you every moment of the day.

But here you are, his light, his warmth. He can feel you coursing through his veins - another hit of the drug he couldn’t get enough of.

You looked perfect in your jeans and t-shirt. It’s nice to see you out of the drab and ill-fitting clothes the military forces on you. The denim hugs the curve of your ass and meld tight to perfect hips and thighs. He thinks of the show you gave him last night, the way your ass looked in the thin fabric of your panties. He knows what’s underneath those jeans. You can hide it from the rest of the world, but not from him.

You’re not paying attention, liebe. Fingers pecking away at your phone, only glancing up to make sure you didn’t bump into anyone.

It’s dangerous to be alone like this, even more so to be unaware of your surroundings.

You always do this.

How could you be so careless?

This is why he has to sacrifice everything to protect you. To keep prying eyes and itchy fingers away from you while your guard is down.

Your brows pinch as you focus on your phone, lips silently reading the text that fills your screen.

Who is so important that you must risk your safety to return their message?

He wants to sprint up to you, close enough that he can look over your shoulder to read your messages. It takes strength for him to restrain himself, to wait until you’re far enough away before standing from his bench, his boots following in your wake.

Konig’s longed to get his hands on your phone for some time. He knows that phone contains secrets about you he could only dare to dream about. It’s the key to knowing your inner desires, to put him in the position to serve you as best he can. Your intimate messages, browser history, photos.

He wonders if you have nudes on your phone. The very thought sends his blood rushing.

Swiping through your dirty pictures, a collection of obscene poses from his muse. One of you arching your back and pushing your tits out for the camera. Another with you sticking out your tongue, begging to taste him and ready to choke on his cock. On your back, thighs spread, displaying a wet cunt ripe for tasting. On your knees, ass up and waiting impatiently for him to pound you ruthlessly from behind.

His fantasy is tainted by the sharp and scorching realization that if you did have nudes on your phone - you’ve sent them to someone. The thought of another man daring to lay his unworthy eyes on you has his eye twitching, a searing heat already peeling his skin.

Why would you give yourself away, like you’re worth nothing?

He forces a deep breath, redirecting his focus to his pace, strides nearly double the length of yours. He hates having to follow you from so far away. He wants to walk beside you. Towering next to you - he wants everyone to know who you belong to, the mountain they would have to conquer if they wanted to get to you.

He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire journey to your destination, delightfully surprised when you step into the mall. He was worried that you were foolish enough to go somewhere unsavory all by yourself. It’s even better that you were going somewhere with plenty of people around, enough for him to blend in the crowd. Such a wide-open building, perfect for him to keep a watchful eye on you even from a distance.

Maybe today you’ll make it easy for him.

He’s getting tired of you being difficult.

When you duck into a clothing store, Konig can’t help the smile that creeps on his face.

Going to pick out new clothes to model for him?

Oh, you really were being a good girl today.

He’s eager to see what you buy, heart rate accelerating as he imagines the possibilities. He’s already dressing you up in his mind like his little doll.

He settles at a table in the food court with a perfect view. You seemed to be in a rush - not wasting time as you scrape hangers across the metal clothing racks. Eyebrows pinched in concentration, jaw slightly cocked as you pressed your tongue to your teeth. You look cute when you’re focused.

Konig’s brow perks when you stop in your tracks, attention caught by a dress on the end display. Your face relaxes when you lay eyes on it, delicate hands running over its fabric. It was beautiful - a soft pastel blue, intricate azure and yellow flowers blooming on its pattern, a thin white lace stitched along the neckline. It was a dress fit for a princess, fit for his wife. He dives headfirst into a daydream about you wearing it once he’s domesticated you, hem dancing when you greet him with a kiss after a long day. His hands would find your waist when you stand on tippy toes to give him his welcome home kiss.

You flip the price tag before moving on, and his smile falls flat.

That’s the one. That’s the dress you’re meant to wear.

You like it, don’t you?

You stop every so often to check the time on your phone, pulling a face when you do so. Running late to something, he’s sure. Where are you supposed to be? And what’s so important that you needed a new outfit?

He watches you pull a hanger free, a black dress you hold up high enough to obscure his view of you.

No, liebe.

Don’t even think about it.

He can tell from his spot across the walkways that it’s too revealing. It would cut short at your mid-thigh, neckline that’s designed to show off your cleavage. Skin tight and would leave nothing to the imagination.

The kind of dress that would attract the attention of the wrong people.

Of course you would do this.

Dressing yourself like the slut you are.

A scowl smears across his face as he watches you walk up to the cashier.

So you were going to be difficult today.

Just when he thinks you’re finally cutting him some slack, you go out of your way to misbehave.

You’re quick to leave, whorish dress packed away in a white plastic bag and resting on the crease of your arm. Your hands find your phone again, a slight wince at something on your screen.

He’s too disappointed with your clear lack of judgment to think about what’s on your phone that’s stealing your attention.

He has to close his eyes, a few deep breaths to calm himself before he loses control, before he gives in and teaches you a lesson that you so desperately need.

His fists stay tight at his sides, knuckles splotched white on tight fists as he follows you out of the mall in haste.

With a hitch of his breath the rage carried on tensed shoulders lifts.

It’s the sun shining on your hair that grounds him this time. Locks shimmering, revealing their true color to him as the breeze makes your soft tufts dance. Your skin glows in the sun’s warmth - it takes him right back to the euphoria of his dream. Your light, liebe - he can see it.

Your pace slows when you reach behind you, pulling your phone from the sheath of your jean pocket. He can’t see your face, but he watches from behind as you bring it to your ear.

He seized his opportunity to close ground, enough that he can hear your side of the conversation. He normally wouldn’t get so close to you, but you seem to be extra distracted today, and Konig is too curious to miss out on your phone call.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry. I’m almost at the subway. I’ll be there in 20.”

Hearing your voice makes his heart skip a beat. He missed that beautiful voice, silky smooth and goes down like honey.

Especially when you sound so apologetic.

Is this what it’ll be like when you finally own up to the grief you’ve put him through?

There’s a pause before you speak again, a small laugh escaping you.

“He can wait.”

He?

Konig’s thoughts race before you had even finished your sentence, his moment of enamor shattering like rose-colored glasses.

Who’s he?

Is ‘he’ who you picked out that promiscuous dress of yours for?

Anyone who would be okay with that dress doesn’t have your best interests in mind, liebe. Konig knows what’s best for you, and it’s getting harder to watch from the sidelines as you make mistakes time and time again. He’s ready to interfere, to take control away from you, since you’re clearly not responsible enough to do it yourself. Someone needs to put their foot down. You’re begging for him to step in, to discipline you until you can demonstrate you’re capable of behaving.

“Uh,” You trail off in a hum before you respond, “I don’t know about that. You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“I don’t know.” You say with a whine, “This is already a lot for me. I don’t… this really isn’t my thing.”

“No!” You squeak out, followed by a forced casual, “No.” You’re suddenly flustered, stopping in your tracks when a nervous laugh escapes you. You make a quarter turn and Konig flinches when he sees your face, searching around for a quick escape.

“Just because I talk about him a lot doesn’t mean I like him.”

Konig’s eye twitches at ‘him.’ Who are you talking about so often that you’re being accused of crushing on someone?

Maybe you were talking about Konig.

He doubts it, but the idea dulls the edge of the blade you’re slicing him with.

“Because…” You huff, bailing on a sentence you started without thinking through, “Okay, fine. I’ll try. For you.”

What mess were you getting yourself into, liebe? He doesn’t like the sound of this at all.

“Okay, okay. I’m at the station now. See you soon.” Your phone slips back into your pocket.

Going on the subway all by yourself. Look at you, inviting danger in.

He’s locked onto your ass as you make the descent into the underground, hips swaying with each step down the concrete stairs.

If you look this distracting in jeans, what attention do you think you’ll attract in that fucking dress?

You reach for your wallet once you’re down the stairs, the pad of your finger freeing your subway card from its slot.

Shit.

He doesn’t have a subway card.

His gaze flicks to the kiosks before back to you, already swiping your card and pushing through the turnstiles. He scans the crowd before he lands on a pair of cops monitoring the station, ruining his chance to jump the stiles.

He almost drops his wallet as he fumbles for cash, rushing to the kiosk to pay.

He’s pleading under his breath for the machine to process faster. He’s convinced the kiosk could sense his fear, uncooperative to the forceful press of its buttons. Panicked glances over his shoulder reveal you progressing through the station until you’re around the corner and out of sight.

He’s lost track of you by the time he secures his card. The crowd parts for him, his intimidating stature coming in handy as he makes laps around the station before he realizes you’re gone, with no way for him to know where you are headed. A blackhole of dread swallows him whole - sweat escapes the flustered heat that blistered his skin, heart pounding against his ribcage. His hand finds his head, quiet but rigid expletives riding his exhales.

Why do you have to make things so hard for him?

He’s failed you. He’s sorry, liebe. He’s supposed to be your guard. Anything that happens to you tonight will be his fault. He suspects you’re really going to be acting out tonight, going somewhere out of your comfort zone with other men, dressed like a prostitute. Your light on display for anyone to dim.

White hot flashes of grabbing hands, lingering eyes, and cheap compliments invade his thoughts, stomach tightening and threatening to retch.

This is your fault.

You’re just a foolish little girl who doesn’t know what’s good for her. You’ve pushed him to his limit, he can’t let this go on anymore.

If you won’t behave, he’ll just have to show you how a good girl acts.

It takes him too long to realize he’s holding his breath, fist clenched and teeth grit as his rage burns him from the inside out. His eyes pinch shut as he tries to recenter himself, forcing deep breaths through his tightened jaw.

Nothing too extreme.

A gentle nudge.

A push to test the waters, to see if you can handle the expectations that go along with being his. To give you an opportunity to change your indecent behavior before he puts you in your place the hard way.

————————————————————-

Konig’s taken the lives of countless men, a ruthless brute in the heat of the battlefield. He’s been in thousands of life or death circumstances, finding himself on the other end of blades and triggers on a near daily basis. He thrives in danger.

It’s nothing in comparison to the adrenaline coasting through his veins as he picks the lock to your quarters.

He can hear his heartbeat, the rush of his blood deafening him as he crouches in front of your door, head snapping side to side to ensure the coast remains clear. He‘s nauseous with excitement, stomach churning and sweat soaking his clothes.

There’s a part of him, a sliver thin remnant of the respectable man he used to be, that manifests as a weight of guilt in his stomach. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, that he was so far beyond the line he couldn’t even see it anymore. This was a new magnitude of violating your privacy.

He knows that if he got caught, he’d be discharged faster than he could explain himself. He’d lose you, his warmth.

You left him no choice.

If you didn’t want this to happen, you shouldn’t have run from him. You’ve given him the perfect opportunity. He’s got more than enough time to get his fix, and it’s the only substitute he’ll accept for missing an evening without his eyes you.

When the lock finally pops, hands fumbling for the knob, he miscalculates his strength and sends himself tripping into your room. Quickly but quietly shutting the door behind him, clicking your lock back into place before standing straight, hands falling to his side.

The rush of standing in your room crashes over him like a wave, dizzy and disoriented as he takes you in.

He can’t believe he’s here.

In your room.

It doesn’t feel real, an out-of-body experience. A dream. His dream.

He doesn’t dare move for a full minute, breathing heavily as he fidgeted in his spot.

When he finally works up the courage to move, he inches himself towards your captivating things. A gloved finger grazes across your dresser as he inspects the belongings scattered on its surface.

He picks up a perfume, carefully uncapping it and bringing it up to his nose. With a deep inhale, his eyes flutter shut as he takes the scent of you in.

Immediate warmth pools in the pit of his stomach, already straining against the give in his pants. He spritzes into the air, the sun shining through the slats in your blinds catching on the cloud of mist. He’s hoping your scent will linger with him during his stay. He snaps the cap on with a satisfying pop and ensures he places it down exactly where he found it, cautious to leave little indication of his visit.

A shimmer catches his attention, eyes drawn to a dainty necklace. Two fingers lift it in the air, letting its reflection sparkle while he inspects the metal. He wants to put it in his pocket, a little trinket of his visit. Something to remind him that it wasn’t a dream. A piece of you to bring him comfort whenever he’s away from you. A good luck charm.

