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delightfuldevin · 9 months ago
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So I’ve been attempting an all visual upgrades run (using this post as reference) and it’s SOOOO HAAAAARD
This is my best attempt so far though!!
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I got the base form of 6/7 changes, and fully upgraded 4/7!! Funny thing is, I didn’t even mean to do it this time, I just wanted to do one of those super-fast-never-run-out-of-ink roller runs and I noticed that I was getting so many visual changes so I decided to go for it again
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i-cant-sing · 6 months ago
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Time Traveller AU part 7
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Part 8 is here!
"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.
You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.
No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?
No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.
You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.
"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."
"What? No. I'm coming with."
"Have you lost your mind?"
You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.
"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."
"But I-"
"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.
Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.
"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.
"I think you're overreacting a bit-"
"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.
"I want Isabella."
"No."
"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"
"No."
"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"
"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.
"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"
"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."
-
"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.
"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.
"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"
You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.
"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."
Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"
You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."
-
Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.
"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"
"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."
"We can have it fetched-"
"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.
"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.
"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."
"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.
He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."
"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.
"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.
Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.
"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"
"Anything?"
"Anything." He assured her.
"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.
As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.
"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.
Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.
You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.
The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.
"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."
"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-
He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.
"Well? Hand it over."
"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.
Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.
"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.
Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.
"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"
You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.
It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-
"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-
A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.
You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.
Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.
Assassin.
"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.
The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.
"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.
The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.
"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.
As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.
You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.
Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.
Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.
And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-
You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.
You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.
The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.
You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.
Maybe you could bribe him?
"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.
You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."
He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.
He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.
"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.
"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.
-
Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.
Salauddin heard them before he saw them.
The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.
They're coming.
In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.
But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.
It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.
He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.
Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?
The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.
Do they attack now?
Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.
Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.
Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-
"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.
Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."
Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"
"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"
"Why are you here, Baldwin?"
Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.
"I'm here to meet my fiancee."
Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"
Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."
"Baldwin."
The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"
Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.
"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.
Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.
Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.
-
They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.
But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.
What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.
He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.
Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.
"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.
Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.
Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.
"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.
"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?
"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.
Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"
"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.
Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."
The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.
"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.
"The princess is gone."
There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.
"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.
"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"
The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"
"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.
The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.
Isabella.
"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-
"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.
"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.
"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.
Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.
"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.
"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.
Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.
"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"
Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.
"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.
"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?
Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."
"And why is that?"
"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."
-
The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.
Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.
Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.
That cretin was getting on his last nerves.
Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.
Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.
They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.
Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.
"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.
Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.
"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.
After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.
It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.
However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.
Your chaddar, lying on the ground.
-
You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.
When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.
"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-
You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-
You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!
Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!
"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?
You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.
You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.
You were locked in.
The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-
Abbas.
You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?
You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.
"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.
Wait. Circulation.
You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.
"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"
You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.
What in the-
The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?
No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-
NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-
The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.
Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.
Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-
Guy?
All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.
The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?
You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.
"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?
Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-
"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.
"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"
Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.
He thinks you and Abbas-
"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.
"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."
You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.
"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.
"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.
"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"
Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.
"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"
"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"
"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.
"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"
Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?
You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?
Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?
Enough is enough. You need to come clean.
"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."
Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.
"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."
"Lies! There's no proof-"
"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"
"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"
"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"
"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"
Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"
"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.
"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.
"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.
Thud.
You looked down to where the sound came from.
Guy's head dropped in front of you.
Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.
Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.
You could hear the ringing get louder.
Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.
He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.
Your consciousness finally gave out.
Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.
"Baldwin, she didnt-"
"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.
"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.
-
You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-
"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.
"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.
"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.
She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.
"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.
"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.
She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"
"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"
You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"
"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"
"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"
She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.
Wait, desert?
"We've left Egypt?"
"Yes-"
She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.
You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.
Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.
It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.
"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-
Or maybe he has decided to torture you.
"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.
Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.
"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.
Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"
"I never doubted you." He cut you off.
Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.
"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."
Your lips parted. What... what was he-
"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.
He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."
You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-
"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"
"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"
"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."
A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.
"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.
"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.
Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.
He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."
Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"
"I love you, Baldwin." You said.
His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"
"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.
Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.
"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.
-
Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.
The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.
Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.
And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.
Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.
But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."
"Traitor to the crown?"
He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."
He truly has thought of everything.
-
Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.
After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.
"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.
"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.
You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.
The key.
You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.
You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.
Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.
Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.
You turned to your side and closed your eyes.
Perhaps God saved me.
-
Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.
"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.
"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.
"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-
The ring.
"Its the-"
"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.
"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.
"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.
"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."
"Stressed? By what?" You asked.
"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"
You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."
"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.
"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.
Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.
Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.
You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.
But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.
You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.
Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-
Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-
Wait.
You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.
-
Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.
She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.
"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.
"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"
She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"
"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."
Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.
"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"
"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.
She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."
You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"
Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.
"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.
"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"
Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.
"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.
"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).
Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.
"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.
"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"
Isabella looked up, and she smirked.
"You have no proof."
You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.
"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.
She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."
"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"
You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"
"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."
Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"
"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.
"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."
-
Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.
"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.
It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-
The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.
"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.
"Baldwin, please give it back-"
"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.
"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.
"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.
"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"
Heaven? No fucking way-
"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.
"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"
Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.
Wait.
"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.
Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!
"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"
"I did it because I love you!"
"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"
"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"
"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."
"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"
"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.
"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"
"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"
Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"
"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."
Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."
-
Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.
The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.
You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.
"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.
"No."
He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.
"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.
"No."
"I can help you-"
"No." You sniffled. "No one can."
The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.
"Abbas asked me to give you this."
You opened your palm to see-
A key.
The key!
But how did he make this? You never designed it-
You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.
Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.
"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.
"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"
"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.
"But there is no bathroom here-"
"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."
They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.
You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.
"Where are you going? I'll come with."
You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."
"Y/n-"
"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.
Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-
"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.
It didnt turn on.
No. No. No-
"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.
You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.
"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.
"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.
"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"
You banged on the machine, cutting him off.
The machine turned on.
You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"
You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.
The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.
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So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.
Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁
PART 8 is here!
1K notes · View notes
hyucksos · 2 months ago
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after rain, comes sunshine — huang renjun
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pairing: huang renjun x f!reader genre: coffee shop au, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, romance, slow burn-ish wc: 6.7k synopsis: a thunderstorm leaves renjun stuck with his relentlessly cheerful, ever-optimistic coworker— you. you're the embodiment of everything he hates, but as the night stretches on, renjun starts to realise that the things that irritate him the most may not be all that unbearable after all. at least, not if it involves you.
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There are three things in this world that Renjun hates.
Early mornings, small talk, and thunderstorms.
He must have done something super horrible in his past life, because it's barely even 3pm, and Renjun has had to go through all three of the aforementioned in that exact order.
He wasn't even supposed to come in to work today, but Donghyuck had called in sick (Renjun finds that hard to believe) and he was the only other person on the roster who knew how to make a Toasted Caramel Cloud Latte. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough reason for Renjun to willingly sacrifice his much-needed sleep, and it seemed that Donghyuck knew that too, because not only was he quick to promise Renjun to cover him for his next shift, the boy had also vowed to chip in to buy the new set of gouache paints he had been eyeing for so long.
That was what got Renjun out of bed, albeit begrudgingly.
The last thing he needed was an extra factor to contribute to his already-terrible mood, but that was what he got anyway when he stepped into the café, only to be met with you.
"Morning, Renjun!" You chirped from behind the counter as you dried down a mug, the café already prepped for opening— you liked to take your time when doing the opening duties, and you found that coming in earlier helped avoid any unnecessary rushing on your end.
Renjun didn't say anything, opting to shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. You didn't miss the tick of his jaw as he trudged towards you wordlessly, letting his bag fall from his shoulder to the shelf beneath the cash register.
"You know how to make a cloud latte," he muttered under his breath as he put on his apron, securing it tightly with a double knot behind his back. "Why am I here?"
Despite his less-than-enthused response, you grinned. You've been working with Renjun long enough to know that he's a little bit of a grump, so you didn't take his moodiness to heart.
"Hyuck's your best friend. It would make sense for him to ask you instead of anyone else," you reasoned lightly. "Plus, having company isn't so bad, is it? You'll be out the door before you know it!"
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"Citizens are advised to stay indoors..."
Renjun lets out a groan as he lets his head hit the cabinet behind him. It hurts, but not as much as the migraine that's already beginning to form in his temples. And as if to add insult to injury (no pun intended), the sky lets out yet another guttural rumble, reminding him once more of his ill-stricken fate.
"I don't think Seoul's had a downpour this bad in ages," you remark from somewhere at the dining area. Renjun couldn't tell where exactly you are; he had slid down to the floor when he decided to accept his fate fifteen minutes ago, and his only view since are the bottles of syrup and unopened bags of coffee beans under the espresso machines.
And as if to add even more insult to injury, the two of you are the only ones left in the shop. With it being a Tuesday afternoon, most of your regulars are either at work or school. Renjun has never liked working during the rush hour, but God does he wish for that to be the case now.
He looks up when he sees your head pop above the counter, raising a brow at the smile on your face. He knows how awfully cheery you are, but even in a time like this? You must be crazy, he thinks.
"Isn't this nice? I never knew this café could get any cozier."
"Nice?" Renjun scoffs as he finally gets to his feet. "What about this is nice? We're stuck in, I don't know, what might as well be a Cat 5 hurricane, and you think it's nice?"
You roll your eyes, seemingly unbothered by his sharp tone. "You're so dramatic! I've been in one, you know? While I was on vacation in the States. It was a Cat 2, I think, and I promise this doesn't even come close to that! I mean, as long as we're not asked to evacuate, we should be fine-"
Renjun lets out a loud tsk, cutting you off as he unties his apron rashly, the fabric crumpling in his hand.
Your eyes widen when you register his movements. "You're not actually planning on leaving, are you?"
Renjun scoffs dryly in response. "You think I have a death wish?"
"Honestly? I could never tell when it comes to you."
He glares at you.
You quickly round the counter, successfully trapping him before he could escape to the break room. "Look, I'm sure it won't be too bad! Let's just continue to wait for updates. Coffee?"
"I hate coffee," he deadpans.
"You literally work in a café!" You laugh airily, moving to the teabag jars beside the espresso machines. Despite the heater being on, the coolness from the outside is starting to seep in, and you're sure Renjun could feel it too.
He doesn't say anything but huff under his breath as he leans against the cabinets behind him, taking out his phone from his back pocket. You take it that he's done with the conversation.
For a while, it's silent, the only sound apart from the tinkling of your metal spoon the harsh crashing of raindrops against the window panes outside. You think it's calming, but Renjun seems to think otherwise when you see him flinch from your periphery at the sudden flash that illuminates the room, soon followed by a loud boom of thunder.
Instinctively, you turn to him, but Renjun keeps his eyes fixed to his phone, his lips downturned into his usual frown.
"Did you know that lightning is hotter than the surface of the sun?" You remark, crossing the distance towards him with the mug of tea in your hands. Renjun looks up from his phone at your question, his stare blank, but his right brow raises slightly when he realises what you're offering.
He doesn't make the move to accept the mug as he pockets his phone, opting to cross his arms instead. "What are you doing?"
You tilt your head. "Huh?"
He nods towards the steaming mug in your hands. "What are you trying to do?"
"You said you don't like coffee, so I made you tea instead! It's Lemon Balm, known to reduce anxiety. It could also improve one's mood-"
"Yeah, so long as I'm still trapped in here, that's not gonna happen," he mutters, turning to face the window outside.
The rain is still as relentless as ever, the skies dark and gloomy despite it being daytime. If it was any other day, Renjun would have already been out the door, making his way home. A regular eight-hour shift is already treacherous enough on it's own— an eight-hour shift with you, while it's raining, on top of that, has got to be one of the worst things that's ever happened to Renjun in a while, which says a lot considering he's literally living in the same timeline as Lee Donghyuck.
Renjun turns to steal a glance at you, no longer at his side as you busy yourself with doing the dishes. As if just now never happened, you're back to humming to yourself, the song only sounding vaguely familiar to his ears. The cup of tea you made him is left abandoned on the counter, and for a split second he feels guilty for having not accepting it earlier.
You see, it's not like Renjun hates you. He's just indifferent, and that makes a huge difference. He's someone who prefers to keep to himself, a concept that you can't seem to fathom for some reason, and he finds your overtly-positive attitude equal parts annoying and draining. Renjun doesn't hate you— he just hates everything you embody, and that's enough to make him stay away.
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"Look what I found!"
The last time Renjun heard your voice has to be around a few hours ago, when he decided to move from the counter to one of the couches in the dining area. It wasn't the most ideal considering the floor-length windows still gave him the perfect view of rain that he hated so much, but his legs were beginning to hurt from standing for so long and he didn't really want to sit on the floor and deal with your small talk any longer.
You must have gotten the hint when you decided to leave him alone, retreating to the break room to do God-knows-what— based on the grin on your face now, Renjun has a feeling that he's going to find out very soon.
You bound towards him, settling next to him with something in your hands. Your eyes instantly land on the sketchbook on his lap, but before you could say anything, like utter out a compliment on his drawing, Renjun snatches the pad away from your sight.
"What?" He grunts, cheeks feeling slightly warm for some reason. He had abandoned his phone some time earlier, deciding to peruse his sketchbook to pass the time. It was a good thing he brought it out everywhere he went— as awful of a situation he's stuck in, at least he has something familiar to keep his sanity in check.
Your grin grows wider (Renjun wonders how that's even possible) before you set a box between the two of you.
"I was bored, right? So I figured I'd clean out the break room to pass the time, and I found this! Johnny must have left it here and forgot about it."
Renjun studies the blue box, the words HALLI GALLI staring back at him in bold, yellow font. Oh, hell no. You're the last person he wants to play a card game with— not just because you're you, but also the fact that he just doesn't fare well with games in general.
It's not like Renjun is bad at them— if anything, it's quite the opposite, but the last time he played Halli Galli, he had almost gotten into a fistfight with his friends (he had to receive a kiss penalty from Donghyuck even though he won because Mark kept making up rules as they went along). Needless to say, all their game nights now require the presence of a moderator (not like that has done much anyway considering Jaemin hates intervening in literally anything ever, so Renjun doesn't know why they still try).
