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#But I did it in like 2 hours so it looks horrid
blisss777 · 2 days
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PART 2
Anakin skywalker x fem best friend reader
Warnings:mostly fluff I think?, mentions of pregnancy as well.
As Anakin leaves once again, leaving y/n in bed to rest, it gives her time to think. Of the years of physical and mental abuse she's gone through, shaking her head to shake the horrid memories away. She decides to instead think about her best friend.
Anakin skywalker, her ani, her saviour. Her first love, though she knows the feelings are unrequited. The thought stings, she thought she'd have been over him by now. But he hasn't left her head, even after leaving her long ago. She's shaken from her thought's by Anakin himself.
"we're leaving." He words stun her for a moment before she utters. "What, what do you mean we're leaving?" The confusion is evident in her voice, sitting up straighter in the bed. Her eyebrows furrowed as he walks over to her, picking her up swiftly. The quick action has her gasping in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck, afraid he'd drop her.
"Your things have already been packed and taken to the ship, you're no longer a slave." No words a spoken after that, the silence deafening. The revaluation has her dissociate, the world and everything else around her fading away. It has anakin worried, fearing that something is wrong.
He looks down at her as he walks up the ships ramp, finding her face blank, void of any emotion. Setting her down on the bed in a room on the ship for the pilots to sometimes rest, he kneels in front of her. Trying to get her to look at him. "Y/n." Whispering out he holds both of her hands in his.
Reaching one up to hold the side of her face, which seems to snap her out of whatever has taken hold of her. "I'm free." Her hushed voice is full of euphoria, tears immediately fills her eyes, as she takes a shaky breath. She is shocked beyond belief. "But how, I thought watto he-" Anakin's stern voice cuts her off immediately. "No, he doesn't own you anymore."
"But how, how did you free me?" She asked anakin, who's face is lacking emotion. "You don't need to worry about that n/n, I took care of it." He smiles sweetly at her, caressing her cheek adoringly. His words has her heart sinking, but she doesn't know why?, she should be happy right. Her best friend kept his promise to her.
"You just rest alright, I'll help padme fly the ship back to Coruscant. Your new home." He places a gentle kiss on her forehead as he stands from his kneeling position, y/n nodded with a slight smile. Knowing that he's right, maybe a little nap will help.
Now laying down, after anakin has left, her eyes fluttered shut. Unable to stay awake any longer, still a little exhausted. The muffled hum of the ship lulls her to sleep, the ship gliding through space with ease. After what felt like hours to her, she feels her body being lifted. But is to tired to see who is carrying her.
Sleep once again claims her, waking up a little groggy. Finding herself in a sleek and clean room, the desk besides the bed has a little lamp on it. Looking to her left she finds a huge round window, giving her a beautiful view of the liveliness of Coruscant. Speeders zooming past in traffic, and the lights of the huge city twinkles.
She's never seen something so magical, she stands and trots over to the window to gaze out of it. Awe is the only way to describe the look on her face, being a slave means you never get to travel, being held down in one place. The only place She's ever known her whole life. Not anymore.
The sound of a door sliding open snaps her out of her enraptured trance, there stands anakin with a smile on his face. Causing her to smile as well, as she moves towards him, her arms wrapping around him as his snakes around her waist. They embrace for a while before moving back to stare into each other's eyes.
Anakin finds himself taking in her facial feature's, committing them to memory. Hoping to burn it into his brain so he can never forget it. "Are you feeling better, do you want something to eat, drink?" His words cause her stomach to rumble embarrassingly, Anakin smiled at that and leads her with a hand on her lower back to the kitchen to the side.
Walking through an oval arch and into the huge kitchen, already equipped with pots and other kitchen appliances. There is plants stationed in corners of the kitchen to give it a pop of colour. And a kitchen counter in the middle. "Wow, this kitchen is so huge." She gasp out as she takes it all in, she can't wait to see what the bathrooms like.
"How did you afford this ani?" She's curious on how much this place costs, it must be more than what she was bought for. "I have my ways." He boasts with a smirk, making y/n look at him with narrowed eyes. "That's all that jedi talk isn't it." He laughs at her words and pulls out a chair for her at the counter to sit. He starts to pull out ingredients to make something for her to eat.
"Hey, when you're known as the chosen one what do you expect." He Looks at her over his shoulder with a huge smile, and pulls out a knife, starting on cutting the onions and garlic. She looks at the ingredients and sees pasta and some sort of mince, it's probably expensive she thinks.