He resists the urge, placing it back on the dresser in a pile of intricate looped chains.

Your hairbrush is next, shaky fingers wrapping around the handle. His thumb skims over the bristles, watching them through half-lidded eyes as they rhythmically spring back into place. He inspects the glossy stray strands left behind in a tangled mess, imagining you gliding the brush through your gorgeous hair, your fingers following in its wake as you hum a soft tune.

He’s setting all your things down carefully, not only because he doesn’t want to leave evidence behind, but because he knows the worth of your priceless treasures.

He leans down, giving him a closer view of a polaroid taped to the edge of your mirror. You and a friend, eyes crinkled with big cheesy smiles plastered on your faces, arms wrapped around each other in a close embrace. Konig finds himself smiling at the photo, touching the border with the pad of his finger. He wishes that was him next to you, him you were embracing tightly, him you were happy just to sit next to each other on a night out.

He steadily slides a dresser drawer out, mindful to the sound of wood scraping against itself. Inside he finds your pajamas. He pulls his gloves off with his teeth, reaching in to stroke the material with his knuckle.

He grabs the shirt on top, oversized and well-worn. Broken in and softened over hundreds of restful nights. He brings it to his face and takes another inhale, getting high off the smell of your fabric softener and the image of you drowning in the shirt.

Once you’re in his grasp, he’ll make sure you only sleep in his shirts, liebe. Exposed thighs and legs peeking out from beneath his shirt that barely clings to your shoulders. A clear representation of the size difference between you two. A reminder to you of just how small and powerless you are compared to him.

He brushes the fabric against his stubbled jaw to know what it would feel like to rest his head on your shoulder. To bury his face into your chest after a long day. To rest his head on your stomach while you comb your fingers through his hair.

He wants to take it with him. Cut eye holes and replace his hood with it so that he can wear your shirt over his head every day, high off your scent as he inhales you in with each breath he takes.

He gently folds the shirt and puts it back into its place, closing the drawer before moving on to another. He thumbs through the rest of your clothes until he gets to a drawer that makes him freeze, heart stopping and fingers still laced around the handle of your dresser drawer.

Your panties.

His cock is at full attention now, painfully hard and leaking precum. Trembling hands make a slow descent, meticulously choosing his favorite. He holds them up to get a better look, picturing you filling them out, just as you were last night. The lower half of your ass peeking out to tease him. He didn’t think he would ever be jealous over scraps of cotton, but he knows these panties have kissed your perfect cunt and soaked up your arousal, everything he was entitled to.

He can’t help himself this time, liebe.

You have to understand that he can’t just let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

A reward, for all of the hard work he’s poured into you. For everything he’s sacrificed for you.

He stuffs your panties into his underwear, casual and discreet, as if he were stealing them in front of a crowd. He even looks side to side, just to make sure no one was watching over his shoulder. The feeling of your panties pressed up against his cock had him throbbing, staining the fabric a shade darker with precum. With a slight twitch of his hips, the head of his cock forces against the bundled cloth, electricity sparking through his lower half. He swallows hard, mouth turned cotton.

Konig’s getting intoxicated off of you, less gentle when he rummages through your nightstand. His arousal is taking control now, he’s desperate to uncover more of your dirty little secrets.

He holds a sharp breath, lips parting when he uncovers your vibrator. A deep purple and molded into the shape of bunny ears.

There’s a twinge of jealousy, accompanied by a pull of his lips.

Why use a toy when you can have the real thing, liebe? You don’t need a toy when you have him. He’d pleasure your cunt anytime you ask, lapping at your clit until you’re screaming his name. His tongue coercing orgasm after orgasm until you’re begging for him to stop, tears streaming down your face at the overstimulation. He’ll make you regret even asking him to pleasure you.

The jealousy is shelved when he pictures you on your back, legs spread and displaying your perfect pussy for him. Glistening with your arousal, face twisted in euphoria as you sway your hips on the vibrations. Soft moans would spill from your mouth, breathy whispers of Konig’s name on your tongue.

He stumbles backward onto your bed, hand reaching blindly behind him to find the mattress as he studies the soft silicone of your toy.

He can’t help himself anymore. He’s sorry, liebe. His erection borders on painful, balls swollen and cock begging for release.

It’s your fault.

Putting your promiscuous toys and dainty panties on display for anyone to find.

He lies back on your bed that creaks and flexes under his large stature, his head nestling comfortably on your pillow.

He fumbles the button of his pants, sloppily freeing his cock from the restraint of his waistbands. He wraps the jumbled mess of your panties around his shaft, holding the fabric in place as he grasps his base and steadily pumps himself.

You’re straddling him, cunt grinding against him through drenched panties. Biting your lip while you rock your clit on him, looking down at him with eyes glazed with lust.

He’s had enough of your teasing, liebe. He’ll punish you for working him up like this.

Yanking your panties to the side, lubing the tip of his swollen dick on your slicked rim. Tight grip indenting the flesh of your hips as he forces you down on his thick cock, watching your face twist while you strain to work around his girth. The biggest you’ve ever had. He has to train you, stretch out your tight little cunt so you can handle a good pounding. He’ll ruin that cunt, leave you a gaping cum-filled mess for any other man that dares to try. No one else will ever compare once he’s finished with you.

“Konig, I can’t-”

“You will.”

You’re soaking, liebe, just a wet little mess dripping down his pulsing cock.

His fingers slide down to your thighs, nails digging into you once you’re flush with the base of his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you struggle to take him.

“Look at me.”

You obey like the good girl you’re supposed to be, looking to him with pitiful, pleading eyes as he lifts you, a sharp gasp escaping when he buries fully into you.

He holds you in place with a strict grip, hovering inches above him while he thrusts up, mercilessly fucking your hole like the cock sleeve you are.

Choking on your moans, overstimulated by a mixture of pain and pleasure that has you squeezing around him.

“Take it like a braves Mädchen.”

A sob leaves you as he pounds into you, limply doubling over before he catches your upper arms, propping you up like a rag doll.

“Alle meine. You understand me, brat? All mine.”

A raw cry scratches the back of your throat, tits bouncing relentlessly against your ribs as he tortures your g-spot. An involuntary whimper rhythmically with each thrust, arms sore from Konig’s harsh grasp.

He forces you forward, bending you at your core so he can catch one of your nipples in his mouth with a tight suck. He doesn’t waver from his strict plunges into your cunt as his tongue eagerly circles the sensitive bud. The pleasure amplifies under the stimulation, he can tell by the roll of your eyes and the way you collapse in his arms, hypnotized by his power and stuttering out his name with broken breath. Giving yourself to him.

A brain dead, cock drunk little slut.

His hand snakes around the back of your head to grab a fist full of hair, a stiff yank forcing your neck to crane and pulling him off your tit with a pop. His spit turns cool over your nipple, tightening the pink flesh with a chill down your spine. Nails scratching desperately into his glistened chest, begging for mercy.

You won’t get any from him, little girl.

You’re his.

A toy to dump his cum into, a wet hole for him to ruin, a doll to control.

The clapping of slicked flesh on flesh fills the room, tugging your hair down to keep you from wiggling away from the ruthless fucking. Your swollen clit slaps against his mound with each bottom out, intertwining with the unforgiving pleasure of your abused g-spot and knitting into a cruel euphoria.

“Listen to your pathetic moans. Everyone will know who you belong to.”

The hand gripping your hair releases suddenly, repositioning to clench around your throat, silencing your moans with a threatening squeeze.

Your eyes snap open, an intoxicating fear spread on your features as your eyes beg for release. Pointlessly clawing at his grip, fighting for your stolen breath. He’s addicted to the way your horror steadily builds with each passing second he doesn’t let go.

He waits until your expression loosens, until your eyes cross and you’re seeing double. When he morphs into a blurry figure, floating farther and farther away from you, and the only thing you can possibly focus on is the brutal pounding of your cunt.

He lets you go seconds before you faint, cunt squeezing down on him with each desperate cough for breath. He grabs onto two fistfuls of ass, spreading you apart. Opening that cunt, making sure to fill you to the brim with each slam into you.

“Ko- gn’na cum!”

“Beg for it.”

A desperate, breathless cry tears your throat.

“Please, Konig! Please!”

A hand winds back, full palm returning to give a harsh smack to your ass. When you gasp in surprise, his grip tightens threateningly, voice lowered to a vicious growl.

“Address me properly.”

“Pl-” You’re briefly distracted by the rhythmic pounding, trailing off before he leaves another imprint of his hand on your ass.

“Please, Colonel! I-” The words get stuck in your throat, but your desperation pushes them through, so raw and pleading it doesn’t register to you as your own voice. You let off on a whine, eyes screwing shut while your body is degradingly shaken under the powerful bucks of his hips.

“Do it, brat. Cum.”

He watches your face contort, mouth fully gaped, suddenly radio silent as you convulse on his cock. He doesn’t let up on you, taking advantage of your walls tightening around him.

When your voice returns, you’re squeaking out anguished whimpers, squirming away from the progression into overstimulation.

He doesn’t let up. Your pleasure is nothing but collateral, liebe. He’ll use you until he’s finished. Bully you with his fat cock, ignoring your weak begging and futile attempts to pry yourself from his grasp.

It’s the harsh ripples of his orgasm - the warm droplets of his cum landing on his stomach, the sound of him choking on a hitched breath in the dead silence of your bedroom - that shocks him back into his pathetic reality.

Tensed muscles relax seconds after he’s milked the last of his intense finish, his sweat and shame wrapping him in a suffocating blanket.

He’s defiled you, liebe. A slimy creep, breaking into your sacred space and getting off in your bed. Where you lay your head after a long day, hiding from the world under these cozy covers. He’s tainted the sanctity of an angel’s hollow.

A disgusting, selfish pervert.

He buries his face into your pillow, breathing you in as he catches his breath and wipes away his mess with your panties.

“Tut mir leid.” He whispers into your silken pillowcases. He’s sorry, liebe. He didn’t mean to lose control like this. To let him get this close to you, close enough his depravity bleeds into your personal life. He meant to keep his distance, to keep you safe from him and his degenerative sickness.

But here he is, in your bed, pretending that you’ve welcomed him here. That he was giving you a fucking fit for a whore.

He feels dirty, he wants to shed his skin, to get a fresh start. A life where he never even met you. Where he never gave you full control over him. Where he never succumbed to his atrocious urges.

It’s too late.

You ruined his life.

His best course of action was a shower, to wash away the evidence of his sin and maybe feel clean again. To feel worthy of you again.

To bathe in your scent and take it with him.

To steal just a sliver of your light and wear it proudly.

The warm water soothes his aching muscles, always sore after a long week of strenuous work. He lets the water take him away, calming himself as much as he was capable under the circumstances.

He wonders what you’re up to. Where you’re at, what mess you’ve gotten yourself into without his supervision. Probably in that slutty dress and giving your attention to undeserving men. Flirting with them like a common whore.

The scent of your shampoo wafting in the hot steam eases his racing thoughts, closing his eyes while he massages his hair.

He imagines you’re in the shower with him, insisting to scrub him. He has to lean over so you can reach his head. Gently scratching his scalp, giving him a tingling sensation as you wash him clean from your tiptoes.

You’d scrub his body next, making a careful loop around his neck. Gently soaping his chest, lingering around his strong biceps. Feeling the strength that protects you every day. You’ll slide down to his stomach, attention on his tight abdominal muscles.

It’s his cock you pay the most attention to, stoking him clean, your other hand massaging bubbles onto his balls.

Such a good girl, liebe.

Taking care of him after a hard day.

When you’re done with him, he’d scrub you down, rough hands squeezing soft soapy tits.

He’d take his time with you, making sure to give every inch of you the care it deserves before flipping you around and fucking you ruthlessly against the shower wall, water clapping obnoxiously as he clashes into your thighs.

Such a good girl, liebe.

Taking care of him after a hard day.

Konig finishes his shower, wiping himself down with one of your towels before wrapping it around his waist.

He spends some time poking around your bathroom cabinets, curiously reading the labels on bottles of medicines. Helping himself to your Q-tips, your skin care, your deodorant.

He’s getting closer to the perfect mixture of your scent, liebe. He’ll carry it with him as long as he can, surrounding himself in a cloud of you.