"I'm not playing this with you."
"Aw, why not? It's fun! Even for serious people like you," you tease, but Renjun doesn't laugh. Ignoring him, you continue, "we could make the most of this quiet time together."
"Nothing about today has been quiet," Renjun mutters. He's pretty sure you heard him, but you simply brush it off as you open the box, letting the cards fall on the sofa while you place the bell in the middle.
Renjun huffs, knowing he isn't left with a choice. You're adamant, he realises, and even if he weren't to give in now, he knows he'd have to eventually, and he'd rather deal with this now than later on.
You start the game, putting down a card of two coconuts before you glance at Renjun, waiting for him to complete his turn. He does the same (albeit much less enthusiastic than you), his card flipping to the other side to reveal four strawberries.
The game continues on that way, with you practically at the edge of your seat as you anticipate every next move. You had just put down three bananas, and your eyes are fixed on Renjun's hands as he slowly flips his card to reveal... two bananas.
You yelp, palm quickly outstretching to hit the bell, and despite Renjun's obvious disinterest in the game (or so you thought), you're surprised to learn that he's just as quick, his hand clashing against yours as you fight to ring the bell at the same time.
"I definitely got that one!" You proclaim proudly, to which Renjun scoffs.
"No way, you're barely even on the bell!"
"Nuh-uh, look! Your hand is literally on top of mine!" You wriggle your fingers for good measure, causing Renjun to look down at your hand— both of your hands, which are still on the bell. You were right; while most of your palm is covering the bell, only the tips of his fingers are touching the metal surface, the rest of his skin resting idly on the back of your hand. He's never really noticed how tiny your hands are— it's not like he's that huge of a guy to begin with— and the thought somehow brings an unexplainable flush to his face.
He quickly removes his hand, carding through his deck for the sole purpose of having something to do before passing you a card. "You just got lucky," he mutters, clearing his throat.
You giggle. "No, I'm just that good," you sing, waving the card mockingly in front of his face before putting it together with your deck.
Renjun rolls his eyes. You remind him so much of Donghyuck; it's a wonder how he isn't your best friend.
"I used to play this game a lot when I was younger," you quip randomly in the midst of the next round. You do that a lot, Renjun realises, stating facts he didn't ask for when it gets too quiet. It used to leave him not knowing how to react, but if there's anything Renjun has learnt about you in this limited time you've spent together, is that you don't need a response from him to continue talking, so he doesn't say anything.
"I'm an only child, so visiting my grandparents in Jeju was the only time I'd get to hang out with my cousins. We'd do everything together— even stay up late and wake up early the next morning so no time would be wasted. It was a wonder how we never ran out of things to do," you chuckle to yourself, fiddling with the cards in your hand.
"One time, it started to rain super heavily— kind of like right now, actually— all while we were cycling outside. Instead of seeking shelter, we decided to play in the rain. We got home freezing our toes off and I fell sick the next morning, but it was so worth it. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything else," you trail off softly, and Renjun doesn't miss the twinge of longing in your voice. At this point, the game had been long abandoned, your attention now fixed on the rain outside and Renjun on you. You turn to him, the fond smile still playing on your lips, and that is what causes him to look away, only then realising that he had been staring.
"What about you?"
Renjun's brows knit in confusion. "Huh?"
"You don't seem to like the rain very much."
"Yes, because it inconveniences people. Kind of like the situation we're in right now, don't you think?" His tone comes off as a little snappy, but before Renjun could regret it, you're already beaming at him in response. He wonders if you're ever capable of any other emotion apart from happiness.
"Sure, but look at where it brought us! Two friends, bonding, towards becoming even better friends!"
Nevermind. He doesn't feel bad anymore, not when he remembers that this is who he's dealing with right now. Plus, the term friends is a little bit of a stretch, isn't it? He doesn't know anything about you apart from the fact that— well, you're an only child and that your grandparents live in Jeju. He doesn't even know your last name, and he'd like to think that that should be the minimum requirement before considering someone a friend.
He rolls his eyes as he lazily throws his last card, ready to wrap up the game, only to perk up when he sees his lone strawberry face-up with four of yours. Quickly, he reaches forward to ring the bell, grinning in triumph when he realises you hadn't gone head-to-head this time.
"A-ha! I win!" Renjun smirks proudly, too caught up in his victory to realise that he's smiling. It falters when he notices you staring at him— not in defeat, but something much... softer. It looks similar to when you were recounting your memories with your family in Jeju. It looks like Jaemin when he's scrolling through pictures of his three cats in his gallery. It looks like Mark... when he's on FaceTime with his girl whenever they do long-distance.
Suddenly, Renjun could no longer hear the rain thumping harshly against the window next to him. He could no longer see the lightning that comes in flashes, nor does he flinch at the thunder that follows. Only two words form in his head:
Oh, shit.
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lee donghyuck [3:41pm] yowww 🔥🔥🔥 [3:53pm] r u alive? lol [4:02pm] wait no like actually r u???? [4:22pm] pls tell me ur sfae omg im gonna start sobbinf and cryin rn dont evne [4:46pm] HUANG RENJUN [5:12pm] NAWWW we really lost an angel today.... jun i hope ur looking up at us 🙏🙏🙏
huang renjun [5:24pm] UP???
lee donghyuck [5:24pm] oh hey lol [5:24pm] wyd
Renjun utters a curse under his breath as he switches to his phone app, bringing the device to his ear immediately after he dials Donghyuck's number. It rings twice before the boy picks up.
"Injun-ah!" Donghyuck's voice is hoarse— so he wasn't lying about being sick. That doesn't make Renjun any less annoyed, though. "I was so worried-"
"Cut the shit, Hyuck. Did you know?"
Donghyuck is silent before he replies, as though carefully choosing his next words. "... Know what?"
"That she likes me."
"That who likes- oh my God. Did she tell you already?" If it's even possible, Donghyuck's already-naturally nasally voice sounds even more annoying now that he's excited while sick.
"What?" Renjun hisses into his phone, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't too loud. Granted, he's currently alone in the men's room and he's 90% sure you aren't outside eavesdropping, but he could never be too careful. "So it's true?"
"I mean, only because she was so fucking obvious," Donghyuck snickers before he breaks out into a fit of coughs. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."
Renjun groans. "How the hell was I supposed to know? She talks to everyone the same way!"
"Dude, have you seen the way she looks at you? It's like when Jaemin looks at Luke, Lucy, and Lu-"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it, alright?" Renjun grumbles. "Shit, what should I do now?"
"Um, nothing? It's not like you're even supposed to know that she likes you," Donghyuck quips plainly. "Dude, why are you even freaking out? Wait- do you like her back?"
"No!" Renjun exclaims, a little too quick for his own liking. Maybe it's because he could practically see the teasing smirk on his friend's lips, or maybe it's just the suggestion that sounds so fucking absurd he had to shut it down immediately. "It's just- look, I've been nothing short of mean to her this entire time so I kinda feel bad, alright? Why would she even like me like that? I mean- is she some sort of masochist, or something?"
Donghyuck guffaws, clearly not about to let his embarrassing stuttering slide. "Okay? And why are you so worried? Since, you know, you don't like her like that and all."
"You're hopeless," Renjun mutters, not bothering to bid Donghyuck goodbye before he hangs up. He should've known that the boy is the last ever person he should seek advice from; Jaemin would have made for a better candidate.
But calling Jaemin now would only be suspicious, and Renjun knows it would only be a matter of time before you would knock on his door to ask if he's doing alright— because that's just who you are as a person.
Huh, maybe he does know you better than he thought.
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Renjun has long given up hope that he'd be going home tonight. The thunderstorm is still as relentless as ever, the skies growing even darker now that the sun has set. The café is bathed in a warm light, and under a different circumstance he would've found it cozy.
You're situated behind the counter now, probably having moved there when he was in the restroom. Instead of going back to the couch, Renjun finds himself heading towards you. He doesn't know why.
"Forecast says the rain won't stop until morning." You don't look at him as you say this, and Renjun quickly notices the two cups of instant noodles you're currently busying yourself with, the rising steam swirling lazily in the air. You only turn to him once you're done mixing the noodles, a sympathetic smile on your face. "Looks like we'd have to stay the night."
"You sound oddly sad for someone who claims to love the rain." Against his better judgement, the words slip out of his mouth. Renjun thinks it must have something to do with his conversation with Donghyuck earlier, because why does he feel like he's being weird all of a sudden?
You merely shrug, handing one of the cups to him. This time, he accepts it, and Renjun tries not to flinch at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his.
"Well, I still do! If I could, I'd run outside right now and play in the rain, but the news just issued a lightning alert and I'd rather not risk getting struck, you know. Besides, staying inside isn't all that bad," you quip lightheartedly, a small grin on your face as you bring your chopsticks to your lips, blowing on your noodles lightly.
Renjun doesn't say anything, his brows only furrowing at your response. How is it that you're still so cheery even after everything that's happened? It's as though you didn't just find out that you're literally stranded here with no way home until the next morning.
The room illuminates momentarily when thunder strikes, and this time, Renjun does flinch. If he wasn't already holding on to his cup of noodles so tightly, it would have already spilled all over him. Clearly, you notice, and you don't look away quickly enough to act like you didn't.
"You know, I've learnt recently that a lightning bolt is only as wide as your thumb, but it could stretch on for miles," you say as you swallow your food, showing a thumbs-up as you grin at him playfully. "It's kind of crazy, right? How something so small could be so powerful?"
Renjun clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes momentarily. "Alright," he mutters, placing his cup on the counter. "Why do you keep doing that?"
You raise your brows, lowering your hand. "Doing what?"
"That. Every time it gets loud and I- I startle, you tell me some random fact, as if it's going to magically drown out the thunder."
"Well, it works, doesn’t it? It’s my secret technique to distract you! And think about it this way: every time it thunders, I get to share a cool tidbit with you. Like how lightning can strike the same place twice!”
"Yeah, because that makes me feel so much better," Renjun mumbles, though he finds that the edge in his voice has softened.
"Oh, relax." You roll your eyes jokingly. "Lightning only often hits tall structures like trees or skyscrapers, so you’re safe here with me.”
He scoffs. "Tall? Is that a jab?"
You gape, and you fear that you've struck a nerve within him. "N-No! I mean, I'm just saying! You're probably just not tall enough to worry about it, unless you're like, I don't know, Yao Ming or something," you start to ramble. "Even then, did you know that the tallest man in the world is a whole foot taller than him? I guess he would have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning, then, wouldn't he? Or not, considering, well, you know, he's dead. I don't-"
You're cut off when you feel a palm cover your lips, and your eyes widen at the contact. Renjun stares at you, unimpressed.
"You," he starts. "Talk too much. You know that?"
With his hand still over your mouth, you're unable to reply— even if it wasn't, you doubt you could, anyway. His skin against yours brings a warmth to your neck and cheeks, and you could only hope he couldn't see how bright red you're sure you are.
You nod your head slowly.
Renjun scoffs, finally dropping his hand as he glances to the window behind you. If you weren't already staring at him so intently, you would've missed the slight upturn of his lips. "Wow. So not only am I terrified of the storm, I'm short, too?" He shakes his head, half-amused.
"Hey, you said it, not me!" You exclaim defensively, feeling much more relieved now that you've seen him smile. You wonder if he's aware of how pretty his smile is. "Though for the record, I think you're the perfect height!" You pause, "f-for dodging lightning, of course!"
Renjun didn't like how the first half of your sentence made his heart beat faster. If only he were any closer, he'd hear your heart beating just as fast, too.
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"You kids hang on tight, alright? There are blankets in the break room if you need them— and keep me updated!"
You've been in contact with your boss since the lockdown announcement hours ago, and despite your last message telling him that you and Renjun are alright, it seems that it's just in Johnny's nature to be overly-concerned as his worried face now flashes on your screen.
"We're alright, Boss, we promise!" You say for the umpteenth time. "This shop's stable enough to withstand a strike or two I'm sure, so we'll see you tomorrow morning!"
"Don't joke about that," Renjun hisses, nudging your arm with his elbow. He turns to the screen again. "We'll be sure to give you hourly updates."
At this, Johnny seems a little more at ease. You bid your boss goodbye, and the café soon falls into a silence, with only the humming of the lights and distant rumbling in the skies to keep you company.
"So... should we get ready for bed?" You ask, slapping your thighs as you stand up from the couch. For some reason, it feels awkward. You've long grown accustomed to Renjun and his lack of words, but somewhere along the way today, it seems that the air between you two has shifted— for better or for worst, you couldn't really tell— and you're not sure if you could salvage it.
You've always liked Renjun— of course you have— but today, it feels more impossible to contain your feelings with nobody else around. You like to think that you were good at hiding it all this while (despite what Donghyuck says), but right now, you're not so sure if you could spend a second longer with Renjun without accidentally blowing your own cover.
"I'll go grab the blankets," he says quietly, snapping you out of your reverie before ushering away to the break room. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, turning around to face the couch. Surely, your feelings could wait, because right now, there's only one thing that matters more: your sleeping arrangement.
You bend down to grab the couch by the armrest, pulling it further towards the middle of the dining area. With it being originally situated right by the window, you figure it wouldn't make for such an ideal (or safe) makeshift bed.
"What are you doing?"
You huff, returning to your original height to see Renjun by the door of the break room, a bundle of plaid blankets in his hands. He has a brow raised— you notice he does that a lot when looking at you— and you laugh meekly.
"Just, you know. Wouldn't wanna get struck by lightning, or anything like that."
He rolls his eyes (again, something he does a lot when it comes to you) as he makes his way towards you, letting the blankets fall on the sofa. "You can take the couch. Probably should lay one of these out first, though. Not sure how many butts have been on there."
Usually, you would have laughed at his comment, but this time, you find yourself tilting your head in confusion instead. "Where are you gonna sleep?"
Renjun shrugs. "The chair works fine for me."
You frown. Taking one of the blankets, you spread it out before letting the fabric fall over the couch. "The chair? There's no way you'd be comfortable like that! Look, the couch is big enough for the both of us. We'd have to stay seated, of course, but that's better than sleeping in a chair, right? Or would you rather we take turns?"