When he’s done drying off & redressing himself, he carefully folds his towel and tucks it into the middle of your stack of clean towels. He bites his lip at the thought of you using the same towel that dried him.

Once he leaves the bathroom, he’s ready to poke through the rest of your things. He starts with the three sliding drawers that support the right side of your desk.

Pens, highlighters, chargers, scissors, tape.

A notebook?

He prays it’s a diary, a glimpse into your internal dialogue. He runs a finger down the thin metal coil of the spiral edge before flipping the cover.

He’s enamored with your handwriting, unique and flawed in its own wonderful way. It crafts inked scribblings documenting your time in training. Meticulously written notes on the processes of your position. He skims through the pages, filled to the brim with dry information.

You’re brilliant, liebe. The amount of knowledge that it takes to fill your shoes speaks to how intelligent you are.

He stops on a page with doodles in the corner, touching the hint of you peeking through dull instructional pages.

When he’s satisfied he plops the notebook back into its drawer and continues his search.

Batteries, a flashlight, a spool of thread.

A book.

He stops to read its spine, running his fingers over the raised title on the cover.

A romance novel?

A dark romance novel.

His heart skips a beat as he flips the book over and reads the summary.

You’re just as filthy and deviant as him, aren’t you liebe?

This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

You want him to follow you, to control you, to dominate you. You want him, don’t you?

He settles onto your bed, back flush with the covers as he nestles into your pillow. He peels the cover back, swiping through the introductory pages with his thumb, eyes attentively soaking in the words of the first chapter.

He’s determined to figure out your ideal man, your perfect idea of romance. This is his guide, he’s sure. Exactly how he should treat you to earn your affection.

The first chapter details a young woman who had finally built her perfect little life. Engaged to a supportive, loving, and devoted fiancé and settled into a cozy home in the suburbs surrounding the city where she worked. Working her dream career, it doesn’t pay much - but isn’t she oh so happy?

The first chapter lulls him, losing interest during the wholesome exposition.

He sets the open book on his chest, arm propping behind his head as he memorizes your room. He closes his eyes, absentmindedly stroking your cozy blankets. Giving a pleased hum as he nuzzles his head further into your pillow.

He wonders what it would be like to fall asleep next to you. To have you nestled into the crook of his arm, cheek pressed to his chest, arm draped over his torso. Flat on your back, his head on your chest as he listens to your heartbeat and soft snoring. Curled on your side, your ass pressed into his cock in a spoon, letting him grind into you as you drift off.

It’s the rattling of your lock that wakes him, his eyes snapping open in a panic and finding your window, sun no longer shining through the gaps in your blinds. He can hear your muffled voice through the door, belongings brushing against the wood as you struggle with your keys. He can’t believe he’s let the time slip through his fingers.

It’s your fault.

He hasn’t gotten a full night's rest in weeks.

It’s an intense scramble to clean up after himself, hands fumbling for your displaced book, vibrator, and soiled panties. He stumbles over his feet in a last ditch attempt to have you avoid spotting him, hoping the sound of your wardrobe door sliding closed is quiet enough to be concealed by the sound of your entrance.

He’s dead-still in his cramped position, terrified he’ll rattle the hangers that held your day clothes surrounding him. You flick on the lamp, a line of light casts a vertical strip on his face, pupil dilating as he peers through the gap in the closet’s doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, loud enough that he’s sure you can hear it.

He has never been this close to you before.

“Look, I know I’m usually chill about shit like this but that was not cool, dude.” You’re talking into your phone, pinched between your raised shoulder and cheek. “You can’t just bail like that without saying anything, my clothes were at your place.”

You take a deep breath, setting your wallet and keys down before kicking off your uncomfortable shoes. Konig’s leering gaze finds your ass as you bend over, one hand gripping the wood of the dresser to steady yourself. You do look good in that dress, liebe. Plump full thighs on display for him, skin tight cut teasing every inviting curve.

Your voice is softened when you speak again, “I’m worried about you, okay? I didn’t like that guy’s vibe. Just, let me know you’re…”

You trail off as you turn around, freezing in your place.

Your attention was caught by the soft blue dress with the intricate azure and yellow flowers, displayed on a hanger Konig had hung on your bedpost.

His gentle nudge.

Shit.

You freeze for a suffocating four seconds, face stone cold as you process the sight. Konig can see your gears turning, his face pinched in hot regret.

“…okay. Call me back.” You whisper, tone no longer strict with annoyance.

You quickly end your call before blindly placing your phone on the dresser behind you, stare locked on to the dress.

“Did I…?” You mumble under your breath, slowly stepping forward and reaching a careful hand out to touch the dress. Your brows furrowed, features drenched in confusion.

You look over your shoulder, and Konig swallows hard. This is it, you’re going to search for the intruder and find him. He’s in for a world of trouble- and that’s only if you don’t kill him first.

Your head turns back to the dress, now holding it with two hands, hem lifting off the floor.

Put it on, liebe.

The fabric slides through your finger as you let it fall into place, returning to your phone and swiping at its screen.

You raise the phone to your ear again, free hand rubbing your fingers together in a fidget. You sway in your spot, eyes darting nervously around the room while waiting through a painfully long set of rings.

“Hey - uh, Lieutenant.” You nervously clear your throat, “Sorry to bother you on the weekend- something kind of weird happened and I uh- I just have a question for you.” You let out a small nervous laugh, “Sorry. Bye.”

You quickly hang up, cheeks flushed as you press the side of your phone to your forehead in a clenched fist. Cringing at yourself for your awkward voicemail with a curse under your breath.

Why is Ghost always the first person you call at the first sign of trouble?

Konig is supposed to be the one who protects you, who keeps you safe.

He has to force his jaw open to keep his teeth from grinding.

You’re fucking him, aren’t you?

It’s all making sense now. Of course Konig hasn’t been able to catch you two in the act, the only way you’d be able to get away with it is by keeping it a secret. If anyone found out about your affair you’d both be discharged. Sneaking around and being intimate when no one’s watching, getting off on the forbidden love of a subordinate and a superior.

Konig can fulfill that fantasy too, y’know.

Konig can see your mind racing from your cramped wardrobe, pacing in your spot while you fidget with your nails. There is just enough doubt on your features, just enough doubt that he thinks he might get away with it. Gaslight you into thinking maybe you did buy the dress. Maybe you made a trip back home in between the mall and the subway. Maybe ‘bad vibe guy’ spiked your drink and made you lose a chunk of your evening.

As soon as Konig’s thighs start to burn from the contorted half-squat he’s in to fit in your wardrobe, there’s a knock on the door. You take a sharp breath, head harshly turning towards the sound. You freeze again, lips parted and eyes squinted in unease.

Another rap at the door, followed by your name spoken in a familiar voice. “You in?”

Ghost.

Got your message and came running to your rescue. Tricking you into accepting him as your knight in shining armor.

His face twitches at the way your shoulders relax when you hear his voice, holding back a smile as you rush to open the door.

“Lieutenant.”

Untelling eyes look you up and down, and you follow his gaze to your outfit, almost surprised that you are still wearing that filthy dress you‘ve been parading yourself in.

That’s why you bought it, isn’t it? You picked it out to show your curves off to him, the professor to your little schoolgirl crush.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry Lieutenant. I-”You let out a nervous laugh as you look over his unreadable face. “I didn’t know you were going to, um, stop by.”

Liar.

“Nice dress.” He says, impossible to tell if he’s being genuine or making fun of you. Konig’s not sure which he prefers, but his jaw shakes at the very sound of his voice.

“I just got back from a night out.” You explain, words pouring quickly in a desperate attempt to save character.

“I can tell.” He says, flat and gravely. He gives you grace by changing the subject, eyes peering over you and scanning your room, “Got your message.”

“Oh, yeah. No, it’s uh, it’s probably fine. Sorry to put you out.”

“It was quite the journey from across the hall.”

Your voice raises an octave when you try to sound forced casual, “You didn’t go in my room, did you? It’s just, you’re the only one with a key.”

The thought of Ghost having a key to your place makes him sick to his stomach. He’s probably already been here, already dug through your things to get his filthy hands all over your belongings.

He could sneak into your room at any moment, liebe. Inviting him to break in and take advantage of you.

An eyebrow raises, the extent of his expression, “No.”

Your fingers rub together again, “Are the guys- are they hazing me or something? I mean, it’s fine if they are. I get it, new guy and all- but I just need to know before I lose my mind.”

“What’s going on?” He asks, cutting straight to the chase when he hears the distress creeping in on your rambled words.

You clear your throat, looking over your shoulder, “That dress.” You say, looking to it and trailing off.

“Pretty.” He says, not straying from his uninterested tone.

Konig’s face twitches when Ghost compliments the dress.

It’s not for him.

“Yes- it is.”

“Having a fashion show?”

“No,” You give another timid laugh before your nerves make your face slink. “I didn’t buy it?” You finish on a high, unsure note, “The dress wasn’t here when I left, right? And then I come home - and here’s the dress.”

“An unusual form of hazing.”

“No, no- that’s not the weirdest part.” You point to it again, “I went shopping today, and that dress - I saw the dress, I stopped to look at it. That exact dress. I didn’t buy it, at least- I think I didn’t buy it.” You clench a hand into a fist, “I’m sure I didn’t buy it. I just got home and there it was.”

Ghost doesn’t speak, just looks down his nose at you.

Your hand flops dramatically to your side, head turning away, “You think I’m crazy.”

He says the first thing all night you can tell he means.

“I believe you.”

Your eyes perk up, looking up at him with stars in your eyes. The same way you had looked to Konig in his dream. The same spark of appreciation that Konig was entitled to.

And you’re giving it to Simon fucking Riley for doing the bare minimum.

Konig’s the one who got you the dress, liebe.

Ghost doesn’t give you gifts, Ghost doesn’t love you like Konig does.

He shifts in your doorway, arms crossing and head slightly tilted to the side. “You think someone broke into your quarters?”

“I… guess? I’m more worried that I am losing it. That I did buy it and I just, I just forgot.”

He takes a moment to analyze you, skimming over your nightclub attire before finding your face again, “You drinking?”

You hold a hand out, almost like you’re physically stopping his train of thought, “I know what you’re thinking, I only had two. I’m a lightweight, but, c’mon. Not enough to forget.”

He doesn’t say anything, making his silent judgments through half-lidded eyes.

Your tightly pressed fingers raise to touch your lip.

“Oh, I’m losing it, aren’t I?” You say with a whine, hand falling dejectedly to your side.

“You’re not losing it, soldier.”

“I’m losing it.”

“No. Listen to me.” He uncrosses his arms to hold a finger in your direction, “You’re not losing it.”

Konig can’t believe he’s talking to you like this. Stern, strict, and commanding you like Konig should be doing. Squashing the doubt that would safeguard his plan.

“The boys are probably just fucking with you. I’ll talk to them, yeah?”

You nod, slow at first but then more assuredly, “Yes, yeah.” You close your eyes, words relaxing with a sigh, “You’re right. Sorry, again, for bothering you.”

“No bother.” His head tilts again, “You alright?”

“All-left, apparently.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t want to take your time. I’m okay.”

“I don’t mind.”

Don’t give in, liebe. He’s just looking for an excuse to leer at you in that dress. To come into your sacred room, to get a look at your precious things.

Your eyes flick to the floor before back to him, “Ah, okay. Sure.”

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” You ask when you turn away from him, giving him space to come in.

You’re always so thoughtful. Ghost doesn’t deserve you.

“No.” Ghost steps in while carefully eyeing your room. He inspects your window, nonchalantly checking over the locks before tugging at it to make sure it’s secured.

“No fun Saturday night plans, Lieutenant?” You asked with a cheeky smile, smoothing out your blanket to sit on your bed, feet dangling off the side.

“Not as fun as yours.” He says, eyes falling on your dress and lingering there a little too long for Konig’s liking. Ghost straightens out, leaning against your dresser to face you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, adjusting the sleeve of your shoulder, “A friend dragged me on a night out.” You move to stand, moving towards the dresser Ghost blocked, “Not my usual getup. I’ll change.”

“Don’t feel obligated on my account.” He says dryly.

He doesn’t have your modesty in mind, liebe. Looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. He just wants you on display for him, a trophy.

You look at him, briefly attempting to decipher an underlying meaning of his statement. You glance to the guarded drawers before backing up to your spot on the bed. You tug the bottom of your dress down, eyes fixed on the ceiling as a stiff silence falls over you three.

“My friend, uh, set me up on a blind date.” You say after a clear of your throat, desperate to rid the awkward pause. You give him a small laugh, “It was terrible.”

“That so?”

You kick your foot, smiling at the ground, “Yeah, a friend of this guy she’s really into. All he talked about was basketball, and he didn’t ask me a single question about myself. I don’t think he even knew what my name was.” You roll your eyes, “And a bit too touchy-feely if you ask me.”

Konig’s sorry, liebe. That he wasn’t there to protect you. The thought of you being all alone on a terrible date makes him sick to his stomach. He’s sorry he’s allowed this to happen. He gave you too much slack on your leash, he should have kept you reined in.

“Must be difficult to gauge a woman’s comfort level when NC State is doing so poorly this season.”

You snort, happy to lighten the tension, “They’re actually doing pretty well. 4-1, apparently.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

Ghost gives an amused scoff, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve ever gotten from him. It catches your attention, and to his dismay Konig watches you purse your lips to hide a pleased smile.

Kick him out already.

“My friend ditched me, so I had to sit through all of the strategies the Celtics should have implemented last year, and she never even came back.”

“Mm, abandoned the buddy system. No good.”

“No good! Thank you. I had to walk home in stupid shoes I borrowed that don’t fit.”

“Now that’s just torture. Maybe we should start implementing that in boot camp.”

You deliver the laugh drenched in sarcasm, “Hah hah.”

“Next time, call me. We’ll do a full EVAC.”

That was Konig’s job.

You roll your eyes again, “I can handle myself.”

He gives a shrug and a shake of his head, “Don’t count out the buddy system.”

You pull your legs up on the bed next to you, thighs pressed together and bent almost underneath you. You look like you’re on a fucking casting couch, peering up at Ghost through thick eyelashes with those doe eyes, just begging for him to pin you down and expose what little of you was hidden under that dress.

“You really don’t have to stay.”

His eyes find the blue dress, still hanging on the bedpost, before he looks back to you, “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

The faintest blush spreads on your face, hesitating in your response.

“Smoke?” He asks after a few seconds, much to your relief.

“God, yes. Let me change quick.” You commit to shooing him from your dresser this time, pulling out the first shirt on top. The shirt Konig had touched to his cheek hours before, the unknowing and indirect touch filling him with a satisfying thrill. You grab a pair of sweatpants and disappear into the bathroom, leaving Konig to keep a close watch on Ghost through the crack in his wardrobe.

He starts eyeing your possessions, unworthy eyes befouling your priceless things.

Konig has to close his eyes to rid the sight. Stifling the urge to reveal himself and snap Ghost’s spine over his knee. He hates him, hates how he’s always coercing you from Konig’s safety, sneaking you away for the chance to get his hands on you. He’s never loathed someone more.

You’re just an empty-headed bimbo who bats her eyes and whores herself out for any man who pays attention to you. You’re too stupid to realize just how slimy he is.

Konig opens his eyes with the scrape of your bathroom door, watching Ghost follow you out to the hall.

Konig sighs a long breath once you’re both out of sight, he doesn’t know how long he’s been holding it. His fingers grip your things like he's trying to destroy them.

Fucking Ghost.

At least you changed out of that dress. The way Ghost’s attention drew to your chest and legs at every opportunity left him tensed in a seething rage.

Konig finally moves, taking his chance to stuff your cum-soaked panties and vibrator into his waistband, flexing the fingers that cramped up from his awkwardly clasped hands. He sets the book at his feet, popping his knuckles and stretching his legs while he considers the choice he has to make.

Does he sneak out now? You hadn’t suspected the wardrobe, now that you’ve changed you shouldn’t be digging in your closet until morning. He’s sure he’s sufficiently camouflaged, but there’s still the risk you’ll find him. This is his window to escape without consequence. He’d be able to supervise your smoke break, but he wouldn’t be able to sneak back in to watch the rest of your evening.

It’s the thought that Ghost might follow you back into your room, that he might try to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state, that keeps him in his spot.

Dread pools in his stomach when he’s away from you, knowing you’re under a predator’s stare. He’s probably got his hands all over you right now. He’s seen your thighs that beg for touch, your tits popping out of that dress that invites groping, a waist asking for a strong grip. Flirting desperately and using that charm that comes naturally to invite him to take you.

He’s stealing the attention Konig was owed. Basking in your light and adoration while he has to hide in the shade, longing for your soft warmth instead of this heat of irritability that boils under his skin. He pushes your day clothes from him in frustration, face twitching as he sifts through all of the worst case scenarios.

It takes you too long to return, Konig’s blackhole of obsessive thoughts intensifying with each minute you’re tangled in Ghost’s web.

“I hope not.” You say as you return, the smell of smoked tobacco clouding the room and singeing Konig’s nose.

“Here.”

Konig’s face pulls when Ghost takes the dress from you, manhandling and wrinkling the delicate fabric. It’s nauseating to watch him lay hands on Konig’s gift.

You’re supposed to wear his dress, liebe. Burn that slutty black dress, and accept the guidance you need. Give him even the slightest bit of control from you.

The rejection stings, turning him weak in the knees as the blood drains from his face. It tears his chest wide open watching you give his gift away like it was nothing. His face burns with humiliation, the prick of betrayal drying the back of his throat.

This is what he gets for going out of his way for you? For giving you a token of his affection? For the love and care he’s poured into you?

Fuck you.

You don’t get to make him feel this way. You don’t get to run from him when he knows what’s best for you.

“You want this back when I’m done?”

“Uhm,” You stare at it for a moment, the corner of your lip perking up ever so slightly, “Sure, yeah. It’s uh, it really is pretty.”

Konig swallows, eyebrows pinching and elated grin immediately plastered on his face.

You do like it?

Oh, liebe. He’s sorry he doubted you.

You do want him.

You can be a good girl for him, accept Konig’s redirection. You want to wear his dress for him, you want Konig to own you and teach you how to behave.

He can’t wait to see you in it.

“Will do.”

“Thanks for uh, y’know.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Night Lt.”

“Goodnight.”

When the door snaps shut behind you, Ghost sent packing, and Konig’s grin spreads.

You crawl into your bed, the same bed Konig had defiled hours earlier.

For thirty minutes you scroll on your phone, but Konig is happy just to watch your facial expressions as you react to the things on your screen. You watch silly videos, occasionally giggling at the content.

This part is just for him.

It sounds so wonderful to hear your laugh, liebe. He imagines it’s him making you giggle, a blush and coy smile as a result of a joke he made.

This is his favorite part of the day, when you settle in and he can watch you be your genuine self. It’s comforting to be with you while you unwind, he knows this is what it will be like once he has you, how you’d spend the evenings once you’re together.

And he gets to have his good girl all to himself.

The shower is the hardest part.

In addition to praying the evidence of his shower has fully drained, he knows you’re just a few feet away, completely naked and soaking wet. His cock twitches at the thought, still sensitive from his orgasm.

You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?

Teasing him like this.

He wants to follow you into the shower, see if he can peek at you from over the shower curtain. Offer to scrub you down, groping you like you’ve been asking for. Fuck you, how you deserve to be fucked.

His brow quirks when he spots your phone resting on the nightstand, charging after a long day out.

He waits until the sounds of the water hitting the ceramic loses rhythm, droplets now flowing down your body instead of raining on the tub.

He’s got time.

He takes a deep inhale before working open the wardrobe doors as stealthily as he can, cursing the creak of the wood under his shifting weight.

Mindful footsteps get him to your nightstand, shaking hands picking up your phone. With a push of your lock button the screen is illuminated, and his breath catches. He can’t believe you’ve left your secrets unattended for anyone to steal. How careless of you.

Your background is adorable, he can’t help but smile at the glimpse into an expression of your personality.

He swipes at the screen and his smile falls flat at the demand for a passcode.

Why do you always have to make things so difficult for him?

He huffs in frustration before he locks your device, using the dark screen and light from the lamp to search for fingerprints.

There’s a bunch towards the bottom, evidence of your fingers typing precious messages to your loved ones.

He needed those messages.

Konig thinks he can tell which smudges are your passcode. He’s got 6 possible numbers for a 4-digit code, and no way to tell which order.

He curses under his breath. He’s looking for a pattern. A birthday, a year, a sequence.

He’s got nothing.

You couldn’t have made it 1234?

He returns your phone to its spot. He’ll figure out your passcode, liebe. He’ll wait until he’s close enough to watch you enter it, get his fingers on it when you’re inevitably acting careless.

You don’t get to hide things from him anymore, liebe.

He’s earned it. You’ve lost the privilege of privacy.

This is a new level of immoral behavior, and now that he’s this close - he refuses to distance himself from you.

A rush so thrilling he can’t ignore it, a newly conquered high he’s never dared to risk, without the willpower to walk away from it.

It’s too late for you, liebe. He’s bleeding into you now, his sickness spreading into your life and infecting you like ink on cloth.

You’re his.

You just didn’t know it yet.

His (Part One)

Somethings Borrowed - Another Stalker!Konig Fic

The Girl Who Conquered the Mountain [Hunger Games AU] - Outcast!König x Reader

Meine Perle - Octo!Konig

Masterlist

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animeyanderelover · 6 months ago

Note

This is my second ask

What would Hyuuga Natsuhiko, Minamoto Teru, Wei Liu, Tatsuya Himuro, Reo Mibuchi, Yuuma Isogai, Nagisa Shiota, Tadaomi Karasuma, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, and Tachihara Shunzen( the older brother) with a darling that is nice to everyone else but politely declines to interact with them. Ik there are a lot of characters but could you make it a bit suggestive at the end like when the reader is confronted it's past their breaking point so they aren't down for excuses, it's fine if not! Ty!!

I genuinely think that you are the first person who named me so many characters I have never written for before in one request. Not that you'll see me complaining though.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, threats, guilt-tripping,jealousy, violence,abduction, suggestive themes at the end of some of those

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78

Avoidance

Liu Wei

🟣Surely there must be a massive misunderstanding somewhere, although Liu struggles to decipher what it is that has caused such a rift between the two of you before he even had the chance to get to know you better. It is most misunfortunate, especially since the tall boy is not oblivious to his rapidly expanding feelings for you. Perhaps he has done something to offend you, unintentionally that is due to his lack of knowledge about Japan, or maybe you are just freaked out because of his height. All those excuses are immediately accepted in his mind yet a glaringly obvious thing never once seems to cross his mind. That maybe, just maybe, it is his highly unsettling behavior that has left a lingering bad impression and his refusal to back down only proves that point further. There is no escape from those dark eyes that always spot you no matter what you do or where you try to hide, his height only giving him a bigger advantage to easily find you. There is no escape from him either as you constantly find him trailing after you with that apathetic look on his face and it is quite frightening that he isn't even attempting to defend his actions, his gaze locked on your when you glance at him in disbelief and fear.

🟣His feelings are no secret to Liu but whether he recognises them to be anything potentially obsessive is an entire new chapter after all. In that matter the exchange student finds himself in a rather delusional mindset after all. All is still new for him in this country after all and his feelings fall into the same category, as something new he has to learn and to discover. Gullible as always, he follows the few advices he has gotten from his teammates and parents in multiple attempts to get closer to you and to get to know you better. He follows you around, his eyes constantly try to meet yours and he approaches you whenever he can yet his naivete is abused over and over again as you always decline everything politely and come up with a reasonable excuse on the spot, one he accepts. For a while this seems to work but it doesn't take long for the bitterness to fester inside of him. Dark eyes condemn the people you keep around you as the green-eyed monster known as jealousy awakens inside of him. He doesn't understand what it is they do right that he doesn't and never one to hold back, he finds himself approaching those people boldly and bluntly asking them what it is that they do that he doesn't.

🟣He scares your friends and you know about that yet he clearly doesn't feel a thing. He just wishes you would notice his dedication and earnestness as he tries everything he is told to break the wall between the two of you yet you only pull further and further away from you. The festering feeling only continues growing as he notices how you avoid him, a mixture of continuous heartbreak and flaring frustration spurring his darker instincts on. It may not show on his face as he wears a very neutral expression most of the time but he vents the bitterness out on people around him and your close friends and acquaintances are often on the receiving end of that developing temper of his. It is highly unpleasant as they find themselves as constant victims of his cold glares and harsh words as he expresses his dissatisfaction with the situation at hand. He hates this all, if he has to be very blunt. All he wants is to get to know you better yet you brush him aside every single time and he doesn't even know what it is he has done wrong in the first place. You have to tell him. How is he supposed to know what he is doing wrong? He is in a country that isn't his home and those feelings are new for him too.