Renjun scoffs. "What? We're not in an apocalypse. There's no need for night watch."
Still, you stall, and it causes him to sigh. Renjun steps towards you, gently planting his hands on your shoulders before guiding you down onto the sofa. "Gosh, you're stubborn. Just take the couch, alright? It's not like I'm planning on sleeping, anyway."
The last part of his sentence comes out in a low murmur, but you still catch it.
"What do you mean you're not planning on sleeping?" You echo, and based on the flash of panic that crosses his face, you're sure he hadn't mean to let that one slip.
"I mean, with the storm and all," Renjun explains stiffly, glancing away. "I'm just saying, there's no way I'd be able to sleep with all that noise."
You gape slightly before your lips transform into a grin. "Could I interest you in another fun fact, then?"
Renjun groans loudly, and you find yourself giggling at his response. And when you hear the low chuckle that escapes his lips, you find your heart swelling at the sound of his laugh.
"Seriously, let's just share, alright? Look, I'll even stay up with you! I won't talk if you don't want me to, though."
Renjun finally gives in, sitting at the other end of the couch. "When has that ever stopped you?"
Noting the lack of bite in his voice, you grin. "Touché."
Eventually, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and for the first time in a while, you don't feel the need to make conversation. You've never been one to be able to stay quiet for very long; clearly, Renjun is someone who does, and today, you learn that it really isn't all that bad.
Renjun steals a glance towards you, but you have your eyes fixed on the rain outside, a small smile still tugged on your lips. It looks like you're watching a movie, the floor-length windows a giant movie screen, and the flashes of lightning the different scenes bouncing off your features. He must have missed the thunder that comes afterwards, only realising it when you turn to him with that stupid, pretty smile still on your lips.
"Uh," Renjun stutters, having been caught off-guard at the sudden eye contact. He quickly looks away. "You don't have to do this."
You tilt your head. "Do what?"
"Stay up with me. You should get some rest."
You laugh, and Renjun wonders if it's always sounded this beautiful. "Don't be silly! I don't mind. I know you're gonna chide me for saying this, but it's kinda nice. I can't remember the last time I stayed up to watch the rain," you pause before turning to him. "You're probably gonna hate me forever for making you endure both a thunderstorm and my chatter in one night," you say teasingly.
"That's not true," he says quietly, only belatedly hoping that you hadn't heard him. Clearing his throat, Renjun turns to his right where his messenger bag lies, taking out his sketchbook he had haphazardly stuffed inside earlier. He flips it open, feeling your curious eyes on him as he looks for the page he had been working on.
"The rain looks better on paper for me," he explains awkwardly. "You know, since we're on the topic of likes and dislikes."
Renjun feels you scoot towards him, and he hates that he could feel the warmth emitting from your side even despite the blanket that envelops your shoulders.
"That's so pretty," you say in awe as you study the drawing. Despite it being so simple, nothing but a rough sketch of a window pane covered with rain drops, you still find yourself marvelling at the intricacy of it all. You could barely even write a whole essay legibly, yet here Renjun is, crafting a whole masterpiece with nothing but a blue ballpoint pen. "I wish I had an ounce of your talent. You're amazing, Renjun."
Even though he's no stranger to getting compliments for his works, it somehow feels different coming from you. It's probably because of how intimate it is— you and him, cramped on a couch in a barely-lit café with your arm pressing into his side— that's all there is to it, right?
But as he turns to you, taking in the stars that seem to dance in your eyes and the pink hue that dusts your cheeks even in the dark, Renjun starts to wonder if maybe, it's more than that. If maybe, the way his heart is stuttering isn't because of the setting, but you— only you.
With the way Donghyuck's question from earlier still plays in the back of his head like a broken record, Renjun knows that it's the truth.
✦ ✦ ✦
With it being late into the night, the two of you lapse into silence, too tired to keep a conversation going, but still very much awake— as though under an unspoken agreement to not fall asleep.
The rain has reduced significantly and the thunder has lessened, nothing but an occasional low rumble in the distance, but every now and then you'd still feel Renjun tensing from next to you.
“You know, statistically, you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than win the lottery,” you mumble sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open.
Renjun lets out a soft chuckle. “Comforting,” he replies, though there’s no real edge to his voice. “So, basically, I’m doomed.”
“Not while I’m here,” you say through a yawn. “Consider me your good luck charm.”
Renjun shakes his head, but there’s a softness in his expression now, something warm and unspoken passing between you. The couch creaks slightly as you both shift to get more comfortable. Your cheek brushes slightly against his arm, but Renjun doesn't pull away. In your half-conscious state, you barely feel his arm circle behind you, pulling you closer towards him as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder.
"Then I guess I'd have to keep you around for every storm."
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Click.
That's the sound you wake to, the sun that hits your eyelids being the second thing to rouse you from your slumber. You stir, your cheek brushing against something soft that only makes you want to sleep even more, but the sound of suspicious giggling causes you to open your eyes.
Your bleary vision lands on Donghyuck, who's currently standing before you with a cheshire-like grin, his phone in his hands.
"Don't you two look cozy?" He coos, tapping on his screen once more before his phone produces another click.
Finally registering what's happening, you jolt awake, only belatedly realising the oh-so-soft material to be Renjun's clothed chest. You must have fallen asleep on him sometime during the middle of the night, and you can't figure out what's more embarrassing: that, or the fact that Donghyuck has proof of said... intimacy.
"Lee Donghyuck! You better not post that!" You yelp, jumping off the couch to reach for his phone, only to fail as he waves his arm in the air, cackling manically.
Renjun finally stirs at the noise. “What’s going on?” he mumbles groggily, only to frown when he registers what you and Donghyuck are doing.
You whip to turn to Renjun, almost tripping in the process, throwing him an apologetic glance. “N-Nothing! Just- uh, a little misunderstanding!”
Donghyuck lowers his arm, tongue poking out of his lips as he types rapidly on his phone. “Oh, I’m definitely sharing this. Aw, you two are so adorable!”
Renjun groans. "Fuck off, Hyuck, seriously." He stands up, picking up his bag before stuffing all his belongings inside. "Ignore him. Let's go."
You giggle, your own embarrassment seeping away when you realise just how flustered he is. "Renjun, wait-"
"Nope, not waiting," he mutters, the tip of his ears noticeably pink as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "We're leaving before this asshole gets anymore material." He shoots Donghyuck a glare, who only waves a hand mindlessly.
"I may be an asshole, but at least I'm not delusional. Seriously, guys, it's painful watching you pretend like you're not into each other!" He cries dramatically, and Renjun's eyes widen before he forces another warning stare to his friend.
"Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Hyuck," he mutters, hoping his voice didn't waver too much, before quickly grabbing your arm and leading you to the door. "We're leaving."
"Have a good day, lovebirds!" Donghyuck sings, and Renjun flashes him a middle finger with his free hand without turning around.
You couldn't help but to laugh as you let him drag you out to the sidewalk, the cold outside air hitting your skin for the first time since yesterday. It's no longer raining, but the streets are still wet from the overnight storm, and it helps in cooling your own burning cheeks.
Renjun finally releases you when you're a little further away from the café, turning to face you with a sigh. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbles, his cheek still painted red, and you wonder how it's possible for him to be this cute, grumpiness and all.
"It's okay." You bite your bottom lip to suppress a grin, and Renjun smiles at you weakly.
There's a moment of silence between you two before Renjun clears his throat awkwardly. "He's right, you know?"
"Hm? About what?" You ask, slightly taken aback by his sudden soft tone.
Renjun shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his voice quiet. “About… me being into you. Wait, that came out weird." He stumbles over his words, and you merely beam at him as you give him time to compose himself.
"It's just— I know I haven't been the nicest to you, and I know it may sound crazy, but I had this whole revelation yesterday that I do have feelings for you— and I promise this isn't just a fleeting thing because of the storm— I genuinely think you're really cool."
You don't say anything, only a soft smile playing on your lips, and that causes Renjun to panic.
"I mean, I know I've been a jerk to you, and I know this isn't an excuse, but I just didn't know how to-"
You cut him off by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, effectively halting his words. His mouth hangs open slightly, eyes wide as he stares at you in disbelief, his face flushing.
When you pull back, you couldn't help but laugh softly at his stunned expression. “You're rambling,” you tease with a playful smile.
He coughs out a small laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Guess I was." The smile stays on his face this time as he meets your eyes. "So... does that mean you're not compelled to the idea of going on a date with me?"
"Nope. Not at all." You rock between your heels and toes, already feeling the excitement bubbling in your chest. You like to think that you're doing a much better job at keeping your composure, but you're sure anyone could see just how bright red you are. "I think I'd really like that, actually."
Renjun's eyebrows raise before his expression eases into one of relief, and for the first time, a large smile graces his lips. You think you might just have a new favourite thing now— one that easily tops the rain.
"Yeah? Good. Because I think I'd really like that, too."
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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago
Text
Spoil of War
dark!aegon x niece!reader
summary: aegon enjoys his time with his prisoner of war
A/N: my bad y'all, it took me forever to get this up
TW: MAJOR DUBCON, smut!!, bondage, incest, violence, kidnapping, degradation, body worship perhaps
word count: 2,245 words
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You sit in your childhood bedroom, stewing with your thoughts. It was all so quick, the battle with Daeron, the demise of your dragon. You should be grateful; she spent her last moments cushioning your fall so you wouldn’t die on impact, but you can’t help thinking that you would be better off dead. There’s hardly anything worse than being a prisoner of war, except being Aegon’s prisoner of war.
Speak of the Devil, Aegon has the guards open your chamber doors and the smug bastard strolls in. “Ah, my sweet niece. I finally have the chance to lay my eyes on you.” He regards your nightgown with great interest. You haven’t had a chance to dress yourself for the day yet. “You’ve been quite the subject of controversy as of late.” He says with a light smirk.
“Which part is controversial, the fact that you’re keeping me prisoner, usurper?” You say back to him with spite.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. It’s a temporary situation.” He says, unconcerned as he walks over to your dining table of untouched food and picks up an apple, taking a bite of it. “Once your mother bends the knee, i’ll return you to her. It’s as easy as that.”
“Or they’ll take control of King’s Landing and Daemon will slaughter you where you stand.” You’ve never heard your voice filled with such hate before as when you speak now.
“Come on, the threats are hardly necessary. You are safe with us - for the time being.” He makes a stupid joking cringe face at the second part of his sentence. “You could do with being more amicable.”
“Amicable? I’m your fucking prisoner and if her Grace the Queen doesn’t bend the knee to your spoiled, traitorus ass, you’ll execute me.”
“War doesn’t often give you many options. And you, my dear niece, are a very valuable bargaining chip.” As he speaks, you know he takes the utmost pleasure in you being in his control. You want to wipe the smug grin off his face.
You reach for the piece of glass you had hidden, ever so slowly. You feel your hand clutch it and your gaze is filled with rage as you launch yourself at him. “You traitor!” You aim for his throat with the sharp point but he catches your arm. The broken glass barely grazes him, leaving only the thinnest line of blood as proof of your attack. He twists your arm and the piece of glass clatters to the floor. Your uncle releases you only so he can backhand you so hard that you fall to the floor.
“Gods, you’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He wipes the drip of the blood off his neck. “Clever girl, going for the throat.” He laughs at you. You just tried to kill him and he laughs at you.
You glare up at him, your face distraught and full of vengeance. You quickly reach for the glass that you had dropped but as soon as you manage to grip it again, Aegon kicks you in the stomach. You curl into yourself, whimpering.
“Okay that’s enough of that. Guards!” The guards immediately enter the room, ready to defend their king. “Restrain her. Use… rope.” He has a certain look on his face as he says the last word, seemingly pleased with himself as he struts out of the room.
You’re left on your knees, by the fireplace for an hour until Aegon returns. Your hands behind your back, the bindings keeping you in place. There is, what you consider to be, an unnecessary amount of rope tied around your body that is seemingly for decoration, for your uncle’s pleasure.
“Are you calm now?” He asks as he strides back into your chamber with arrogance. “I wasn’t sure what the cool down time was for Strong bastards.” His stare is hungry as he looks upon you. “What a pleasant sight, my combative niece tied up at my feet.” He almost mumbles the last part.
“I will be calm when I watch your body burn.” There is heat in your words, your threats.
“That is a lot of big talk for a girl who is kneeling for her king. You’re much more desirable like this… when you’re helpless beneath my gaze.” His fingertips graze under your chin, tilting it up so you have to look at him. You jerk your head away.
“Don’t touch me!” You spit at his feet.
“Silly to say such things when you’re at my mercy.” He kneels down to look at you better, his fingers run along your soft hair. “I’ve never been more tempted. And i’ve been tempted many, many times.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had forgotten how divine you are.”
You know where he’s going with this, what he wants. His finger trails down your nightgown, to your breast, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll burn in the Seven Hells for this!” You say as you fight against your restraints.
He ignores your words. “If I were a more brazen man, i’d ravish you right here and now… oh wait.” He chuckles at his own joke.
The fire burns bright behind you and his dagger gleams in the warm light as he unsheathes it. He cuts one of the cap sleeves of your nightgown. “You have no right.” Your eyes flare bolder than dragonflame as you speak.
“Oh, my lovely sweet niece, I absolutely have the right because you are under my protection. If I want to rip that nightgown off and ravage you, who’s going to stop me?” He says sadistically… lustfully as he cuts the other cap of your gown.
“It’s not a proper way to treat an important bargaining chip.” You say softly. To be truthful, younger you would be preening at the chance to be so close to Aegon. Up until now, you had thought that part of you had died with Luke. Now, he’s so close, so... alluring.
“It’s not, but when have I ever been known to behave properly?” He then cuts your nightgown off of you, down the middle and as swiftly as he can without cutting through your bonds, leaving you naked other than the smallclothes that barely cover your lower half.
His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you almost completely naked. His hand falls to your thigh, rubbing the smooth soft skin. “You’ve always had such a lovely figure, niece.”