🟣You feel rather anxious when you leave school only to find Liu following you one day, not even bothering to hide it. No matter how much you increase your pace, his large steps easily catch up and from the corner of your eyes you can see how he gets closer and closer to you. A huge hand grabs your shoulders and forces you to stop as his deadpan voice asks you if you could give him a moment. There is a growing unease on your mind, your eyes darting around as you try to come up with an excuse yet he cuts you off bluntly, his gaze heavy on your form as he tells you that he will only need a few minutes. Your heart can only pound against your chest as you inspect him warily. There is nothing that could have prepared you for the unexpected horror seeping through you when his lips suddenly smash against yours, his other hand seizing your nape to push your mouth against his own. Dreadful seconds pass before he finally releases you and admits his feelings to you, seemingly unfazed by the forceful kiss he just submitted you to. His eyes are filled with dark determination as he informs you that he intends to be much more direct with his feelings for you from now on.

Himuro Tatsuya

◾️Himuro has had his eyes on you for a while now, long enough to recognise that there is definitely a real interest he has in you. The handsome boy is quite observant of his own feelings though so he will have it figured out soon that an interest is quite understating what is going on in his heart right now. Tatsuya hides his obsession smoothly though as no one would suspect anything. His self-control doesn't mean that he plans to give you up though as he plans to court you and win you over for himself, whether it is because or in spite of his obsession is a blurry line though. The attitude he is met with when he approaches you is rather disheartening though. Tatsuya has observed you for a longer while now and he has observed you long enough to notice the inconsistency in your behavior around him in comparison to other people. You have always been a very kind and open-hearted person but it is glaringly obvious that you choose to avoid him as you always have a polite excuse in store when he is the one who asks for your time. There is a distance you wish to uphold between him and you and whilst it hurts Himuro, he initially tries to see what it is that may have triggered this.

◾️Maybe it is his popularity that has led you to see the need to not interact with him as you may think of him as insincere and a playboy or simply fear potential jealousy that his fangirls may direct at you. If that should be true, he is more than determined to prove you wrong. Aware that he shouldn't be too pushy in order to not come over as desperate nor annoying though, he goes for a more subtle approach. You are always among the first people he greets when he sees you and there are always things like your favorite snacks or drinks he brings with him occasionally to give them to you, especially if it's a rather hot day will he act like your personal vending machine. As a member of the Student Council he always keeps you informed about current updates and often likes to ask for your opinion on subjects, even taking them into consideration. There is a cunning air to it all though as you find yourself being more involved with him, especially when he starts socialising more with classmates and friends of yours. Himuro knows what he is doing though as he spies on you by befriending your own friends, treating them secretly more as a mean to achieve his goal quicker.

◾️There is a sleeping monster made out of envy and insecurity hiding behind his poker face though, one that grows quite restless the more time passes. Anyone else would have already fallen for him or would have at least shown some signs of attraction yet you are still as fleeting as the day he first met you. What is he doing wrong? Nothing, he includes after a good while of self-reflecting. He has done nothing that could have roused your suspicion or that could have made you feel uncomfortable around him. He has always been only helpful and kind to you. With this possibility out of the way, his mind drifts towards another one that has him instantly on edge. Perhaps he hasn't enough for you. It is this idea that fills him with growing jealousy as a bitterness he has always had against naturally talented people appears. He starts cracking and you see that on the day he catches you with Murasakibara, chatting in a carefree manner. You've never done that with him. The shock on your face is evident when he storms over, his normally stoic expression twisted by hurt and anger that he barely manages to swallow down when he reaches you two and separates you two, his heart poisoned.

◾️It is irrational jealousy that leads you into the unfortunate situation of being indirectly betrayed by your own friends whose assistance he requests and they fall easily for his charm as they help to set you two up, unaware of what is about to occur. There are cracks on the surface as his eyes contrast his usual poker face, the growing anger and jealousy almost palpable. It is the very moment you dare to voice yet another excuse that finally makes the thread snap and all the bitterness and anger erupts, clearly visible on his face. His frustration and resentfulness is audible as he asks you what it is that he would have to do to be finally worthy of your time, eyes ablaze as he stares at you. As soon as you take one step back, he takes one forward until you find yourself pressed against the wall. There are tears in your eyes yet he is far too caught up in his own pain to care too much. You don't even get another chance to beg him to let you go as the moment your lips part, he instantly silences you with an impulsive kiss, hands pushing you harder against the wall as he presses himself against your body in a desperate manner, only pulling away when he tastes salty tears, whether they are yours or his he does not know.

Mibuchi Reo

🌃Mibuchi Reo is a rather interesting case as he is simultanously rather uptight yet also quite open about his feelings. Affectionate with the nicknames he chooses to call you by and the infatuated glances he gives you, the moment people like Hayama even dare to point it out to him, Mibuchi becomes rather displeased and quickly starts chastising him with an annoyed glare on his face. He isn't one to deny his own feelings of course but he is rather sensitive when other people point it out to him, especially those he knows would only give him a headache. You see, he is a rather possessive man who would like to hoard you for himself without people constantly interfering and pointing the obvious out. This is only further amplified when he comes to realise that you are quite set on the irrational decision to avoid him no matter what. Your smile is almost, but only almost, as sickenly sweet as his own when he approaches you when you are alone as he feels more inclined to be open about his affection. Very open. You leave him alone rather stunned after the first time as you hurry away without making it look like you are running away, his pointed glare adding to your nervousness.

🌃He does not take it well at all and this is quite obvious to his teammates. He is brooding the entire time, deep in thought as a sigh escapes his lips more than once during training. Hayama and Nebuya use that chance in an attempt to get under his skin by teasing him but they get more than they asked for when normally gentle eyes stare at them creepily as he reminds them with a lopsided grin on his face that he would appreciate it if they wouldn't make fun of his personal problems since he does not appreciate it at all. They keep quiet for the rest of the training whilst he does his best to not dwell on it, at least not during practice with Akashi. He tries his luck again the next day, although much to his dismay he isn't able to catch you alone this time which is why he tones his affection significantly down, although it is still quite obvious to the untrained eye that he is rather besotted with you. Once again he finds himseld being indirectly rejected by you, this time in front of all your friends. It is a blow to his feelings as much as it is to his ego but he forces himself to not show any of his hurt feelings. Not in front of other people. It almost looks convincing if you wouldn't know better.

🌃There is no Reo for you the next few days as he doesn't seek you out but it doesn't really ease your nerves that much. He makes an effort to act fairly normal the following days, although he really has to strain his eyes to not let his gaze wander to you and to immerse himself in sweet, little daydreams. Oh, if only you'd know how much you torment him with your rejection. You truly do not know what you are creating, do you? He can just sense the unease radiating off of you when he catches you all by yourself again, the gentleness in his eyes once again accompanied by this sweetly obsessive glimmer he only shows when he is alone with you. Your heart is pounding as you do your best to politely decline his request once again. Your skin is prickling when his smile twists into something comparable to what you'd see in a horror movie. The silence is crushing you yet he lets you bathing in it on purpose before he suddenly lifts his index finger, not dropping his grin as he stares at you. For a moment you wish he would just chastise you for rejecting him again, to say anything to ease you. You can only fret in cold sweat when he instead leaves you wordlessly as you try to figure out what his gesture just meant.

🌃Days pass by without any incident yet it feels more akin to the calm before the dreaded storm which doesn't allow you a moment of peace. You almost feel tempted to approach Mibuchi yourself and it takes a lot of concentration to stop yourself from begging him to stop. Then he appears behind you nearly a week later and you nearly die of the heart attack you receive when his fingers tentatively grace your sides. The question he asks you in that same sweet tone that day is the same one he has already asked you before and never before have you shot him down faster, barely able to keep your tone steady as you ask him pleadingly to stop his behavior around you as you even bow your head. In hindsight you would have prepared that infatuated expression over the blank coldness on his face when you straighten your back again. You quickly bow out of the situation, or at least try to do so. His long arm reaches for you and tugs you with force back though, the unexpected surprise causing you to stumble against his back. Both of his arms tighten tighten around your form, his face suddenly in the crook of your neck as he takes deep whiffs of your scent before you feel his lips against the skin.

Shibusawa Tatsuhiko

💎Shibusawa has long grown bored of the world and the people inside of it. Nothing surprises nor excites him anymore, his life a dull one where the only thing he can do is collect riches and gifts as a short-lived game to entertain himself with. Your existence finally breaks that gray cycle he has found himself in for years. There is a warm buzz in his heart when he indulges in thoughts of you and a pleasant shudder in his body when he gets close to you, his hands always trying to reach out for you and to touch you to feel that electrical tingle as soon as his skin connects with yours. The excessive habit of his to hoard treasure in various forms extends to you now as well as Shibusawa wishes to hoard and keep you for himself, the most valuable gem he could over possess one that lives and breathes. Obviously he is not blind to the way you always pull away from him when he wants to ask you to spend time with him, the slight discomfort hidden behind your polite exterior glaringly obvious to his trained eye. He could end it all of course as he has all the needed tools at his hands to simply whisk you away within the same hour but he refuses to use them.

💎There is thrill in his chest after all, his heart feeling like it is beating for the first time vigorously in his chest again after years of having fallen into a sad rhythm of boredom. It would be so easy to simply take you but instead Shibusawa decides to play along with the goal to win your heart over through his own effort. He has always the choice to abduct you after all, he can effort to play around and engage in this cute game of yours. Every information he gains, he tries to figure out by himself instead of letting other people do the work. Everything feels much sweeter when he sees it with his own eyes after all instead of only reading it on a white file. His obsession truly yearns to devour everything and he throws himself at every new discovery like a starved animal and in a way his heart and soul are indeed starved. Starved for anything to fill the emptiness, an emptiness you so effortlessly mend and all that without being aware of it. Your dismissive behavior whenever he asks for your time may be a tiny bit disheartening but he is too much in love with the challenge to end everything already. There is so much to learn, so much to discover about you after all.

💎A man of his intellect notices even small details easily, although if he is not someone you like keeping close to you. It deeply unnerves you how much he has picked up on after only a while of knowing you as he can even point out the little habits and ticks of you that you show without consciously being aware of it. The excessive knowledge you think he shouldn't have about you is a faraway cry from what he is feeling. It isn't enough. Tatsuhiko knows that there is still so much left that he doesn't know about you and with each passing day the urge to find out what he hasn't seen yet grows stronger and stronger. It is then that your polite decline every time he suggests that you two could spend some time together starts bothering him. You deprive him of something that is worth more to him than all the gold and jewels he has hoarded somewhere, prevent him from filling the gap in his heart that starts aching the moment your presence disappears. Hollow desperation claws at his chest, something Shibusawa is not used to feel at all and he does not need long before arriving at the conclusion that he does not enjoy this all-consuming emptiness he feels. Perhaps the time has finally come.

💎You have a hard time figuring out how he even found your address when he rings one night on your door and gracefully moves his way around you before you can even think about closing the door. Your body posture is wary and ready to attack until he decides to finally confess all the grief he feels in his heart in disturbing ways as he expresses his morbid desire to strip you of all your secrets because only then will he feel whole again. Unfortunately you want to keep those secrets to yourself and as much fun as this game has been, it is time for him to collect his treasure. You're fully prepared to fight and run away but his reflexes are far too fast as he pulls out a syringe and injects something into your arm. The effects only take seconds to show as you suddenly go down on your knees, your legs losing all of their strength. He drags you to the couch and you can barely gather the strength to weakly flail around before your heaved up. His voice is soothing and calm as he tells you that the effects will disappear after a few hours, his fingers dancing over your body before suddenly starting to remove your shirt gently. A few hours is more than enough time to satiate some of his curiosity after all.

Tachihara Shunzen

🟫A quiet aura and calm expression do not always have to imply that someone is doing well as sorrow and trauma come in various forms. Shunzen's pain is a parasite, one that silently feasts on his flesh on the inside whilst he pretends to be okay on the outside. War does not have winners and losers after all, it leaves everyone with either death or wounds that will never heal, whether those are physical ones or mental ones. Worst of all is that no one would truly understand the horror that has him at times still breaking out in cold sweat, not unless they saw and felt the same horrifying images he had to go through. No one deserves to go through what he went through either so Shunzen hides away the pain, allowing it to rot his flesh away from the inside. His obsession for you is only another bug eating away at him as he does the same thing he has always done since the war ended. Burrying everything that he shouldn't bother others with away somewhere deep inside. Initially it seems to work like it has always done but soon the feeling festers and cracks slowly start to appear within the wall he has carefully built. He doesn't know whether that is a good or a bad thing.

🟫Years of war have made him cautious and warily of his surroundings, have sharpened his senses and given him the ability to assess information at a quicker pace. You do not want to spend time with him for some reason but he knows that it isn't because you are a bad person. He has seen how kind and patient you are with other people, he knows how nice you are to his younger brother from the stories he always tells him about you. Knowing that though bears the question why you single him out as much as you do. Perhaps it is because you have some information about his past as a soldier, it isn't uncommon for former soldiers to end up being made into outsiders. He won't deny that he has done some terrible things but on a battlefield the kind hearts are always the first ones to die as it is either living or dying in a war and he was able to live, thanks to a little girl. He reasons with himself though as he decides to simply stay content for now by observing you and keeping an eye out for you, always alert for any danger that could happen to you at any time. Old habits are hard to shake off after all, especially when they determined whether he'd live to see another day or not.

🟫Initial humbleness to respect your choice fades away with time though as he can feel the obsession crawling around inside his chest, spreading like a virus as it robs him of his control. There is a silent demand echoing around in his head that gets harder to ignore as time passes. He deserves your kindness just as much as everyone else. No, he especially deserves it after the living hell he had to go through. He served and fought for his own country, for people like you. Doesn't he deserve more respect and kindness than that? The desperation tugging at his heartstrings is hard to ignore as those thoughts grow louder and louder inside of his head, almost deafening him at times. Fissures appear all over his heart and mind, forcing the feelings he has been trying to ignore to resurface and clawing at his crumbling walls in demand to be let out. Images flash before his eyes, his ears are ringing and every breath starts stinging as if he has just inhaled smoke. Words are unable to leave his mouth as he seeks you out, hands slightly shaking as his eyes silently beg for you to help him. He needs someone right now and his heart would never settle for anyone else than you. You pretend like you don't see him though.

🟫That's when the wall shatters and everything that has been rotting away in his heart is finally unleashed. He's drowning with each new wave that overcomes him, left alone to navigate through all of it. It doesn't have to be that way though... It shouldn't have to be. Shunzen has always been someone whose character has been almost too dainty for everything he went through but it is only on that night that you see his true self. All of emotions are worn on his face, his feelings raw and bleeding out of his eyes in form of salty tears. Cold sweat is covering every inch of his body, his eyes inspecting you with a newfound desperation as if you are the oasis in the desert. There is a familiar ringing in his ears again, every flicker of light triggering memories of explosions around him. His steps are surprisingly fast for someone who is trembling as much as he does as he reaches out for you, embracing you tightly as your words don't even reach him amongst all the other noises he hears. Guilt stirs awake inside of you only to be dimmed the moment his lips find yours in a messy kiss, his arms pressing you tightly against his body. That's when he finally finds silence within his mind and heart.

Shiota Nagisa

🐍Nagisa is already an individual who is secretly fighting with a low self-esteem as neither his grades have ever stood out nor anything else about him. Even his own mother has expressed occasionally that she has wished for a girl but got a boy instead, although over the years his relationship with her majorly improved. It is this low opinion that has been installed into every crevice of his body that prevents him from daring to get any closer to you initially. Your kindness is what has always attracted him to you yet he fears that he might become the exception. There is no valid proof for this thesis of his but the anxiety is a chain that binds nevertheless. The blue-haired boy is always found around you but never with you. Skills he has learned from his precious sensei are used to stalk you and so skillfully that no one even notices. Nagisa blends in effortlessly, hides from your sight even if he might be closer than you would ever be comfortable to find out. He's in trees, bushes or even trailing right behind you as he enjoys your smile and your laughter from a safe distance. It is a needless torture he subjects himself willingly too though as his longing for you only grows the longer he stalks you.

🐍It takes a lot of courage from is part and fillip from his friends before he finally decides to ask you if you would like to hang out with him. Multiple times he has found himself standing close to you only to shy away in the last moment when your gaze met his. In hindsight it would have been better for his sanity if he would have done the same again. Lots of things would have been better than seeing the look in your eyes when he asks you if you'd like to go on a date with him. The surprise, the pity and then the guilt as you already know your answer. No amount of politeness from your side could soften the blow as a heart far too fragile for someone with his skills is shattered into little pieces. There is a telling stinging in his eyes as he mumbles an apology for having bothered you before he disappears, the pain he is in in that moment indescribable. He shouldn't have expected anything else though. This was bound to happen. What was he even thinking in the first place? He is not everyone after all. Days fly by as he doesn't show himself in front of you anymore. He fears that he would break down again if you were to spot him and give him that same pitying look.

🐍His stalking tendencies increase though as a result of avoiding you directly. It doesn't save him from the pain but it is preferable to the other option. Insecurities only heighten as he wonders every day and night what other people have that he doesn't only to beat himself down as he knows that others have always stood out more than he did. That hasn't changed even after graduating middle school. Even as he tells himself this over and over again though, the pain still stays. Jealousy has rarely been something that can be simply ignored after all as Nagisa knows what it is his heart wants. Why can't you spend some time with him? What would he have to do? He can change himself for you if you want him to! Caught up in his won desperation, he is too blinded to realise that it is this toxic mindset that only pushes you farther away from him. It is quite the dangerous game both of you are playing, although you are the one who is in the most danger. You see Nagisa cracking and crumbling, wonder if it is only your anxious imagination that sometimes catches glimpses of him as you walk around outside. A tiny part of you feels horrible but your fear is stronger than your guilt.

🐍That is how you awake one night abruptly, you initially don't know why yourself. Much to your horror when you turn on the bedside lamp, you find Nagisa standing at the end of your bed, staring at you with a foreign gleam in those blue eyes. You want to let out a scream but you are barely able to open your lips before he's suddenly kneeling above you, one of his hands muffling the sound of your scream. Your body goes deadly rigid when you stare directly into those empty eyes, barely recognising Nagisa as it almost looks like he is a different person now. His voice is quiet yet eerily intense as he warns you to keep quiet as he removes his hand from your mouth. You barely dare to breathe when he withdraws himself from your form, your heartbeat playing a frightened melody in your chest. You're too afraid to even look at him as you gaze at your sweaty palms before his voice speaks up again. The more vulnerable and shaking tone he uses sounds much more like the person you know as he asks why you had to always ignore him. You don't get to answer though, darkness flooding your vision as he knocks you out. A pair of warm lips is the last thing you feel before passing out.

Isogai Yuma

🟤Even when Yuma spent his time being made into an outsider during middle school, his kind and considerate nature never faded away throughout it all as he instead made new friends he still keeps in contact with years later. It is the warmhearted nature in you that attracts him to you as well as he admires you. Always honest and staying true to your feelings, you never miss out to express your own opinion and emotions clearly without losing your head. Yuma is quite content to just watch you for a while, his admiration steadily growing as he sees more and more of your heart you openly carry on your sleeves. Soon he finds himself longing for more than to just simply observe you throughout your day at work. Unlike his former blue-haired classmate though, Isogai goes through no such troubles as a low self-confidence. Instead he approaches you kindly and welcoming, acting on his wish to get to know you better and to spend more time with you. There are no signs that he is pushing anything though as he knows that he shouldn't force any more meaningful relationship on you as your consens is something he values which is why he wants to see how you feel about him.

🟤Isogai is no fool though and soon it becomes obvious that this is getting nowhere. You never attempt to deepen the relationship between the two of you beyond the one of friendly co-workers who can chat throughout the day. Taking notice of that, Yuma decides to switch positions and to be the one who tries the first step. He asks you out when both of you are alone, realistic yet distracted by his beating heart. You can only give him an apologetic smile as you decline his offer and merely tell him that you feel flattered but do not have the time and interest to think about a serious relationship. Yuma can only do his best attempts to hide his hurt feelings but respects your decision nevertheless. Somehow he expected such a reply from you for some reasons. As much as it hurts him to admit, it is quite obvious that your interest in him has always been rather limited and you only find yourself spending that much time with him because both of you work together in the same job as often as you do. There is a clear line you have drawn though, one that doesn't want him as anything more than the acquaintance at work. A decision that isn't all that welcming in Isogai's eyes.

🟤He has always been quite beloved with the ladies and he still is but he has never allowed himself to think of him as something better just because he looks good and has the considerate and gentle character to match his appearance. With everything that is going on involving you though, he starts wondering what exactly it is about him specifically that has you acting so uptight. After all you do not have the same problem with other people you work with or call your friends. No, it is only him and it is a terrible feeling to see how everyone is given your kindness yet he is the only one who is somehow left behind. He has been trying to get some answers from you, hasn't given up to ask you every once in a while after hoping that you have had enough time to consider and forget but your answer in its core has never changed, only the excuses you use. Something sparks within him every time you give him a new excuse to avoid him as politely as possible and it slowly alters him. No, rather it adds something that he has never felt or thought before. It is new and frightening but feeds off of his growing frustration and confusion every time another lie leaves your lips.

🟤Yuma finds himself eventually doing something he has never done before. He actively uses your friends to his advantage to get a chance to have time with you alone as he just wishes to talk to you without running away. They are easily charmed by him and whilst a part of him feels guilty, another part of him has gotten quite relentless. The betrayal in your eyes is hard to miss when he appears whilst your friends drag you somewhere only to leave you as soon as he is there, their giggles fueling your anger as they are oblivious to the situation. Through gritted teeth you excuse yourself as you turn around with every intention to leave only to be left perplexed by his fast movements as he blocks the path before locking the door, throwing the key away. his eyes have lost part of their kind glow as he reminds you that he just wishes to talk to you. There is a tension surrounding you which differs from the normally warm aura that is always where he is. When you slowly back away from him, his hands suddenly grab your arms and panic trails up and down your spine, the air turning even more prickly, clearly out of patience by now. Sit down and calm down. He just wants to talk with you.

Karasuma Tadaoi

⬛Karasuma has one notable weakness and that is his terrible density. Clearly he hasn't even grasped the full extent of his emotions for you yet even if he is already acting on them. His eyes are always on you the moment he enters his field of vision and he never really lets you out of his sight the moment that happens either. His entire exterior is quite tough and intimidating so under his gaze you always feel rather pressured but are too nervous to speak up. Eventually he always takes notice of your growing fear and withdraws his gaze, his eyebrows furrowed as he wonders what just overcame him to stare so indecently at you for such a long time. There is no denial that he catches himself multiple times more staring at you. As an agent, a highly respected one at that, he has a considerable amount of influence and power and partially he uses that, although he does not see the malicious intentions behind it. He likes to keep tabs on you, although you are neither a threat nor are you in any danger. Karasuma himself has a hard time understanding yet why he is doing all of that. If he had to make an accurate guess though, it would probably be that it helps him to feel more relaxed.

⬛He isn't as ignorant to never figure it out though. Somewhere along the line is the realisation that he has feelings for you, although he must admit that the extent of those feelings is rather concerning. He keeps a distance from you after he has solved the puzzle finally, doesn't try to get involved with anything that involves you all in an attempt to rid himself of those dark urges. For the first time he is stuck in a situation where he can't do something even if he puts his mind to it though. There is shame and frustration swirling around all within him as his focus is dwindling much to his annoyance. Eventually he has to come to the realisation that nothing good will come out of all of this and that instead the most convenient way seems to do what he has been doing before, only that now he should actually try to make an effort to get to know you better. He is dressed well when he finally approaches you, his mind focused as if this were a mission. If he is hurt or surprised when you decline his offer for a shared cup of coffee together, he doesn't show it. His face doesn't give anything away and somehow that only makes you more anxious as you have no way to read him or his current thoughts and feelings.