You flinch and squirm some more. And then you begin to scream bloody murder. Aegon winces before grabbing part of your torn nightgown and shoving it in your mouth. “Such a noisy girl. Now, that’s better. You shouldn’t scream so much. I only intend to show you a good time. I promise you’ll love it.”  He smirks again. “Well… i’ll love it.”
His other hand trails up your navel, to your breast, giving it another squeeze. He then pushes you back on the flocculent carpet and what a sight you make with your hair splayed around you and your pretty mouth gagged. The pillows are strewn about you, in place so you can sit as close to the crackling fire as you wish. Now, it has become the perfect scene for Aegon to take you. He looks at you as if you are the maiden herself, descended from the heavens to be gifted to him. To him, your fairness outmatches Psyche… it outmatches Aphrodite. 
“You don’t know how long I have waited for this, princess.” He then rips your remaining small clothes off, leaving you completely nude. His eyes just rake over you for a moment before he speaks.  “Ah, a sight I could get used to.” He leans down to kiss your breast, focusing on your nipple, focusing on making you feel good? He litters little marks all over before moving to the other and giving it the same attention. He then begins to methodically kiss down your chest, to your tummy, past your navel. You know what he intends his final destination to be. You keep your legs clamped firmly shut, not fully because you want him to stop, and partly because of the wetness that lies between your thighs.
“Hm, a little shy, are we? How sweet…” It isn’t difficult for him to pry your legs open and he grins at the sight of you dripping for him. “Naughty little girl, all wet for her uncle.” 
You turn your heat to the side so you don’t have to make eye contact with him. He grabs your chin and turns your head back. “No. You will watch as I fuck you with my tongue.” You try not to groan as he licks up between your legs, his eyes on yours as his pupils blow wide. He kisses, licks and nips at you, taking you to places in pleasure you’ve never been before. When his tongue pierces your entrance, you can’t stop the whimper that falls from your lips. You hope the gag muted the sound enough that he wouldn’t hear, but your hopes are dashed when he lifts his head.
“I think I want to hear all the pretty little sounds that you make. No more screaming though. Unless, they’re screams of gratification.” He pulls the torn cloth from your mouth but you keep your lips stubbornly sealed. He shakes his head and chuckles before he is between your thighs again. The man eats you like you’re his last meal but you don’t let a single sound out, much to his displeasure even if he can tell that you don’t do it with ease. 
“Why must you be so difficult?” He asks exasperatedly.
“I want you dead.” He rolls his eyes at the statement. “Perhaps you aren’t as good at pleasuring women as you believe.” That pisses him off.
“You’re such a little liar.” He flips you over so your ass is in the air and your chest and face are squished into a cushion, your hands unable to hold you up due to their bindings. “Perhaps I need to fuck that bratty behaviour out of you.” He says and you hear the rustling of clothes behind you. You know he’s undressing and you know there’s no way you can stop him from taking you now, not with how you have pissed him off, not with how your cunt is so deliciously presented to him. But it won’t stop you from trying.
“Aegon don’t you dare.” You say with all the confidence you can muster. You don’t fear your maidenhood being taken, you fear the possibility of a bastard being put in your belly.
“Don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, wench.” With that, he shoves himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. You let out a strangled moan and he laughs. “No keeping your sounds to yourself now.” He then begins to piston himself into you, the head of him brushing your cervix with each thrust. You feel so full every time his hips meet yours. “Gods i’ve never felt a cunt so tight and wet.” His hands grip your hips roughly so he can bring them back with each thrust, making it feel like he’s hitting deeper inside of you. 
“Aegon…” You whine out and squeeze a little around him.
“You like it, don’t you? You like it when your uncle fucks you. I’ve taken you as a prisoner and now you’re moaning in pleasure as I use you. What would your brothers think, what would your mother think, if they saw you taking my cock so well?”
You just whine his name again in response, your head too cloudy to give him an answer.
“I want you to say it. Say how much you love having me inside you.” He fucks into you so deeply that all you want to do is obey.
“I l-ove it, uncle. I love it when you fuck me.” You whimper out again as he stretches you so perfectly.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” His finger comes between your legs to rub your clit and you almost scream. “God, you’re such a little cockslut. Am I your first, little niece?”
“Y-Yes…” You say softly and he grins.
“I thought so. Nobody gets so worked up like a maiden.” He rubs you harder, so fast that you see stars. You begin to squirm a little as your walls begin to squeeze around his thick cock.
He grasps your hair at the roots and pulls your head back so you have to look him in the eye. “That’s right, cum around my cock, baby. Do it.” You fully reach your peak with his command. He watches your face contort with pleasure as you finish around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm. He gives a few more hard thrusts before spilling his seed in you. “Good girl.”
You wince as he pulls out, feeling empty now. He easily manoeuvres you back to your knees and stands up with you at his feet. He tilts your chin up so you have to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll be visiting you much more often now. You don’t have the kind of cunt a man can handle only fucking once.” His thumb strokes your cheek. For the depravity he speaks, his voice is surprisingly soft
“I hate you.”
He smiles gently. “Hate me all you want. I can take it.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey
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jinxs-gf · 9 months ago
Text
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
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pairings: jinx x reader
summary: You’re an artist, giddy at the thought of creating a portrait of Jinx, your lover. Except she can’t understand why you’d want a portrait of her.
content, warnings: jinx has cute aggression & insecurities, fluff! reader calls jinx ‘angel’ and jinx calls r her toots, too much description and it’s all barely edited D: pretty cringe but it’s okay
w.c. 2.2k
a.n. based off this request <3 again tysm anon ILY :)
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You walk into the little corner of Jinx's room (the abandoned, giant space full of nothingness—that goes down...who knows how far) exclusively reserved for you. There's easels with and without canvases. Some covered in abandoned art, some finished, and some blank. The corner screamed you all over it. Especially the mess of unnecessary amounts of paint brushes, buckets, pencils, tore up paper...
Paint splotches and spills were scattered across your little desk and the floor (the work of you and Jinx).
There's particular squabbles of paint that you don’t mind. A happy face with a squiggly smile that's been there long enough to start chipping away. An uneven mess of hearts scattered in attempt to make the perfect one. Big words that read "I love you" in blue and smaller words next to it, "jinx waz here" in pink. The newest stain is on one of the many cans of your desk, a mark of her kiss. She'd quite literally painted her lips with bright purple and kissed the can, insisting it was there so her toots would never miss her.
Even though there's no time to miss her. Even though she resorts to bringing her work over to your tiny desk instead of keeping it to her very spacious one. You don't mind, the closer to your girlfriend the better. You pretend to be bothered though, only so she'd persist and annoy and squish into your space further.
You tie the apron, generously gifted by Silco, around yourself, excited to (hopefully) start a new, special project. It was gifted reluctantly of course. He tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a very big deal. The eye of Zaun gift giving? Unheard of. You must be special. And you were, according to your blue haired menace that reminded you everyday. The very menace you affectionately named Angel.
"Toots!"
Jinx's gloved hands wrap around your body and suddenly, your back is crunched to her front. Her hands squeeze your tummy while nuzzling her face into you. Clearly she had missed you...for the whole minute you were separated.
It's like she can tell you were thinking it, "What? You didn't miss me while you were gone? You don't seem so excited I'm here." She's teasing like she always does. The edge and rasp in her voice so close to your neck doing wonders to the butterflies in your stomach.
But of course Jinx missed you. Could you really blame her? She hates every second you're apart, and she loves that you do too. So she's open about it, maybe more dramatic and a bit of a show off, but only to make you laugh and see you turn bashful. She loves getting you shy with her affections and teasing, unable to fathom the way you're wrapped around her finger the way she's wrapped around yours.
Your hands delicately grab her small, rough ones, turning yourself around to face her. "Don't even start with me, I'll tickle you to death if you keep up the accusations."
"Is that supposed the be a threat?" And oh, the pout is more real than sarcastic than she wants it to be. Like she genuinely doesn't like the idea of being threatened...by tickles (you know the idea is scary to Jinx, it's the truest form of torture she said once).
"Kind of." Your hands swing in the gap between the two of you. "Hey I actually had an idea. Care to hear?" It's something you've been wanting to do for a while now, giddy at the thought of it. Yet suddenly you find yourself a bit reluctant, still undoubtedly shy around your lover. You hope she'll say yes and that her teasing from this won't be too harsh.
"Hit me with it!"
"Will you let me draw you? Like a full portrait? I promise I'll do you justice!"
Jinx is sorry for it, but she stopped listening immediately, too enraptured by your connected hands, heart beating a little faster at the contact. You'll never know the effect you have on her (or so she thinks), she refuses to get teased even though she loves to tease you. She adores how flustered you get. Teasing is her love language, Jinx's way of showing her love for her toots. And when you decide it's unbearable enough, you'll shut her up with a kiss. Jinx will drag it out and annoy you for that reason alone. She counts on a messy kiss every time.
Unknowing of what to do with the sudden adoration creeping up on her, she pinches your hands hard.
Unfazed, you call her "Angel?"
"Hm?" She looks up and at you with so much affection. So much it stops you for a moment. Your giddiness to do this increases tenfold, her expression killing you in the best way possible. You can be extremely honest about this to soften her up, make her want to say yes.
"I'd like to draw you. Like really, really badly. I have for the longest time. You're just...stupidly pretty and it makes me feel so stupid and I want to scribble your face all over my canvases all the time. So...can I? You'll have to sit for me as reference." You say it as if you don’t have every bit of her memorized, which you completely do.
And for whatever reason, your menace (angel) is stunned. You notice it’s a bad kind of stunned, you realize quickly.
“…Me?”
“Yes?”
“But why?” Jinx asks quiet and unsure of herself. Her eyes look everywhere but you, she tries pulling back but you squeeze her hands. There’s a hint of anxiety around her, something she hasn’t experienced since she met you.
The mood switch and uncharacteristic behavior causes worry to stir in your chest. “Uhh, why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, you’re the prettiest girl in the Undercity and in Piltover! Trust me, none of those snotty ladies are as pretty-”
“You haven’t even been to Piltover.”
“I don’t need to go over there to know they don’t compare to you.”
She heaves a big sigh, your worry growing.
“I just- I'm not pretty or beautiful or any of the things you say I am. You call me angel when I'm far from that! You love art, it’s your thing, toots. Your passion and escape. How can you let someone like me ruin something you love so much? I don’t want to…I don’t know.”
When you don’t answer, she continues.
“I’m not worthy of so much time being spent on something so precious you know?” She says it like she hopes you’ll agree. You won’t.
“Angel,” you let go of her hands to cup her face, needing her to hear you. “Of course you’re worth spending time on. I love you. Do I not say it enough? I know I can be-”
“No, you say it lots and lots!”
“I’ll say it more. I need to make sure you believe it. And guess what? I meant what I said Angel. You’re the prettiest girl. The prettiest to exist. And you’re mine, do you know how lucky I am? You clearly don’t understand how much I feel for you. You’re worth every second I’m gonna spend on your portrait, you understand?”
And finally, her smile is back, gone is the unsure frown.
Jinx nods and you nod while smiling with her, going in for a kiss…multiple kisses. Kisses all over her precious face, because she deserves to feel loved. To know that she’s loved.
You can be put your timidness to the side for the hour. She needs your confidence in your feelings right now. Your confidence in her.
"Now get in my lap, I need a better look at your pretty face." Your teasing demand flusters her. She immediately settles in your lap so your chests touch. It wasn't everyday (really ever) that you spoke to her like that, always too shy to do so. But Jinx finds that she kind of likes it, she wants you to demand contact with her, especially in a position like this. It makes her feel gooey inside. Butterflies uncontainable.
It's not exactly ideal, you're not used to having your girlfriend in your lap while sketching. But you wanted this, and it's not making it impossible. All you have to do is wrap your arms around her pretty waist and rest your chin on her shoulder. It's perfect.
"For science huh? To 'get a better look' at me was it? Toots, if you wanted me in your lap you coulda just said that!" She teases, assuming you just wanted her there to have a more accurate picture.
You quietly confess, "jus' wanted you in my lap." Giving her waist a squeeze while you sketch her jaw.
You can tell you've stumped her (but this time in a good way). She's gone impossibly quiet and still. Warm too, just like she always does when you attempt to flirt. The two of you were truly unable to get over and deal with the timidness of being affectionate. Of being together.
And just like always, she melts. Like how ice cream does in the sun (a sugary delight you've been able to share with Jinx once). Her stiff back let's loose and she squeezes in return. She holds on like you'll disappear. You wouldn't. Not ever, because how could you? When you love her and when she loves you to death?
It’s quiet for the rest of the time you’re drawing, Jinx resorting to drawing patterns on your back, seemingly drifting off at some point. She internally scolded herself for it, not wanting you to think she was bored but it was taking a while. She wanted to have this moment with you though, it was so delicate, something that’s not occurred before. Especially with the earlier conversation. It was special.
You dot the last bit of her freckles on the white sheet. "All done," a kiss to the side of her head that makes her impossibly warm and dig her face deeper. "Needa color it in now." Color it with the paint the two of you always make a mess out of, there's no doubt in your mind it'll happen again.
She turns to finally look at it, her eyes wider than you've ever seen. "Holy shit toots, there's no way you did that!"
"Are you accusing me of cheating?"
"Maybe." She always knew you were the best artist of the Undercity (definitely not biased), you were just that good. But this was different. Was it because it was a drawing of her? Well...it was also the fact that it was so accurate. From her eyes, nose, mouth, jaw...even the way her hair curled in front of her face. And the scars, scars even she herself had forgotten about. But you remembered, you hadn't looked at Jinx once the whole time. You really did have her memorized huh? You didn’t have to say it, the way you insisted she sat in your lap instead of on a different chair for reference and the drawing in front of her is enough proof.
Jinx needed to go look in whatever was left of her shattered mirror to see this. She couldn't believe how pretty she looked on a piece of paper. She couldn't believe you took the time to do this. That you even wanted to in the first place. Jinx has been flustered and felt her heart beating awfully fast just from your gaze alone. But she thinks her heart might be about ready to explode, much like her countless monkey bombs or firelights.