⬛It is quite hard for Karasuma to decipher how exactly he feels after your rejection. He wonders if it was his own fault as he has been told quite often before that he has a rather intimidating appearance and even if he is dense when it comes to love, he is rather skilled to spot the signs of anxiety and stress your body shows when you are aware that his presence is close, even if you try to be polite about it all. Pinning this down as the problem that has to be solved, Karasuma approaches everything still with the efficiency as if it would be an important mission. He determines what you like and what he can do to have you feel more at ease when around him. There is a lot of effort and even you can sense that as he tries to soften his expression when around you and rids his voice of any overly harsh tone when he talks to you. Still, your decision to not get involved deeply with him seems to stay the same and for the first time in his life he finds himself annoyed by someone else's professionalism. He knows that he has no right to force you into anything with him yet there is a growing possessive urge within him, one that only gets fueled every time you avoid him again.

⬛When you receive an order for him as he wishes to see you in his office, your heartbeat goes almost through the roof as the tension between the two of you has been nothing short of suffocating since a longer while now. Still, orders are orders and so you find yourself sitting in his office after a while. The silence is thick enough that you could cut it with a knife if you had one as he just sits in front of you, dark eyes inspecting you whilst he lets you soak in the heavy tension. Then, out of the blue with unfiltered words, he expresses his interest in you. You nearly choke on the air. Obviously you have had suspicions of your own but you never expected Karasuma of all people to be so direct about it. The not so romantic confession is immediately followed by a request for you to be officially his. At this you find yourself in utter shock as you thought that you had made your opinion already quite clear. Even if he is your superior, you have no intention to keep quiet about this. At least those are the plans until both of his hands smother you suddenly, his gaze darker than you remembered as he corrects himself. This was no request. This was a demand.

Hyuuga Natsuhiko

🔴Natsuhiko's motives have always been on the more dubious side as he seems to choose his sides based on the shallow reason of what interests him at the moment. This seems to align nicely with his motives for hanging out with you initially. You just happen to have caught his interest and Natsuhiko is rather persistent with his attempts to get to know you. Your declines and rejections are rather familiar to him by now as he has already asked you countless times for your time and dates yet he is always met with the same polite smile as you once again put him down. It is quite hard to determine whether to feel pity for him for being such a perpetual fool or for you as you are the one suffering from such a dense admirer of yours. It all may seem harmless at the surface but feelings have already begun to blossom in Natsuhiko's chest as his interest in you only deepens in spite of your clear demeanor that you hold no interest in him that would go any further than suggesting that both of you are something more than classmates. If it would have been anyone else, they would have probably given up by now. Natsuhiko isn't everyone else though and his obsession only pushes him to go further.

🔴So obsessed is he in fact that your sugar-coated words of rejection do not even bother him much anymore. He desires your attention above anything else, no matter how minimal it may be. Whenever you reject him, you pay attention to him. You give him that deceptive smile that still looks beautiful even though he is aware that it isn't sincere and your gaze is focused on his. Whether you share his mindset or not, in Hyuuga's mind in those moments you belong completely to him as you never pay as much attention to him as in those moments. His heart is always beating inside his chest after such moments as he yearns for your attention again. He regularly confesses to you after that to savor that sweet moment where he is all you focus on yet unfortunately this feeling passes too fast for him to fully indulge in it. This is the main reason why he increases his clingy antics by a lot as he yearns for more attention from you. There is always a rather nonchalant air around him when he follows you around, seemingly indifferent to the fact that you can clearly see him. Even confronting him about his creepy behavior doesn't deter him the least as he instead gets excited that you look at him.

🔴Do not think that he is oblivious. He might appear lazy at times but he isn't as stupid and sleezy as some may believe him to be. Of course he knows that his behavior would scare some and he clearly notices that it gets under your nerves too. It's just that he doesn't really care about it that much as long as you give him the attention he desires, even if it is negative one. In fact you only encourage him to keep going if you turn around as it confirms to him that he can gain your focus if he annoys you by following you around and always watching you. Despite his grander knowledge of the current situation, Natsuhiko does like daydreaming about you when he has the time, especially when he can watch you and you either ignore him or haven't noticed him yet. Just maybe there is a slice of delusion somewhere within him as he does believe that those daydreams will be reality one day. He just has to make sure that you focus on him more. Much more than you are doing now as your mind is still filled with school and other things. His mind on the other hand is clouded with everything involving you and he would appreciate if you would think about him as much as he thinks about you.

🔴Ultimately it is simply not enough for him. The scrappy slivers of attention from you are far from what he truly desires and it only gets worse because he sees everyday how willingly you give other people the attention and affection he would like for himself. A reckless decision pays off though when he manages to convince Tsukasa ro assist him so that he can have you for himself without your friends or anyone else around. There are no ulterior motives though as he doesn't even intend to pressure you into a relationship with him. He might do that another time. For now he is just relishing in the fact that there is only you and him, his heart pounding with giddiness even as you ask him what just happened and where everyone else has suddenly gone. His eyes drink it all in though, your slight fear that you hide behind a courageous mask as you confront him and demand this time to know what just happened because clearly Hyuuga is in on something that you aren't. So close. You are so close to him, your eyes glaring at him yet your poor attempts to intimidate him do the complete opposite as his excitement gets the better of him and lips clash against your own in a reckless and messy kiss.

Minamoto Teru

💛By all accounts, Teru has his hands rather full. He is the president of the Student Council, always ranks first amongst all students in school and then there is also his secret occupation as an exorcist that most students do not know about. There are lots of duties loaded on his young shoulders yet he manages to do them all and still makes time for you. He is not one to deny his feelings because even if he would, he isn't sure if he could with the way they have already spun out of all control. An obsession is the last thing he would have expected to happen to him yet here he is as all of his thoughts and feelings suddenly revolve around you as if you were the sun. Credit is given where credit is due though, he hides it exceptionally well behind his normally calm and kind attitude. Secretly he likes to keep an eye out for you though as he is most familiar with the supernatural lurking around every corner of the school which does give him a strong protective vein that is at times hard to ignore, especially when he senses something that is dangerously close to your classroom. There is more attention he gives you as time passes and the initial shock melts away and he slowly starts embracing his obsession.

💛It is around the same time that he starts considering that he should start to seriously woo you. Now that the shame and guilt have been replaced by a gradual acceptance of his feelings, the possessive core of his starts acting up ever so slightly. Teru knows that he would never get over it if someone else were to date you and whilst he isn't just yet sure how exactly he would react, he can already tell that it wouldn't be pleasant. Better prevent a problem before it can even happen rather than fixing it. As much as he doesn't want to be conceited about his reputation, he goes into this all with a fair amount of confidence. He works hard and it always shows after all. As polite as you may try to be though, you aren't fooling Teru. He has perceptive eyes that notice the little twitches in your face and the way you fidget with your hands when he is around you. For reasons he is not sure about yet himself, his presence makes you uncomfortable. The signal you give out silently whenever he asks if he can walk you home or if you'd like him to help you with schoolwork due to his exceeding grades is obvious. You do not wish to get to know him any better and would prefer to keep your distance.

💛He must say that he is rather hurt as he realises this. The worst about it all is that Teru doesn't even know what it is exactly that has caused you to feel this way about him to begin with. There have been moments where he has asked you very subtly if there is something that you don't like about him but he has never gotten the answers he has hoped to receive. If he doesn't know what is wrong, he can't fix it after all. It isn't like him to simply give up of course and he still does his best to figure out what he can do to get you to trust him more but your heart seems as unmovable as a mountain as your opinion seems to have been already decided a long time ago. This does frustrate him eventually as he wonders what he has ever done to you for you to be so unwilling to even give him a chance. Nothing persuades you and gradually his heart gets venomed with dark feelings that start festering alongside with his growing frustration and pain. What is it that he is doing wrong? His young heart gets corrupted eventually as he goes through his first heartbreak with your continuous rejections. A dangerous feeling of anger sparks within him. He is not going to play the part of the hopelessly lovesick fool with you.

💛For the first time he abuses the authority he has as he uses his position as the president of the student council to lure you to his side, all by yourself. He can already tell that you are not exactly thrilled to be here but that's alright. After today things will be different after all. You don't look overly surprised when Teru confesses his feelings to you, only a tired look on your face as you prepare yourself to let him down again. Only that he stops you by lifting his hand and stating that he knows already that you don't feel the same way he does. Confusion and the tiniest spark of hope fill you that maybe he has finally understood but it is quickly snuffed out when his his normally kind expression loses its warmth. There is a certain emptiness to his gaze that makes you uneasy as he asks you why you push him so vehemently away, blue eyes demanding an answer from you. There is no reply from you though, causing him to let out an ominous sigh as he steps closer, hands seizing your shoulders to stop you from moving away. He admits to you that he is tired of waiting for you and wants to take everything into his own hands before he leans in, his lips brushing over your own before traveling down your neck.

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bonefall · 6 months ago

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What are your thoughts on Crowfeather's Trial? I already know how you feel about my other least favorite super editions so I'm curious about your opinions on this one lol

I think at best it's just okay. Like...it feels like they're going "see!! We're holding him accountable!!" But then they just kinda...dont?? Like I didn't feel any differently about Crowfeather by the end than I did when I started. There's parts I like about it but overall it just fell flat for me

Like how am I supposed to like this guy when he's just constantly a dick?? he can't stand Harespring for some reason, there's a moment where he's like "I wish my son was dead" and when Nightcloud goes missing he barely gives a damn and doesn't bother to even try and look for her

Anyways I'll forever be mad that they gave this guy a whole super edition and he'll probably have the most dramatic death ever while Leafpool suffered her entire life (and afterlife) and got killed off screen. Hoping he gets jumped by rats and dies from infection

I'm not a big fan of it. It's one of the better written SEs and has a clear goal in mind, but every time I have to encounter it, it feels like it's sidelining the characters who actually deserve to be explored in favor of Crowfeather Sadboy Whinging.

Breezepelt has 12 books detailing how being mistreated by Crowfeather is making him worse, and showing that social alienation is pushing him towards the Dark Forest. Nightcloud was demonized by the old team even though they wrote Crowfeather deflecting all the blame of Breeze's behavior onto her, giving the new team a great opportunity to correct the mistakes of the old writers... and they decided to focus on Crowfeather instead.

And, mind you, they conveniently leave out massive details about how BADLY Crowfeather was abusing his child.

There's this one part of the book where he learns that Breezepelt broke his leg as a kid and he feels like shit for not remembering it, and it's supposed to be a big moment where Crowfeather realizes he was apathetic and careless. But he WASN'T just apathetic and careless. We see him TEACHING his child xenophobia in order to mock and offend Leafpool, smacking Breezepaw around for being 'rude' (the way Crowf always is), and screeching at him for having basic needs like hunger or rest.

Crowfeather WASN'T just a sad, sad boy who didn't pay attention to his kid because he was too busy pining over Dead Wife. What he did to Breezepelt wasn't just neglect; it was physical and emotional abuse.

The book DOES ultimately hold him responsible for how Breezepelt turned out, yes. But it doesn't properly focus on WHAT made Breeze come out the way he did. It wasn't genes, it wasn't Daddy Not Smile At Me. I can only assume the reason why they didn't address how ghoulish Crowfeather actually was is because they knew that being honest and direct about him abusing his child would make him unsympathetic.

Which is a problem, because, y'know, you can just make it Breezepelt's Trial and NOT have to thread that needle??

And furthermore... the book is trying to show Crowfeather addressing that he's kind of an asshole and moving on from it, earning deputyship as a reward for his growth, but what the book really demonstrates to me is that Crowfeather is a dickhead who actually shouldn't have ANY power at all. I don't understand why people would trust him or want him as their leader. I don't see any reason to think that he would be responsible with the lives of an entire Clan of people.

Before I hear clown shoes; if you think that means I "just don't like" that he would be an ""interesting leader,"" pile yourself back into the car with your 30 other jesters and drive away. I mean that it feels completely wrong that any character in-universe would look at the person who exists in Crowfeather's Trial, and say, "this is a person who would help me effectively rule."

What he does, all-book-long, is show that he's an emotionally unstable loose canon borderline incapable of self-reflection. Other characters have to directly tell him "you should try being less of an asshole" and "maybe be nice to your family sometimes?" while he comes up with bullshit reasons to seethe at every character who wanders into his line of sight.

I massively resent the fact that even Leafpool has to mommy his baby ass towards the end of the book. After he spends a good part of Po3 and OotS finding roundabout ways to snipe at her for not giving him exactly what he wanted. It falls on HER to be the one he can ask for advice on how to fix the family he treated like shit his whole life.

no that's not hyperbole she literally. textually. is compared to his mother.

and he can't even be gracious about it, he's instantly all huffy and offended, completely proving her point. Why the hell would anyone make this guy a deputy? The man needs TWO motherly figures giving him the exact same basic advice and a dedicated super edition before he adjusts his behavior even slightly.

(watch him get Boring Leader Syndrome the minute he inevitably becomes Crowstar, too)

Sooo, in a nutshell;

It's one of the better SEs. unfortunately.

Crowfeather is held accountable for being the problem in his own relationships, thank god

but it doesn't fully hold the actions we SAW in the main series books accountable, seemingly purposefully leaving out the worst things he did.

Another WC book where a male character gets an insane amount of sympathy and rewarding that female characters are NEVER deigned deserving of.

Should have been Breezepelt's story. I strongly dislike how Breeze's "redemption" was based on his shitty dad saying sorry. He deserved an actual character arc struggling with ever trusting WindClan again after they took his dad's judgement about him at face value.

Absolutely awful that Leafpool is killed between books and given a trial where they consider sending her to hell when they finally DO get around to showing how she died, while Crowfeather gets an SE about the whole world holding his hand so he can fix the family he broke in 5 easy steps.

Its biggest problem is that it is about a character whose actions you can go and read about. It doesn't deliver on the setup of 12 books of Crowfeather being an absolute git; it's a good story for the version of Crowfeather the new team seems to have created in their heads.

Doesn't stop me from manifesting him getting an infection and having a Sandstorm-tier disrespectful death in the upcoming series, lmao.

#warrior cats analysis

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noparadiseinthis · 3 months ago

Text

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 3:

Because all living things disappoint us on some level

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Series masterlist here

Warnings: explicit domestic violence and abusive relationship. Descriptions of physical violence. Mention of miscarriage (doesn't happen). Marital rape (nothing too explicit, but there are some descriptions of the moment). Reader is married and has a child. Dissociation as a way of coping.

Summary: You reflect on your life choices in recent years while Spencer drops a bomb on you that shatters your illusions of comfort. How good a mother are you being? You scrub the dirt off your body in the shower, but it never comes off.

Your world has stopped several times during your life. The first time Steve shouted at you and showed that he could be aggressive, the first time he did more than shout, but especially when you held that positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands and lost all sight of the horizon.

You were already 8 weeks pregnant, and for the next 7 months, you had to learn to share your body with a little creature that slowly grew on you in every way. You thought you were broken when you didn't feel that mother-child connection, long nights awake wondering what was wrong with you. It was only the first time you felt Will move inside you that you realized how real it was. From then on, that protective instinct began to develop.

What you were ashamed to admit was that you only really loved him when you fell down the stairs and there was so much blood around you and as you lost and regained consciousness, Steve's face wandering above you in an ambulance, all you could think was "if there is a God, don't let anything happen to my baby". When you woke up in the hospital without knowing how much time had passed, you felt an emptiness inside you, and the nurse found you crying copiously, certain that you had suffered a miscarriage. That's when you found out that your baby was a boy, and reading one of your thousands of poetry books for college, you decided what to name him. A college you never finished, by the way.

When they placed him in your arms for the first time, bawling and with tearful little eyes wide open, wishing to go back to the comfort of your womb, where everything was safe, you hugged him tightly against your chest, wishing you could do the same thing while swearing in your thoughts that you would never let him be affected by his father's behavior, and under Steve's delighted gaze at the baby you had made, you almost thought things could be different. When you were discharged from the hospital with a list of foods for iron deficiency, you didn't bother to explain to the doctor that the bruises on your arm weren't due to a lack of iron.

"Hey, can you hear me? I need you to focus on my voice." Spencer said, loud enough to get his attention, but not so loud as to alert William.

He blamed himself for throwing you into this state, immediately recognizing the signs of dissociation. He knew he should have approached the subject with more caution, but for a moment, he felt that any chance he had was slipping through his fingers. How traumatized were you to already be conditioned to disconnect from reality when it knocked on your door?

Gradually, your breathing steadied as you realized where and with whom you were, blinking to stare at the worried face in front of you, the man's frown deepening as he analyzed you carefully. You were immediately mortified, looking away as you swallowed and remembered the original subject of the conversation. Will. You took a deep breath, glancing briefly at your son to regain your strength before turning your attention to Dr. Reid.

"Are you all right?"

You could only nod. "What... What were you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause that reaction. Is that common?"

You hated the way you felt like a patient in a doctor's office, and you had to suppress the urge to hug yourself for comfort. There was nothing wrong with you. Right?

"Please... Dr. Reid." You added your title as an afterthought, hoping it would do something for his request.

And so, he agreed to ignore one of the many elephants in the room, just as he ignored the nail mark on your arm and your blank stare.

"It was something he told me when I was bringing him here. He told me he ran away because you two were starting..."

"Starting?"

"I hadn't understood either, but then I got here and I knew. He sees you fighting." Could it be called a fight when you never fought back? "He knows what happens at home, maybe not everything, and I hope not, because these things are never good for a child's upbringing, but he can already tell there's something wrong. Children aren't as naive as their parents think, he'll only realize it more as he grows up."

Proudly, you swallowed and straightened your back, hiding the little dried blood on your arm by pressing it against your stomach. "I don't know what you think is going on, Dr. Reid, but there's nothing for him to notice."

Spencer sighed, not understanding exactly where his denial was coming from, considering that he had already seen the violence firsthand. Still, he noticed how your eyes showed anguish and regret for the first time, unconsciously making his profile. You felt you had failed as a mother, and you were ashamed to expose it.

"Willy, darling, it's time to go, okay?" You spoke up, drawing your son's attention.

Once again, Spencer felt like he was doing a bad job, his left hand twitching next to his thigh as he thought about how this could be the last time he would see you. And of everything that could happen to you and your son if you never managed to break out of this cycle of abuse.

"Can we go to the park?" The childish, bored voice asked, walking up to you with his phone in his hand.

With a glimpse, Reid realized that it seemed to be some kind of educational game about dinosaurs. A quiz where you had to guess the name of the dinosaur that appeared on the screen.

"Not today, love, you know you shouldn't have run away from me. Maybe tomorrow, if you behave."

"Whatever," William muttered sulkily, kicking up invisible dust. "Bye, Dr. Reid."

"Bye, buddy." Spencer said, his voice much softer as he crouched down and raised his hand for a goodbye high-five, which brought a smile, albeit a small one, to the child's face.

With impressive agility, he stood again, staring at your face for what seemed like long seconds before finally asking. "Am I going to see you again?"

Answering was more painful than you'd like to admit. "I don't think so. Goodbye, Dr. Reid."

Picking up your bag from the table, you turned to leave, holding your son's hand.

"Does he like dinosaurs?" Spencer asked, still unwilling to allow you to leave. Unwilling to admit that he was scared.

You turned around, frowning before nodding, a confused look on your face.

"I saw the game on your cell phone." He admitted, looking a little shy as he did so. "It's just... there's a traveling park. They're going to be in town for one day in three days. Admission costs 10 dollars. You should really consider going... You never know... who you might meet after you've thought it through."

"I don't know if I'll have time for that."

This time, Spencer didn't stop you. You didn't see when he noticed the zipper of your bag open. Dangerous, but convenient. You didn't see when he took a card out of his pocket and threw it in. You only heard when he exclaimed, "Your bag is open!" Because he wasn't a bastard who would let you walk around with more risk of being robbed. He watched you walk away wishing deeply that you'd decided to go to the park after all. He would be there, regardless of any decision.

When he returned to his meeting, Spencer made little eye contact and mumbled some lame excuse about taking questions from a policeman when they mentioned how long it took him. He didn't see how Morgan's gaze remained on him for much longer.

•••

Steve could have been in several moods today and you knew them all. The most likely was aggressive. William would have to go to bed early while you suppressed any moans of pain and any crying so as not to alert your son. He was often the passive-aggressive one, pointing out all your little mistakes without caring if it made you cry. When he fought with you, however, it was very rare that he came home being the loving Steve. You knew what it meant; he wanted to get into your pants, but today, you were too exhausted for that.

Even so, when he played with Will in the living room, when he complimented you on your food when he came up behind you while you washed the dishes and wrapped his hands around your waist while placing kisses on your neck, you pretended that you and your son were loved.

"You look so beautiful today." He whispered against your ear, one of his hands going down to explore the inside of your thigh. "Driving me crazy."

"Steve!" You exclaimed softly. "Will will notice." Will noticed a lot of things, you reminded yourself, and quickly pushed the thought away.

"It's past his bedtime." You didn't even know that Steve knew his son's bedtime. "I'll send the boy to bed and we'll finish this, what do you think?" One of his hands slid to your throat, and your head instinctively went back, resting on your husband's shoulder.

He interpreted her silence as the only answer he needed, whispering in a thick voice, "That's right, kitten," before slapping her ass and leaving to put William to bed. Leaving you there with a lump in your throat as his fingers tightly gripped the last plate you had just washed, and you tried to pull yourself together.

•••

"Damn, you're so pretty," he said, pulling you under him on the bed as he showered your face with kisses and made you tingle. "I'm sorry about today, darling. You know I'm sorry, don't you?" he asked, taking your arm gently and kissing the wounds softly. You just nodded. "This would never have happened if you hadn't been so absent-minded, but still... I feel so bad."

You lost yourself in his almost loving words, his soft kisses, and the tender, careful touch on your skin, the weight of him above you seeming pleasantly welcome after such a long time. You missed it so much... feeling like you were in a normal relationship. Somehow, he always convinced you to let go of any transgression.

It was only when he pressed his erection against your thigh and growled in your ear, "I can't wait to fuck you tonight," that you realized exactly what you were getting into.

"I'm so tired." You murmured against his lips. "Tomorrow, please?"

Suddenly, the grip around your waist was much more oppressive, almost painful, revealing his true intention: to restrain you.

"But you had me so worried today," he said, in that annoying tone as if he were talking to a child, then he cracked a smile that gave you goosebumps, "Aren't you going to make it up to your husband?"

The hand that went to the side of your neck reminded you of how much you disliked what happened when you tried to reject him. Feeling so small, you nodded.

From then on, you hardly noticed the dirty, possessive things he whispered and growled in your ear, his strong grip that would leave bruises all over your body and the brutal way he penetrated you. No, you kept replaying that conversation in your head, wondering if Will could hear them from his room. You remembered that article you read a while back, that listening to parents having sex causes effects similar to sexual abuse in a child. How children who grew up in violent homes were more likely to be violent or suffer abusive relationships. Spencer Reid's voice never left your head, filling you with guilt for all sorts of reasons.

When Steve fell beside you on the bed, pulling out a condom that you had not noticed he had put on - but felt grateful for - you no longer knew who you were. This morning, you were a good mother. Now, not even that. When you got into the shower, Steve didn't even bother to go after you and when you scrubbed your skin until it was red, crying quietly and feeling like the dirtiest person in the world, trying to get any trace of him off your body, he rested with a clear conscience in bed. The weight of what had just happened finally hit you and you suppressed the urge to vomit as you realized that you had been used once again.

As you lay on the bed, you allowed Steve to pull you against him; you allowed him to wrap his arms around your body as if he were some kind of protector, and when he kept whispering things like "You're only mine", you agreed. Because, after all, what else could you do?

Staring at the ceiling, you remembered the first time he pushed you and how he clung to you afterward, begging forgiveness as he cried and said he didn't know how to be different from your own father.

"Hmm... Lovie?" You asked softly, trying hard to stay calm.

"Yes, darling?" he mumbled, being roused from a light nap.

"There's going to be a dinosaur park in town in a few days. Can you... can you give me the money to take Will?"

You finally realized that you didn't want to be like your mother.

Taglist (if you want in or out, just let me know):

@yokaimoon @fanfic-viewer @v1ckycheesue @mynameiskelly @pacmil

#angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #come away o human child

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