She's unsure how to contain or show this rush of deep, deep affection, so she pushes your face from where it's searching her reaction and jumps out your lap, rushing for your paint cans.
You're kind of confused, but also accepting of her reaction. You're used to it, not that she always runs away due to avoiding feelings. Definitely not. Jinx was one to have so much affection for something or someone that you just...want to pinch, squeeze or...bite it. Luckily she hasn't got you (yet). It was a little shove, probably to prevent herself from sinking her teeth into your cheek. (You truly wouldn't have minded) (you kind of would have, it hurts).
She's back in front of you holding up a bucket half full of bright blue paint. At her feet she's set down small cans of various blues, pinks, and purples. Her favorite colors, obviously.
"Here ya go toots!” There’s no doubt in your mind you’ll be making a mess with the paint when you’re done.
Except, you haven’t even picked out a paint brush before you feel her hands grab your waist from behind, the familiar feeling of paint transferring from her touch to your body.
You look back at her, squinting. “Excuse me?”
“What? Can’t grab my toots’ love handles?”
You turn around, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer to you. You take a peak at her handy work, the blue on your waist making you feel things. You won’t let her know that though.
“Two can play at that game.”
“Try me then toots.”
You release your hands from hers and cup her face with them, leaving blue prints of your palms on her cheeks.
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chiwhorei · 1 year ago
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ʚ Bʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Kɴᴏᴡs Bᴇsᴛ ɞ
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╰┈➤ Big Bro!Yuji Itadori x lil sis!reader
╰┈➤ Request: “pretty please with cherry on top write smth with big brother yuji x hardcore rape or smth,”
╰┈➤ Tags: college/no curses, no edit, short-form, drabble, NSFW, dark, incest, drinking, noncon, good guy Yuji
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Yuji is the sweetest big brother.
He dotes on you at every turn, especially since you picked the same university as your big brother. Yuji was so proud when you told him. Your brother walks you to your morning classes and back to your dorm every day. Yuji insists on carrying your backpack and any stray books you need to lug around. Being a freshman is hard, every gen-ed has a textbook that could double as a brick, and Yuji doesn’t want his perfect little sister to lift a finger when he deems it unnecessary.
Your brother also makes sure you have plenty of fun, that’s what these years are for right? He brings you to all of the upperclassman parties and drives you and your girlfriends home safe. Yuji doesn’t care much for drinking anyway, it’s more fun watching you in this brand new- and kinda scary- environment. Plus, if some guy thinks it wise to come up to you while you and your friends are having fun, Yuji needs to be sharp so he can punch him through a wall.
You’ll never forget the first party your brother ever brought you to, a waisted frat boy spilled his drink down the front of your dress. “Oops,” was his apology, “guess you’ll have to take it off.” Yuji reacted so fast, the last of the drunken strangers words got clipped by the sound of his teeth chipping.
Your heart races at just the memory, the flash of unmistakable rage melting from your brother’s face almost immediately when his attention turned back to you. Shushing you, brushing hair from your face and doing a once over to ensure you hadn’t caught stray droplets of that poor fuckers blood.
It’s not that Yuji’s clueless, he knows that bringing a cute little freshman to the big-kid parties will garner some unfavorable attention. It all evens out, though, when he gets to watch the liquor as it flushes your face and pulls at the hem of your already-too-short dress.
You get so needy after just a few drinks- needy for attention, needy for a dancing partner, needy for another red cup of fruity liquor. And your brother is always there to help.
That’s what he’s made for, Yuji thinks, to be all the things you need. So when the parties start getting slow and you’ve about reached you limit of alcohol before things start getting fuzzy, Yuji’s right there to offer you a steady arm and one last drink.
“I think,” you hiccup, “I think I’m drunk. Like- really drunk.” You extend your vowels in a way that definitely proves you point as Yuji sits you in the passenger seat of his car. You don’t have to tell him, he knows. He’s the one that refills your cup as soon as it’s empty.
You don’t notice where Yuji’s sitting you down until you’re falling back into the mattress. You fist the comforter at your sides, you’re not in your dorm room, you’re in your brother’s apartment.
“Did you have fun tonight?” Your vision is bleary and unable to focus, but you can see the outline of your brother above you. Yuji busies himself with the straps of your heels, but isn’t holding his breath for you to respond.
His hands feel detached as they settle behind your knees, like the skin he’s touching isn’t your own. Your limbs are deadweight, but Yuji is inexplicably strong and pushes your legs up to your chest. The tight dress you wore tonight falls at the front and your tits spill into view.
Yuji takes a moment to enjoy the sight of you in his bed, dress scrunched around your waist and panties long gone. Wait- where did your panties go? You don’t remember taking them off.
“W-wait Yuji, what’s- what’s going on?” The liquor sloshes in your head when your cheek falls to one side, it’s taking too much energy to keep up.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to make you feel good. You trust your big brother right?” And you nod, because of course you do. In times where you can’t think straight, Yuji can do it for you.
A mess of pink hair tickles the inside of your thighs, and a wet-hot tongue is licking long stripes into your pussy. You squeal on contact, and a low groan rips from your brother’s throat.
“Such a sweet little girl.” He whispers into your lips, punctuating with an open-mouth kiss to you clit. He could lick at you like this forever, leave the strain in his jeans to drain all the blood in his head just so he doesn’t have to stop fucking his tongue into you.
“Want you, want you Yuji..” you’re words paw at him, pulling him up to meet your face. He’s got his weeping cock in his fist before you can say another word.
He’ll fuck you into his mattress all night, pump you full of cum, throw you through drunken, dizzy orgasms until your little body goes into tremors.
Because you get whatever you want when it comes to Yuji, because that’s what big brothers are for.
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭
❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2023©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.
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starkeygirlposts · 3 months ago
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Goosebumps in my Sleeve V
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This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline. I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it. Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol 18+ mdni
SERIES MASTERLIST
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THEN
To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.
You���d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”
More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.
Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.
7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?
You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.
You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.
Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.
7:08PM Rafe: This again?
2 more missed calls.
7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?
7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?
7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.
You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.
7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.
You started sharing your location with Rafe.
7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?
7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.
7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.
You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.
You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."
You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.
“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.
He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.
“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.
“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.
“Are you okay?”
You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.
“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"
Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.
You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.
You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.
“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."
The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.
“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…
“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.
You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.
“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.
“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;
“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.
“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"
You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.
“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"
He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"
He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.
“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.
“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.
“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.
You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.
“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.
You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.
Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."
“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.
“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.
You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.
Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.
When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.
You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.
“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.
You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.
You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.
As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.
“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.
You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.
“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?
“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.
“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.
“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.
“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.
“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.
You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.
“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.
“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.
Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.
Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.
He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.
“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.
“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.
You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.
His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.
Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.
“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."
“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.
“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.
“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”
Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.
“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” punctuating with each thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.
He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.
He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.
You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”
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NOW
Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.
Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.
“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.
Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.
It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.
His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”
He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”
You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.
Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.
Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.
No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.
You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.
It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.
For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.
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alessiasfreckles · 11 months ago
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chocolate chip cookies (alessia russo x depressed!reader)
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when you quit the team, feeling lost, no one knows what to do, including you. you spend days curled up in bed, alone, until you meet alessia, your replacement, who brings you out of your shell and helps you find yourself again.
warnings: depression is a big topic in this one! no mention of s/h or suicidal thoughts, just overall depression. if you're feeling depressed, don't hesitate to reach out.
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When you tell the team that you’re quitting, the room goes silent. Then someone bursts out laughing. You’re not sure who, you’re staring at the ground, not wanting to look into the faces of your now former teammates. They think it’s a joke. It’s only when you turn around and leave without another word that they realise you’re being serious. 
And you are. You've already spoken to Jonas - he tried to convince you to stay, but you’d made up your mind. He told you that whilst he couldn’t guarantee there would always be a spot for you on the team, there’d always be a spot for you at the club. You nodded, thanking him quietly. You won’t be going back, you know that, but it seems unnecessary to make this harder for everyone else.
You don’t go back to the training ground after you tell everyone. You’ve already packed all your things in your car, wanting to make your departure quick and easy. On the drive home, your phone keeps buzzing with messages and calls from your former teammates. When you’re at a red light, you turn your phone off.
You decided to leave a while ago. You’ve lost any passion for the game, and when you realised that you were just going through the movements, you decided it would be best for the team if you left. You were dead weight, taking up a spot that could be used by someone else. Someone better. Someone who cares.
When you get home, you leave everything in the car, even your phone. You go inside and go straight to your room, getting into bed. you’re just so tired. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, feeling slightly more peaceful now that you don’t have the prospect of quitting looming ahead. 
You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your front door. Most of the day has passed, it’s getting dark outside. You lie there for a minute, waiting to see if the banging will stop, but it just gets more insistent. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed and to the front door. When it opens, you see the faces of your teammates. Beth, Viv, Leah, Kim, Katie. The core five. They ask what’s going on, say that they’ve been trying to call you and message you all day. You walk past them to your car, get your phone out, shrug. 
“I left my phone in the car,” you say. You watch them exchange glances.
Still, you don’t want to be a bad host. Or a bad friend - if they still consider you a friend. You decide that it’s understandable if they don’t. You invite them in, and they pile onto your sofa. Leah pulls a stool in front of the sofa, telling you to sit down. You sit. Five faces stare at you, expressions ranging from confused to worried to something like anger. 
You didn’t mean to make anyone angry. 
“What’s going on?” Kim asks, her captain voice on. 
You shrug.
“Why would you quit?” Katie asks, frowning. 
I’m not good enough, I'm bringing the team down, I don’t care about playing, the team deserves better, you all deserve better, runs through your head.
You shrug.
“Y/n, is something going on?” Viv asks, her voice gentle. 
I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want to sleep, I wish I didn’t exist, life would be easier if I didn’t exist, I don’t understand why any of you are here, why do you care about me, I don’t care about me, I’m not worth caring about.
You shrug, then shake your head. 
“I just don’t want to play anymore,” you finally say. You’re not sure if it’s the truth or not. You loved playing, once. You loved the feeling that you got when you were on the pitch, the way it made everything else melt away. But you haven’t had that feeling in a while. When you’re on the pitch, the voice telling you you’re not good enough follows you. 
Your former teammates frown. They’re not convinced, and honestly, neither are you. You say that you’re tired, you want to sleep. They get the hint and leave, but not before each hugging you tightly, telling you to call them if you need anything. Beth and Viv promise to bring Myle around at the weekend, and Leah says she’ll come and see you tomorrow. 
They keep it up for a few weeks, but the season is starting, and you know they’re busy. You spend your days at home, curled up in bed, cocooned in a blanket. You watch tv and scroll on your phone for hours. You order the food shopping to be delivered so you don’t even have to leave the house. Someone usually visits you on their day off, and the girls message you. You go over to Beth and Viv’s place, cuddle the dogs, watch tv there instead of in bed at home. It's okay. You’re fine. You don’t feel any better, really, but it’s fine.
It starts when you’re forced to go to a movie night. Leah promises it’s just a small group of the girls, she knows you don’t want to be faced with the whole team. She tells you that there’s one new girl there, the new signing, but that she’s really nice. On the day, you think about ways to get out of it - surely Leah can’t just force you to go? 
She can and she does. She shows up at your house, tells you that she will pick you up and put you in the car if she has to. You crack a smile at the image. It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a while. Leah notices. 
The movie night is at hers. She's picked you up early, and when you get back to her place she sets you to work, chopping fruits and veggies for a snack board. The doorbell rings, the first person arriving. You expect it to be maybe Beth and Viv, who are usually pretty punctual, but it’s the new girl. Alessia. You've seen her in person a couple of times, when the team played against Manchester United last season, but you were already feeling out of it and hadn’t paid much attention to her then.
She comes in, hugs Leah and smiles at you. You smile back. She asks if there’s anything she can do to help, and Leah directs her to some meat and cheese she’s put out that needs slicing. She's been seeing charcuterie boards on instagram a lot lately and wanted to try making one.
“You mean, you wanted to get us to make one for you,” Alessia teases, and you let out a small laugh. It surprises you, and Leah, whose mouth drops open slightly. Alessia doesn’t think twice of it - why would she, she’s never really met you before. She wouldn’t know that it’s the first time anyone has made you laugh in, well, months. 
The evening goes well. It's nice to be around the girls. You don’t pay much attention to the movie, your brain feels too foggy to keep up with it. The mean voice returns, telling you that you’re just there because they feel sorry for you. You start picking at your nails. 
“I like your nail polish,” Alessia leans over and says to you quietly. She’s sat next to you on the sofa. 
“Oh, thanks,” you reply, taken aback. The nail polish is chipped and worn, remnants from Katie coming over and painting your nails a few weeks ago. 
“It's a great colour. I like having my nails done but I'm terrible at leaving them alone. I fidget too much and I'm clumsy so I usually end up breaking at least one,” she tells you, looking at her own nails. 
You nod, not saying anything. You wrack your brain, trying to think of what to say or how to act. It's been so long since you talked to anyone new that you feel like you’ve forgotten how to be normal.
“Um, you can borrow it, if you want,” you say. “The colour, I mean. I can give it to one of the girls to give to you.”
“Really? That’d be great!” she looks at you with a big smile. You feel an odd sensation in your stomach, like you’ve just had a hot drink and the warmth is trying to spread throughout your body.
You nod shyly, giving her a small smile.
After that night, she starts messaging you. The first message you write off as being about the nail polish. After all, why else would she message you? She keeps going, though. After she sends you a message thanking you for the nail polish, she mentions a book she’s reading. You’ve read it too, so you figure the polite thing to do is to ask her what she thinks of it so far. Then she asks you for recommendations. You’ve been reading a lot, lately, now that you have time. You send her a detailed list, then realise that maybe that’s too much, but you’ve sent it now. She replies with heart eyes and exclamation marks, so you think that maybe it was okay after all. 
She asks if she can come over to borrow a book you’ve told her about. After a moment of hesitation, you say yes, she can come over tomorrow afternoon, if that works. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying. The next morning you find a chocolate chip cookie recipe. You used to bake a lot, but you didn’t really have time for it anymore after becoming a professional footballer, and you weren’t meant to be eating that kind of thing anyway. The thought crosses your mind as you mix the ingredients that maybe Alessia won’t want any, since most of the team eat pretty healthily. You keep mixing. It’s too late now, you might as well finish making them.
You’re nervous, waiting for her to arrive. You’re not sure why, probably just because you haven’t interacted with her alone before. You’ve put some cookies out on a plate in case she wants any, and you’ve already got the book she wants to borrow lying on the table. 
When the doorbell rings, it makes you jump. You open the door and she steps inside, immediately giving you a hug, then quickly stepping back.
“Sorry, is hugging okay? I need to get better at checking with people before I hug them,” she says apologetically.
“Hugging is okay,” you nod, and she grins and pulls you into a hug.
“Oh my god, it smells amazing in here!” she exclaims, looking around.
“I made chocolate chip cookies,” you explain, and brace yourself for rejection. “Do you want one?”
“Absolutely!” she says, and you try to hide the surprise on your face. You offer her the plate and she takes one. When she bites into it, she lets out a moan that has you blushing. “Holy shit, y/n, these are incredible! You really made these yourself?”
You feel that warmth pooling in your stomach again. You nod, smiling shyly. 
“You should be a professional baker or something, these are so so good!” she tells you, polishing off the cookie. You can’t help but smile. There are crumbs on the corners of her mouth and a smear of chocolate on her chin.
“You’ve, um, got something,” you say, pointing to your chin. “Right there. A bit of chocolate, I think.”
“Whoops,” she blushes, wiping the chocolate away with a sheepish smile.
“Oh, I have the book you wanted,” you say, figuring that she probably has things to do. 
“Trying to get rid of me so quickly?” she asks.
A pit opens up in your stomach. “No, no!” you quickly insist, but she laughs and waves you off.
“I’m just teasing,” she tells you, smiling. 
You smile back, but it’s forced. It doesn’t seem like Alessia notices, though. 
“You have a lot of books,” she says, eyeing the large bookshelf in your living room. “Have you always read a lot?”
“I used to, when I was little. I didn’t really have time to read as much when I joined the team,” you say, and wince at the mention of your leaving. She’s never brought up the fact that she essentially replaced you, and you don’t want her to.
“I’m guessing leaving the team has given you a lot more time for things like reading?” she asks, and you nod. 
“And baking,” you add, not wanting it to seem like you’ve just been sitting at home not doing anything since you left. Even if that is the truth. She doesn’t need to know that today is the first time you’ve baked in, well, years.
“True, that one is very important!” she says, taking another cookie from the plate. “Seriously, y/n, these are amazing.”
She keeps asking you things, about yourself, about books, about your life, and you don’t realise how much time has passed until you look outside to see that it’s gotten dark. She follows your gaze out of the window and jumps up.
“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was! I really should get going,” she says apologetically.
You hold out the plate of cookies. “Want one for the road?”
The two of you message more after that. It’s weird, how easy it is to talk to her. You chalk it up to the fact that she never met you before you left. This is the only version of you she knows. She doesn’t expect anything from you.
A couple weeks later, she asks if she can borrow another book. This time she wants you to recommend something for her, and you pore over your bookshelf for hours, trying to find the perfect book for her. Once you’ve decided on one, the next task you’re faced with is what to bake this time. She didn’t mention anything about it, but after she enjoyed your cookies so much, it feels like it’d only be right to bake something again. 
This time you make pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. You carefully mould little pumpkins out of marzipan to decorate the cupcakes, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the look of astonishment on her face when she eats one and lets out a moan at how good it is. She keeps commenting on the little pumpkins, in awe at the fact that you made them by hand, and the warm feeling spreads throughout your body, making your fingers tingle. After she leaves, armed with a new book and two more cupcakes, you get a message from Leah, inquiring about where her cupcake is, and how come Alessia gets cupcakes but you’ve never baked anything for her, and you smile to yourself.
The days in between visits are not as good. You still spend a lot of time curled up in bed. Sometimes, you think about the future, and you usually end up falling asleep trying not to think about it, brain spiralling. 
This goes on for a few months. Every couple of weeks, Alessia visits you for a new book and some new baked goods, and every time the two of you spend a little longer talking. You both avoid the topic of you leaving the team and what you’re going to do next. You have enough money in savings that it’s not something you have to worry about, for a while at least, and thinking about it makes you want to cry, or sleep, or just not exist anymore.
One day, though, Alessia is sitting on your sofa, eating a slice of lemon cake, when she asks gently, “What are you doing, y/n?”.
The question is enough to make you burst into tears, tears that you didn’t know you’d been holding in. 
“I don’t- I don’t know,” you sob helplessly as she rushes to your side, pulling you into a hug.
“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks after you’ve calmed down a little.
The question makes you stop. You haven’t thought about that in forever. 
“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play football,” you shrug. 
“But… not anymore?” she prompts you. You can understand why she’d think that. You quit, after all.
“I don’t know. I think I do still want to play, just… not at that level. It was too much. I feel like I-” you trail off, sighing. “I feel like I lost myself. And I still don’t know where I am, or who I am. Everything just feels so hard, like it’s all so much effort, and like there’s nothing I can do to stop it all from happening, like it’s a huge wave and I’m just getting tossed around under the water, barely able to come up for air.”
She nods, not saying anything, and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment for opening up like that.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that, I-” you say, but she cuts you off.
“No, it’s okay! I asked, I want to know. And it makes sense. A friend of mine struggled with depression a lot when we were teenagers, and-”
“Wait, depression? You think I’m depressed?” you ask, confused. Alessia laughs gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Oh, I’m 99% sure you’re depressed,” she says. 
“Wha- I’m not depressed,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s not like I want to hurt myself or anything.”
“Okay, but do you ever feel like it would be easier if you didn’t exist?” she asks, and you frown. “Or, like, have you lost interest in things you were previously passionate about? Do you feel tired all the time?”
“Okay,” you say, slowly. “So, maybe I’m a little depressed.”
The mean voice at the back of your mind laughs. 
“What if I’m just being dramatic, though?” you ask. “Plus, I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good life, I have nothing to worry about.”
“Look, what if you go and see someone? A doctor, or a therapist?” she suggests, and your cheeks burn at the thought of burdening someone else with your problems.
“No, it’s fine, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand. “There’s definitely more important stuff they have to deal with. I’m fine, seriously.”
She raises an eyebrow but drops the topic. She brings it up the next time she comes over though, and the next, and the next. You think about it a lot.You look stuff up online, look at social media accounts talking about people’s experiences, buy books dealing with the subject. 
The next time she comes over, you tell her you’ve made an appointment with a therapist, and she hugs you tightly. 
You start seeing each other weekly, after that. Sometimes she’ll go to yours, sometimes you’ll go to hers. She’s on a mission to help you figure out what you want, and nothing is going to stop her. She buys you baking books and equipment, goes to galleries and museums with you, watches documentaries on pretty much everything and anything the two of you can find. When you mention that you’ve been thinking about learning how to play the piano, she helps you find a teacher nearby. 
Things are looking up. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you’re feeling better. Your therapist is good, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re in a position to be able to pay for private therapy. 
When Alessia rings your doorbell, you don’t think anything of it. You’d planned for her to come over to watch a documentary she’d found about llamas (you weren’t sure what revelation you were going to have about your future from watching something about llamas, but who were you to deny her?). When you open the door, she’s smiling from ear to ear and holding a box.
“I have a surprise for you,” she says, closing the door behind her gently as she comes in.
She carefully sets the box down and opens it to reveal a small ginger kitten. It looks up at you with wide eyes and lets out a small meow, then puts its paws up on the edge of the box, looking out curiously.
“Alessia, what is this? Whose kitten is this?” you ask, dumbfounded.
“Yours?” she asks, smiling sheepishly. 
“What do you mean, mine?” 
“I mean, she’s your kitten. If you want her? Oh god, please say you want her. It’s just, you talked about having a cat when you were younger, and how much you’d like to have one again, and I figured they’re a lot lower maintenance than dogs, and-” she’s cut off by you hugging her tightly. Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them away fiercely, still hugging Alessia. 
A small mew alerts you to the kitten, who has jumped out of the box and is rubbing her head against your leg. 
“I have her stuff in the car,” Alessia says, nodding towards the door. “I’ll just go get it?”
You nod, unable to look at anything but the tiny kitten now trying to clamber up your leg. 
You’ve been seeing your therapist for about 6 months when Alessia asks you to be her girlfriend. It’s a couple months after she got you Dorothea - Dory for short (or Dorito, occasionally), as you’d named the ginger kitten. You’re stunned, but quickly nod yes as she starts to bite her lip, looking worried at your lack of answer. You hug her, feeling her breathe a sigh of relief against you, and when she kisses you she tastes like the chocolate chip cookies you’d made earlier that day, the same recipe as the first time she’d come over. 
Your therapist has been helping you figure out what you want, now that you’re slowly regaining some of the passion you’d lost. You decide that you do still want to do something with football, just, as you’d told Alessia, not professional football. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed having time to yourself, having other hobbies outside of your work. 
You get in contact with Jonas, who puts you in contact with some other people, and before you know it you’re back at the club. Not on the team, you've made it pretty clear that that’s not what you want. Instead, you’re spending the day at the youth program. You already know by lunch time that this is what you want to do. 
Before you know it, you’re settled in as a coach for the Academy. Your days consist of working with kids, young people who have the whole world ahead of them. You still have bad days sometimes, where it feels like you can’t get out of bed. On days like that Dory cuddles up next to you in bed, and Alessia holds you close. She moves in after you get the job, claiming it makes sense, since you’re always either at her place or she’s at your place anyway. She insists that she’s still very much a dog person, but you catch her asleep on the sofa one evening, with Dory curled up on her lap, and you smile.
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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months ago
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hello hello can i ask for reader (either new transfer or someone they're just consulting with) hellbent on avoiding and not talking to spencer bcs he keeps rambling off about stuff everytime they're in his vicinity but they just have a really bad history of men mansplaining things to them so even tho spencer doesn't give off that vibe they just can't help but be sensitive to it 😔🤲🏻
tweaked jussst a bit gn!reader. i need to work on making my brain bigger so i can give more detail for spencer.
“well there many ways one can create their own bomb. they could use proper chemical equipment or just simple house hold items you can buy from anywhere.”
“well actually there’s only four ways to create one and most people go the homemade route. which is the most difficult to trace due to them being bought in plain sight.” a tall, skinny agent beside a man in the well pressed suit just reiterated what you said. you took an exhale through your nose to withhold an eye roll.
“yes, what i said. sulfuric acid is a common ingredient so i’d look into people’s recent purchases and cross reference that with their past criminal history.” you moved around lab as you shuffled and stacked papers, “if you need anymore help seems you already have someone with the answers. good luck.” leaving the two federal agents behind as you exited into the hallway with a tiny chip sitting on your shoulder.
what was the reason to seek you out if they already had someone who’d know their answers? probably once they saw who you were they wanted to intimidate you, that one guy wanted to show off that he knew the same information as you. no one ever gave you the respect in this department, many ‘colleagues’ have taken credit for work that you’ve done. they always talk over you or explain a concept that you already knew, seeing as you were in the same field as said mansplainer.
“someone looks to be in a mood.” oh great, if your hour couldn’t get worse. you didn’t bother looking at dr. fray, he was said mansplainer that always thought he was more inept when really you have a higher standing than him.
“since you left those agents on their own i stepped up to help them by giving further detail into their investigation. just helped save some lives, no big dealio.” your periphery saw how he walked with a certain air about him, one that many men carry without a care in the world.
you rolled your eyes as you kept walking to your office, “whatever. they already have someone who knows this information so we weren’t needed anyway.” you pulled your keys from your coat pocket, “well it was not fun walking with you. off you go, fray.” shielding yourself by throwing the door in his face.
you wanted to be away from any type of male for the rest of the day, not wanting to hear their unnecessary chatter, they just like the sound of their own voice. neatly arranging your files on your desk and placing your coat over the back of your chair you were ready to finish some documents when there was a gentle knocking to your door. you weren’t expecting anyone for a meeting so when you were faced with the lanky agent from earlier you couldn’t help as your face shifted into one of annoyance before shifting into neutral.
“was there something you needed, dr. reid?” arms crossed defensively over your chest. you internally hated how he seemed to know almost everything know to man and he seemed to be about your age. you wanted to rip your hair out halfway through your bachelors degree.
dr. reid’s mouth was pressed into a tight line, his fingers twiddling with this satchel strap over his chest. “i- uh i overheard a bit of your- your conversation and just wanted to… apologize?” he ended with a question.
your brows quirked, “apologize? for what?” confused on what was happening. men rarely apologized to you, you’ve been ran down on the street by guys who don’t care about anyone else on the street.
“i didn’t mean to overstep earlier. i understand to an extent what it feels like for people to talk over you or just ignore what you’ve said.” your anger melted just a bit at his words, “and i know for you it’s harder. there’s statistically less then 0.05% of non white males in many fields. i can tell you worked hard to be in this position, so i apologize for earlier.” his mouth probably ran just a tad faster than his brain.
you dropped your defensive stance, hands to link at the bottom of your stomach as you gave dr. reid a friendly smile, the first of the day. “thank you, dr. reid. i appreciate that you recognized your actions and acknowledged my feelings.”
he rocked on his feet, “you can call me spencer.” he said shyly, “also i’ve read a couple of your thesis. and if you have the time when this is over i’d- i’d love to discuss them with you.” you noted how his cheeks started to tint into hues of pink, it was cute.
“would be nice to talk with someone that has a fully functioning brain. you know where to find me, spencer.”
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omppupiiras · 4 months ago
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a quickkkk rough translation if anyone's interested:
"I put ketchup on almost all foods"
Artist Jere Pöyhönen is not a morning person and he uses the snooze-button, and you shouldn't ask for cleaning tips from him. In his daily life he tries to avoid unnecessary complaining, because at the end of the day things are pretty good.
In the morning when I wake up, I hit the snooze button and keep laying in bed. Sometimes I snooze for 1-2 hours if I'm not in a hurry to get anywhere. I am for sure a night person, so my mornings are slow.
For breakfast I usually eat porridge, to which I add peanut butter and honey, and with it I have a cup of berry tea. Breakfast is something I've tried to get better at, because when you're in a rush it's easy to skip it.
To me it's a luxury to spend relaxed time with my close ones. The best thing is to spend a slow evening with friends, for example a barbeque party. Friends and food - there's no better combo!
I get inspiration for cooking from my mom. Mom likes trying different foods, and everytime I visit I grab a few recipes for my backpocket. Last time I made a chicken and potato casserole dish inspired by my mom.
In my shopping basket you'll often find chili-cheese-sausages and an energy drink. The latter I've tried very hard to consume less. They're not good for your teeth or wallet.
My specialty dish is thai mince meat with rice. For seasoning I use oyster sauce, garlic, sugar, basil and chili. When I was younger I liked to bake a lot, but I stopped when I moved out on my own.
I wish I'd learn to eat more regularly, every few hours. When your job is being on the move, sometimes the times between meals get too long. When you're hungry it's easier to snack on treats, like chocolate and chips.
My normal home evening ends in front of the TV either on the living room couch or in my bedroom. Usually I always watch a tv show or a movie before bed.
My best money saving tip is buy discounted food items at a good price. Then it's handy to immediately put them in the freezer at home and cook later.
I scrimp on bread toppings, like cheeses and cold cuts. I'm not brand loyal with them and usually choose what i grab first.
I get fancy with my glögi, I am its biggest consumer! It's my favorite drink and I have it all year.
My everday superpower is that I don't take things too seriously. Everyday I am grateful for what I get to do for a living, and I don't ever take it for granted. In general I think it's good to avoid complaining too much and try to keep a positive mindset: at the end of the day things are pretty good.
I clean at home about once a week, but I admit, I could be better. I don't spend a lot of time at home, so sometimes my clothes get everywhere and the dishes get piled up in the sink. You shouldn't ask for cleaning tips from me!
My guilty pleasure is squirting ketchup in mince meat soup. It tastes excellent in there. In general I have ketchup with pretty much all foods.
My Pirkka hack is using baking soda to get rid of stains. It's especially great with textiles. With baking soda I've gotten rid of many stains and dirt off of the couch.
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gunpowderdtim · 1 year ago
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i wonder what me and @miralines rpverse ouatisblr would look like
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🌅 atypicalarielien follow 🔁 antiroyalribbons follow
🤡 normalpeopleonly follow
dni if you think that freckles luck should in ANY way be involved in goverment. i mean she's a rose red why should we ever trust that? theyre all monsters i thought this was well established when they FUCKING KILLED US FOR 30 YEARS??? wtf
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🥀 antiroyalribbons follow
uh freckles luck did NOT spend 30 fucking years fighting for the rebels for you to call her a rose red. she's made it clear she's just a normal person dozens of times what is WRONG with you
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🤡 normalpeopleonly follow
she's still a fucking clone. they put chips in their brains, did you know that? theyre all mind controlled and shit why should we ever fucking trust one. with fucking government programs. i dont care if she 'seems' 'normal' she's just a rose red. i dont get why they didn't kill them all anyway
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🥀 antiroyalribbons follow
SHE'S A WAR VETERAN?????? BRUH. you owe your freedom to her she helped kill the fucking king?????
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⚫ zanti-deactivated02334432
I think mentioning she assisted the new regime is unnecessary. RR-11678 betrayed the crown in 4395. I think either way she should be shot. Rose Reds, especially defective ones are a hazard. She betrayed the king once. If the new "president" Marion Belle were any sort of intelligent she would have her killed. She betrayed once. She could do it again.
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🥀 antiroyalribbons follow
oh now the crown loyalists are here. @normalpeopleonly look what you attracted. this is why we shouldn't give people like op energy
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🌅 atypicalarielien follow
bros stop reblogging this it has captain luck fucking id in it she's said like twice to stop spreading that information further...
1,312 notes
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🌅 atypicalarielien follow 🔁 zanti2 follow
🌅 atypicalarielien follow
you guys ever think about how hot rose reds are 😳🏳️‍🌈
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🪙 zanti2 follow
they are not people.
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🌅 atypicalarielien follow
motherfucker you made an alt just to harass me i get it you're a crown loyalist why dont you go suck coles dick. oh wait. he's dead. maybe you should join him
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🥀 antiroyalribbons follow
everyone should read Althea Black's new book: The Army With a Single Face: Firsthand Accounts of Rose Reds in the Crown War. it really puts the whole war from the perspective of a rose red into mind. really fucked up.
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🟥 realredhood follow 🔁 antiroyalribbons follow
🪫 ravenousrebeliousraven follow
crazy how president marion belle and her husband are getting divorced... guess that's what the war ending does do a relationship
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🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️
its because belle sucks ass lmafo
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🪫 ravenousrebeliousraven follow
RED HOOD?????
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🥀 antiroyalribbons follow
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only on sptumblr do we get war veterans gossiping about divorses. i guess. also is this government secrets or
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🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️
:3
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🌅 atypicalarielien follow
can't believe that people threw rocks at fucking Rose Prince on the beach like. what. she's not a giant literally look at her stature..... this was like 3 miles from my house hell world can i move to fucking mulberry or some shit
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🟥 realredhood follow ☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️☑️
if i get 100k notes ill leak crown and rebel documents on my sptwitch
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kanejbr3kker · 7 months ago
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Okay I need to vent. This morning I saw this on my fyp:
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(btw I'm choosing not to reblog the original post and instead just post screenshots because this is definitely a rant and since the creator and I clearly have different opinions, so I decided it's just better to leave them out of this)
Anyways, I saw this and I got pissed. Very very pissed. And so I spent 2 and a half hours writing a whole three page essay explaining everything wrong with this.
So here it is. (:
First of all, the Darkling does every single thing listed here for Nikolai, excluding cutting people’s fingers off, but he does commit mass murder, which I personally consider to be worse than cutting off someone’s fingers. 
Anyways, let’s first just address Nikolai’s reasons for doing each of these things and then the Darkling’s reasons for doing the same things.
Cutting the fingers off a man: Nikolai was a teenager who wanted to help his incredibly war torn country. He felt helpless, and even once he became a privateer, a lot of people still disrespected him because of his age, so he proved his ruthlessness by injuring one person, so he could help save his entire country. 
Usurping the throne: First of all, Nikolai was second in line to the throne, and after Vasily died, he would’ve been first. Also, the current king was an ignorant rapist who let the rest of the country go to waste to fuel his own luxuries. Nikolai wanted to rescue his country from war and a ruler that was doing nothing to stop hundreds of people (many of them kids) from dying in unnecessary battles.
Lying to Alina/hiding information from her: All Nikolai did was hide his identity from Alina to get her safely away from the Darkling who had just kidnapped her for the second time in less than a year. Kissed her without her consent: Okay, let’s just preface this by saying Malina was what got me hyperfixated on the Grishaverse, so seeing Nikolai kiss Alina did upset me, but he did it spread hope to the Ravkan villagers. They were also already spreading around a fake engagement, so while it was wrong, it wasn’t like he was trying to manipulate her. Nikolai was just trying to make their marriage more believable. (I’d also like to address a scene later in the book where Alina actually wants Nikolai to kiss her, and he says no, knowing that she just wants a distraction and isn’t really in love with him).
And now for why the Darkling did all the same things. 
Trying to usurp the throne: The Darkling hates the king, but not because he’s a terrible person, but because he’s ignorant and the Darkling knows he could be using the Fold to expand Ravka’s power. The Darkling usurps the throne so he can try and take over the country, not because he wants to save it.
Lying to Alina/hiding information from her: Unlike Nikolai, he wasn’t trying to protect her. The Darkling lied to Alina so she would believe that 1) he was in love with her and 2) he wanted to save Ravka. We know this isn’t true. When Nikolai lies, he does it to protect Alina, but when the Darkling lies he does it to manipulate her.
Kissed Alina without her consent: The Darkling tried to convince Alina he was in love with her so she would be easier to manipulate. Alina even says she doesn’t know how he feels about her, and that she doesn’t believe he loves her, but that she wants to be wanted by him. 
And now for everything else the Darkling does:
Mass murder: He destroyed an entire town just to prove a point. 
“Gifting” Genya to the Lantsovs, and then allowing her to be continually raped by them
for years. More than anything else, I feel like this proves just how terrible he is.
Killing his own mother: No explanation needed, that’s just awful.
Threatening to kill Mal to make sure Alina stays in line. He enslaved Alina. He put an unremovable collar around her neck that forced her to do whatever he wanted, and then promised to kill her boyfriend just in case that wasn’t enough.
Using kids as bargaining chips. Using grown people is bad enough, but kids. Sure, they’re Grisha, but they aren’t strong enough to fight back, especially after seeing their captor kill Ana Kuya, who helped care for them while they were in hiding. (Also just felt like adding that Nina was one of the students who he used as a bargaining chip. That’s honestly pretty unimportant, but if you needed another reason to hate him.)
Killing Alina’s mother figure: Again, he did this just to prove a point. He wanted to show Alina that he could hurt the people she cared about, and that was his only incentive.
So that the first 75% of my rant, but I also made the mistake of looking at the comments on that post and added a whole extra page responding to those.
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Saying that the same thing can be applied to Kaz is so fucking disrespectful. Kaz is a traumatized teen. Is he violent? Yes. But he only hurts people who have hurt him, his friends, or other innocent people. Oomen nearly killed Inej, as well as the other crows, so Kaz hurt him because he cared about his friends and was mad that they were almost killed. When the Darkling kills people, it’s out of greed for power and the fact that he knows it’ll get a rise out of Alina.
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And then this. Kaz calls Inej an investment because he values her. She said four words to him and chose to pay off her indenture. She ended up being not only an incredible spy, but an incredible friend as well. Kaz didn’t need to pay off her indenture, but he did because despite everything terrible that he does, he’s still a genuinely good person, and didn’t want to see a woman being exploited the way she was. An investment is something you value, which is why Kaz calls her one.
Also, Kaz makes a big point of Inej not belonging to anyone. He didn’t force her to get the Dregs tattoo, because he didn’t “want to be the one to mark her again.” He recognized that she was an independent person, and by not making her have the tattoo, he was giving her the freedom to leave Ketterdam when her indenture was paid off. Also, when Inej tells Kaz she wants to leave Ketterdam, he literally buys her a boat so she can leave. That’s not how you treat your property.
And as for the Darkling, he used Alina’s power to start a civil war. What he does is beyond redemption. The Darkling exploits and manipulates women. He abuses and assaults them to reach his own goals, most of which involve destroying the rest of the world so that Ravka stays in power. Comparing him to two kids who just do what they have to to survive is so disrespectful, and clearly you misunderstood the messages of the books if you think that Kaz and Nikolai are the same as the Darkling.
So that's my little anti-Darkling rant. I've already tortured my frienda with this, so if they didn't think I was insane before, they do now lol.
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sturnioloshacker · 1 year ago
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boyfriend vs brother: the ice cream wars - a chris & nick sturniolo short
a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended
summary: when two brothers are at war over ice cream, it’s the girlfriend of the youngest brother who steps in to make things right, or does she? 
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she may be in a sweet and loving relationship with the youngest sturniolo triplet, but y/n has a unique bond with the oldest triplet. nick and y/n have been best friends since fifth grade after y/n moved to boston from seattle. it was from there that nick introduced her to his two younger brothers matt and chris, who absolutely adored having her as a friend. as the years went by, both y/n and chris fell for each other and after getting nick’s approval, the two started dating and later became boyfriend and girlfriend.
this relationship didn’t stop her friendship with nick, oh no! the amount of inside jokes and secrets shared between the two had everyone around them baffled, including her own boyfriend. the amount of teasing that came with their friendship, oh boy! every car video that featured y/n, chris and nick always managed to start an argument. being best friends, y/n always took nick’s side, leaving chris to have to fend for himself as matt had left the car until it was complete silence. 
this happened once again today. y/n opened the front door of the triplets’ house to hear chris and nick in a screaming match. with a roll of her eyes, she makes her way upstairs to see what the unnecessary fuss is all about. as she got to the top of the stairs, y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that the two brothers were arguing over the best ice cream flavour. as their argument escalated, with each of them raising their voices and gesticulating wildly over whether chocolate chip cookie dough or mint chocolate chip is better, y/n sauntered into the living room space, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“okay, okay, you two, we need to settle this once and for all.” she chuckled
 y/n knew exactly what she was planning and she couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her boyfriend. 
“let’s have a taste test! i’ll be the judge!” she said with a sly grin.
“no fair! you’re just gonna pick nick as the winner because you’re besties!” chris whines.
“no I won’t, baby! it’s all about picking the best flavour!”
“liar.” chris grumbles under his breath.
y/n grabbed both tubs of ice cream from the freezer, she puts a couple of scoops of each flavour into two bowls before setting them down on the dining table in front of her. with two spoons for each tub in one hand and a notebook in the other, she took her role very seriously. she sampled both ice creams, making dramatic faces and comparing notes on flavour, texture, and sweetness. meanwhile, chris and nick are elbowing and punching each other over which flavour she’ll pick. taking one more bite of each, she makes a delighted face at the cookie dough flavour while gagging at the mint chocolate chip flavour, causing both brothers to punch and shove each other once again. 
“okay, i have made my decision! the best ice cream flavour is…. chocolate chip cookie dough!”
nick screams with glee as he runs up to his best friend, giving her the biggest hug before yelling at chris.
“i fucking told you! you don’t mess with cookie dough! yes!” nick yells.
“yeah! don’t mess with cookie dough! besides, mint choc chip ice cream is shit!”
“hey! you take that back, princess!” chris shouts, a hint of sadness lacing his voice.
nick takes the winning tub up to his room where he eats it in happiness while y/n walks over to the couch where her boyfriend sulks and pouts like a toddler. pulling him into a hug, y/n reassures him that she still loves him, to which chris forgives her and pulls her into for a gentle kiss on the lips. chris couldn’t help but laugh, realising that no matter the situation, he will always be outnumbered by his girlfriend and his brother. 
and so it went in their relationship. y/n’s friendship with nick remained unbreakable, and whenever an argument broke out, she always seemed to take her boyfriend's brother's side, often teasing chris alongside nick. it added a unique and light-hearted dynamic to their love story, reminding them all that the bonds of friendship and family could coexist and thrive in the most unexpected ways.
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monoclesnapple · 8 months ago
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Teefer Misser
Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara X Gender Neutral Reader Summary: Before Chuuya left, he had fangs. Now he has dents. Beginning Note: Spoilers for Season 5 and Chapter 114.5! (Imma just say, if you have an idea or a request, I encourage you to share! I'd love to receive any requests for the fandoms I write for [In my intro]) Chuuya calls you "Doll" once Word Count: 950 (Fluff/Little crack)
When Chuuya came home one night and told you that he had to leave to Europe for a while. you weren’t happy about the situation. You knew that the world was in danger and Chuuya had to play his part to prevent catastrophe, but that didn’t mean you were content with it. Still, you helped him ready himself, with the contacts and the fangs. Despite the dreadful atmosphere, you found it amusing that he had to look like a vampire. Sure, these types weren’t the sexy ones in fiction, but Chuuya pulled off the look.
Even with the red eyes, you loved his appearance, especially the clothing he was wearing. When he stood at the door, ready to depart to the Port Mafia headquarters for a final, unnecessary briefing, you kissed him goodbye. His lips molded to your own, tongues dancing together, feeling each other thoroughly for the last time until his return. You loved the feeling of his fangs, even though he loathed wearing them. They weren’t too sharp, but if you poked hard enough, it could cause a little spike of delicious pain.
Finally, the two of you separated and bid each other farewell. He left out the door and won’t come back for a while. During that time, your mind wandered to him. You looked forward to seeing him again, hoping he’d still have the fangs for just a tad longer so it could spice up your occasional entanglement. When Fyodor was killed and Chuuya could drop the act, he contacted you with his phone he kept on silent. Apparently, Mori had added glue to keep the fangs on.
While Chuuya thought it stupid and the worst situation, you found an opportunity in it. Guess he really can’t take them off, so you’ll send him to the dentist after you had some fun.
Unfortunately, everything was spiraling downhill, Fyodor wasn’t actually dead, and the new problem would take up a lot of time. You knew Chuuya couldn’t keep the accessory on for the whole time, but there was that slightest hope he could get used to it until he could properly set up an appointment with a dentist.
When he at last returned home, safe and eager to see you again, he pulled you into a kiss just like the one from the time he left. You ran your tongue along his teeth, but instead of feeling extensions of his teeth, you felt the opposite. Why did your tongue go straight, up, straight, and up again? Shouldn’t it either continue in a steady line, or down and away from his teeth?
Feeling the abnormality, you pulled away and pushed his lips up to reveal his teeth. He lightly protested, but allowed you to do so with sagging shoulders. What you found wasn’t exactly what you expected.
“Why are your teeth chipped?” you inquired, but you had an idea as to what happened.
“I uh..” Chuuya scratched his head awkwardly and averted his eyes, “I pulled off the fangs.”
“I know that, but why couldn’t you wait until after you came back? Or at least go to a dentist so they could handle it.”
“I didn’t wanna have to deal with them, so I got them off. ‘S fine, anyways, ‘m not dead.” He closed his eyes and crossed his arms.
You stared at him blankly before taking his wrist and taking him outside to his motorcycle. “Nope, you’re going to a dentist now, whether you like it or not. I’m not going to kiss my significant other if he has teeth missing all because he was too impatient to wait for a professional to handle things.”
“Wha?- Oi! Knock it off! I’m tired, and I doubt they’re even taking in anyone who just walks in without an appointment!” He tried to resist, but relented when he saw that you won’t back down.
“I don’t give a fuck if they’re not doing so, I’m going to ensure you get the treatment you need. Why couldn’t you even wait? Surely, you would’ve been able to get accustomed to the fangs.” You were in front of him on the bike, with his hands lazily around your waist. At least he had taught you how to drive a motorcycle, so now he doesn’t have to exhaust himself further by driving.
Chuuya groaned and rested his forehead on your back. “Not even gonna wear a helmet? Dangerous, Doll.”
“Like you wear one,” you muttered back. This was going to be a long night, but it’s his fault for chipping his teeth. In the back of your mind, you did feel bad that he couldn’t rest after coming back. You hadn’t accelerated yet, still parked, so you turned your head to him. “I’m sorry that you can’t relax after a long mission. We can just drive around and save the dental treatment for another time. I know you’re beyond exhausted.”
He moved his head to rest his chin on your shoulder and press a kiss to your cheek. “I’d love that. ‘M sorry for being such an idio-”
“My apologies for not caring. After this, I’ll prepare a bath for you and get some snacks. Then, we can just cuddle and watch a movie, yeah?” You tilted your head, keeping your eyes on him.
His eyes were closed as he imagined your suggestion, and smiled softly. “Mhm... I just wanna spend time with my love before I have to drown myself in paperwork. ‘S a plan.”
With that, you started the bike and sped along the streets, admiring the city lights. Chuuya may be impulsive, but at least he’s making his choices with the betterment of the world in mind. Some exceptions, though.
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attapullman · 9 months ago
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Thinking about neighbor!bob, as usual, and thinking about how when they finally are official and not being secretive anymore, them getting to go grocery shopping together and thinking about how they keep grabbing double of everything because they are so use to storing one another’s favorites at their respective homes.
Okay bye.
Linds 😭😭
I'd like to think once the relationship goes public the two basically move into neighbor!Bob's house - he has a better yard and Reader likes his kitchen nook.
And sure enough after their first grocery shop together - trading off pushing the cart and bantering over which sugar cereal is better. Checking out while he holds a sure hand around your waist and shows the coupons he dutifully clips because he's a mindful consumer.
It's not until you get back to his cute house with the oxford blue walls and start unloading the groceries that you realize just how many of your favourites he's stocked up. The tea you always drink before bed, the chips you like with your lunch, the creamer you put in your coffee. The entire bag of items you've just purchased is unnecessary. He blushes, explaining how he always wanted to be prepared, and pops the extras into the pantry for safe keeping.
Pressing kisses to your lips as you put away his half of the groceries, promising he'll put a list on the fridge so that this won't happen again.
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highonmarvel · 1 year ago
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Tempest
Bucky Barnes: The storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the one in here.
An entry for day nine of the exciting @sintember challenge!
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Prompt: Tempest, ft Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Warnings: severe anxiety; hints and mentions of claustrophobia (and it’s a bit of a theme that carries throughout); chasing; physical abuse. 18+!
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The house rocks as you slam the door shut behind you, half the force coming from your worry and the other half by nature’s ire. You had really cut it close getting last minute supplies, and on the short drive back from the mall, you actually worried you’d cut it too close as your car was nearly thrown off the road. A hurricane was starting, bad, but not severe enough to warrant any measures too drastic. Still, you decided to play it safe—though one could argue that rule was broken when you were driving in the beginning of a storm.
You drop the shopping bag on the kitchen counter, no sign on Bucky. Usually he sits on one of the stools at the island waiting to rummage through whatever you had picked up for plums. Of course, you had.
“Bucky?” you call as you pop the fruit into the fridge. The rest was either canned or packets of goodies, which you stuffed into the kitchen cupboard before heading to the living room.
“Bucky?” you call again as the house rocks again, and maybe he didn’t hear you over the noise.
Maybe he was in the basement. You quickly jog back to the kitchen to grab a bag of chips and start your decent to the basement. A basement was really unnecessary for the life you and Bucky live, but this house, you had both fallen in love with at first sight (much like how you two first met) and purchased it together. It was practically empty; you thought it could at least be useful for storage, but you two didn’t have anything unneeded; it was either useful, and therefore in use, or not in the house. It was at least a safe place were something like a tornado to hit. You hadn’t been down in years, not since you first bought the place. Bucky went down there every two or three months to stop it being overrun by dust bunnies, but that was it.
Lately, Bucky had been having nightmares, more often than usual, and you always got the feeling he was trapped; trapped in his body that had done so much against his will, and it worried you when the storm warning was issued: he was trapped once again.
“Bucky?” you call as you open the door to the basement. It’s pitch black, so you assume he’s not down here, but to be sure, you flick on the lights. Staring back at you is your husband, seated perfectly still, facial expression stone, legs positioned and back straight in a way one is taught is perfect posture, with his palms resting on his knees.
“Hi, Buck,” you greet, smiling as you make your way down. He doesn’t smile back, doesn’t greet back, he remains a statue, only bright blue eyes following your movement. They’re not bright, they’re dark.
“You’re scaring me a bit,” you admit with a nervous laugh when you hold out the bag of chips to him and he makes no move to take them, doesn’t even look at them, gaze still boring straight into your soul. He’s always seen right through you, but now, it’s not an understanding he’s attempting to achieve, you can’t tell what it is. Intimidation?
“Bucky?”
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
You take a step back, physically unable to gasp despite your desire to as you feel your air flow cut off by his words, only able to throw a hand over your mouth. But… why would he? What happened? He can’t slip back unless someone says so, can he? This isn’t your husband. This is…
“Soldat?” you whisper, lowering your cupped hand from your mouth slightly so he can hear you. You think he missed it for a second due to your small voice, but he stands.
Of course Bucky is taller than you, but even if he wasn’t, this isn’t just a height different, he towers over you like the dark clouds tower over your home outside; he towers over you in demeanour alone; he could be kneeling right now but still, that stare would let you know your place immediately.
What do you do? Of course you want to help him, but this isn’t Bucky; what can you do? Even if by the Lord’s greatest miracle, there was not even a wisp of a chance you stood against the world’s deadliest assassin.
But why would he hurt you? You were absolutely no one special, no powers or access to anything to do with the Avengers, intel or otherwise. It didn’t make sense for him to attack you. But that absolutely was not a risk you were willing to take.
You’re trembling, shaking harsher than the winds were rocking the trees, you felt like one of them, maybe; just a part of nature, pretty much inconspicuous, caught in a harsh tempest.
You throw the bag at him, turn, and run; there was no way in hell you could go outside, but maybe you could lock him in the basement. You practically fly up the stairs, and you swear he’s taunting you as he takes each step up slowly, but hitting the stairs with his steps more harshly than he otherwise would.
You slam the door shut, but despite his calm pace, he’s somehow made it to the top, and slams the door open, throwing you back. You groan as you scramble to stand and dash to the kitchen. What could you do? Get a knife? You would never hurt him, of course, never, but maybe you could scare him off? That was such a ridiculous thought you nearly rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t; you needed vision. And just as you have that thought.
The lights trip.
The winds beat against the window, but nowhere near as fast as your beating heart. You try to calm down as you duck into the cupboards under the sink, hoping you could hear him coming. His footsteps had stopped, but you knew that by no means meant he had; he could be deadly silent, you know this. You strain to hear for the faintest sound of him, but you can barely hear the storm outside over your heavy breathing and blood thumping through your ears. You cup your hand over your mouth, and as much as you want to rock yourself back and forth as you hug your knees, you don’t dare risk any movement, already stressed out of your mind as your body works as always; every blood cell rushing through your veins is way too loud; he’ll hear it, he’ll hear you.
The storm rages, but the house remains dead, not even the regular creak of the pipes, it’s like your home is just as terrified of him and is hiding, making you feel exposed despite your claustrophobic situation.
How long can you wait here? It’s not safe, but neither is leaving. Maybe you can lock yourself in the basement instead, but you don’t know where the key is. Does the basement even lock from inside? There were no locks on any other door in the house considering it was just the two of you.
Either way, you’re fucked. You are so fucked. Beyond fucked.
You count to a hundred, but even time doesn’t calm your nerves, doesn’t do anything to stop your body from acting as if you’re in danger. And why should she?—you are.
One hundred, and you open the cupboard door quickly because you know it creaks. You can’t even consider your luck it stays quiet at the sight you’re met with: The Winter Soldier, crouched in front of your hiding place, dead gaze locked on you. It’s dark, and in any other circumstance, it would be too dark to make out such detail, but you see his face very clearly.
You briefly consider just closing the door again—maybe he’ll stay there—but you don’t have time to consider a next course of action when you’re suddenly roughly grasped by the elbow and yanked out of the cabinet. You shriek as your thrown onto the ground. Once again, you inelegantly manage to get yourself back to your feet, and you run again. He’s fucking with you at this point, because he could effortlessly have crushed you under his shoe right then and there. You don’t even think you’ll die directly by his hands; he’ll cause you a heart attack and that’s how he’ll kill you.
You know the Winter Soldier is the deadliest human force there is, but his ability to appear seemingly out of thin air when you have the hint of a hopeful thought to taunt you once again is borderline magic, it has to be. Your subconscious mind—let alone your conscious mind—can’t even get the thought of saving yourself going, stopped a few words, a few letters in, when you spin around to face him.
Lightning strikes and, right out of a horror film, illuminates him at the end of the corridor.
You stumble backwards into the basement and fumble around for a latch or something? You don’t even know this place well enough to know the basic things like how it locks, and if it does lock from the inside. Unfortunately, you don’t have the time to figure that out as once again the door is blown open and sends you tumbling down the stairs that feel like they’ll never end as you roll and bounce violently. You’re at least lucky the force didn’t send you literally flying into the opposite wall and break your spine, but you’re certain you’ve at least egregiously bruised a rib at the end of your fall—you refuse to believe it’s broken—dropping onto the bag of chips.
“Bucky,” you try, as you grasp at your ribs and watch him as he slowly and rhythmically descends the stairs, “Bucky, please.”
He’s here, at the bottom of the steps, looking down on you with a face so still you half expect it to remain that way forever, but it doesn’t; his expression adjusts ever so slightly; the corner of his lip barely, barely, twitches up, but you see it, he does it.
This isn’t The Winter Soldier, this is Bucky. This your husband.
He kicks you in the ribs, and if they weren’t broken before, they definitely are now, and there’s no way you can deny it. You want to pass out, you wish so badly to be knocked unconscious, have that heart attack you were anticipating, even die, just anything to end this sight: the sight of you husband consciously harming you.
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