"How's spaghetti sound?" He asks after seeing her eye the ingredients curiously, her eyes snap up to his. "Sounds good." She smiles sweetly at him, her stomach once again voicing it's opinions. Making her clutch her stomach to make it shut up, which proves useless as it once again rumbles.
Anakin smiled fondly at her cute actions before turning and chucking in the onions and garlic in a frying pan, stirring it a little before pulling out a huge pot and pouring in water. Turning the heat up so it can start boiling.
"Who taught you to cook?" He hears her voice as he continues to mix the onions and garlic, then adding the mince and mixing. Before then putting the pasta into the boiling pot of water, sprinkling a little salt in there as well. "My Master Obi-wan, he said it's essential to know how to cook a decent meal."
"Huh, will I ever get to meet this master obi-wan?" She questioned as he stirred the pot of pasta, adding some seasoning to the mince. He then turns the heat down low before opening a cupboard and pulling out the sauce. "I think it's best you don't, I haven't exactly told him yet.
He drains the pasta and adds it to the frying pan with the mince, opening the sauce and pouring it in as well before mixing it all together. "What, why?" He plates the food and brings it over to her, placing it down in front of her. "I don't want the council to know you're here, they'd ask too many questions." He gets his own plate of food as well and sits down at the counter with her.
He digs into his food and gestures with his fork for her to eat, she twirled her fork before bringing it up to her lips and taking a bite. The flavours bursting on her tongue. "Mhmmm." She hums at the deliciousness of the spaghetti making anakin look down with a smile at her approval of his cooking.
After swallowing she decides to clarify what he means by questions. "You mean about the baby, and his father?" She eyes him as he chews his food before swallowing, putting his fork down he nods. "Yes, if they ever found out who the father is, it's possible they'd take away the baby." As he says that her face falls, dread filled her at the thought of them taking away her baby. "They wouldn't, right?"
The waver in her voice makes him reach over to grab a hand in his, hoping to comfort her. "No they won't, because I won't let them." His words make her relax slightly, nodding at him. "I know you won't." He lifts her hand in his and places a kiss on it. "Eat, you and the baby need it." She listens and picks up her fork again, shovelling food into her mouth.
Anakin smiles at the site, content on just watching her joyfully eat. Glad she's here with him, he thinks back on what he's done to get her here. And he doesn't regret it one bit, he'd do anything, and I mean anything to keep her well and alive by his side.
Notes:well, I've finally finished part 2, there's definitely gonna be part 3 though. I might be a little busy but I'll try to get it done soon hopefully🤗
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nomaishuttle · 1 year
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ok my bedtime now gn bes fucking tinnitus kms anyways gn beautoful soldiers i love you all. keep putting mens tits on my dash my final messageee eaaa why is it dsoing this
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How You Turn My World; Chapter 3
As the reality of your situation sets in, you try your best to survive in the Underground... and find a way out. Little do you know though, someone else is trying to find you.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, getting more into the meat and bones of this fic
Content Warnings; Swearing
Word Count; 3.2 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Do not put my work into AI - I will push you into the Bog of Eternal Stench
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Your night for the most part was uneventful. The horrid screaming had thankfully went in the opposite direction, away from your tree-top abode. Although throughout the night, little crowds of glowing eyes had amassed at the bottom of the tree, but they made no attempts to reach you. Even though they couldn’t reach you, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved, since all you could see was their eyeshine, and hear them chittering to each other.
Great, they’re probably pointing and laughing at the new fool in town. ‘Oh, look, Jim, a new plaything! Don’t they look stupid hanging in a tree like that? Fufufu.’ But you kept quiet, and just watched them, as much as they did you, making sure they didn’t try any funny business.
They didn’t stay for long though, either leaving due to their curiosity being quenched, or from how boring you were trying to be; silent, and watching, not moving. If worse came to worse, you would have started chucking rowan berries at them; if fae don’t like the tree, they probably wouldn’t like the berries either.
Eventually, the dark night dissolved into the dim glow of dawn, and once you could actually make out your surroundings and it wasn’t just one large mass of darkness, you started making your way down the tree. You were a bit proud of yourself, seeing that you had 1) survived the night, and 2) not fallen out of the tr—
Snap! … you celebrated too soon, since the branch you were using as a foothold gave way, and you tumbled your way to the ground. At least the fall wasn’t too high up, but it still stung like a bitch, and you’d definitely have a bruise; both to your body and your ego.
At least there was no one around to see you eat dirt.
Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, and smacked your cheeks; fighting off sleepiness. Focus; you need to get home. Read the damn book Mr. Sparkles gave you… damn prick is probably gonna call in a favour later…
With a still sore butt, you found a mossy rock that looked somewhat comfortable and sat down, opening up your ‘How Not to Die in Fairyland; For Dummies!’ book (not really the name of it, but it was damn close).
“Chapter nine; how to leave the Underground,” you muttered, flipping to the page. Weird, it’s only one page? 
“While leaving the Underground is possible, it is a task that not many have accomplished. 
Of the possible ways include;
Finding a portal; typically an enchanted faerie ring, or royal portal.
Finding a fae and tricking them into owing you a favour
One should leave the Underground before their thirteenth day. Should you stay beyond thirteen days you will not be able to leave the Underground, and will be a permanent resident.”
You shut the book, taking in a deep breath. What has it been, ten hours? It was hard to tell, the blurring of time. But at least you had a rough time of twelve days to find a portal — or have a fae owe you a favour — and get the hell back home. If worse came to worse, you were not above some benign trickery so you could see your idiots again.
Lilia had arrived home safe and sound, slept in his warm bed, and had some of his … delightful home cooking before he was due back at the castle. And while he was eating the somehow overcooked yet still raw eggs, he couldn’t help but wonder how the little Beastie was doing; how you were doing.
He didn’t technically owe you any favours, since he had given you that handy dandy book — if anything, you owed him, since you did say ‘thanks’ and everything — but curiosity is a fickle thing, and you seemed interesting. Humans typically reacted more when they ended up here, and made no proper moves to ensure that they made it back. But you, the little Beastie? Lilia saw a fire in your eyes, of both ire and determination. You wouldn’t give up easily, and while it was entertaining, he also knew that trouble could, and most likely would, follow wherever you go.
Last time a human like you ended up in the Underground… it didn’t end well (said human nearly burnt the Queen’s labyrinth down to the ground). Hopefully though, you didn’t prove to be as foolish, or as obsessed with fire as the last human. Who knows, maybe you would even escape! If you didn’t though, the court could use a new fool, and you seemed amusing enough to please their majesties whilst not incenting their ire.
“Hmm, wonder if their majesties have felt the intrusion,” Lilia hummed to himself, cleaning up his dishes. He could easily just magic it away, but the trip to the mortal realm had taken a lot out of him, so he was stuck doing some good old fashioned manual labour, not that he really minded. Doing the dishes was better than being digested by some mangy, overweight, cat.
A crack of lightning sounded outside, disrupting the otherwise beautiful and peaceful day. “That answers that question!” Lilia sounded too cheerful for what many fae considered to be a bad omen, as lightning rarely meant a good thing when it concerned the royal family.
A raven came to rest on the windowsill, eyes glowing green; a messenger.
Lilia tapped its beak, letting the message play.
“General Vanrouge, I require you to apprehend the trespasser on our land, lest they taint the soil,” the raven recited Queen Maleficia’s message. “Shall you deem it necessary to use drastic measures, so be it… To call this number back, place a coin into the raven’s mouth. To save this call—”
Lilia groaned, but coughed up a bronze coin so that the Queen didn’t send more ravens to his house on his day off. “Our guest shall be dealt with swiftly, I assure you of that.” Lilia ended his call, the raven blinked, coughed out the coin, and flew off in a ruckus of cawing.
He sighed, and cracked his back. “Hopefully our guest can understand… and not hit me with a broom this time.” With a snap of his fingers, Lilia poofed into his trademark green sparkles, and he was a bat again. Instead of being lost in the mortal realm though, he was off to find you, who was most likely lost in the Underground… hopefully you didn’t get eaten or fell into the bog again, since he doubted the Queen would want a dead(?) or putrid smelling guest.
“Beastie, Beastie, Beastie, wherever could you be?”
“Where the hell am I,” you wheezed. You had been walking for a good bit, since hey, the bog really smelled bad, plus you didn’t want to stick around long enough where the creature that was screaming last night decided to come back and make an appetizer out of you. So, you were walking. Where to? You had no idea, all you knew was that you needed to find a portal somehow, of the mushroom variety, or royally produced.
Currently, you were fighting gravity and making your way up a steep hill, but you knew you would be able to see over the dense forest canopy once you reached the top, and maybe, just maybe, you would be able to make sense of your bearings. Would you know where you were once you reached the top? Pfttt, no, but at least you would know what exactly was around. A sulfuric rotten egg-smelling swamp was one thing, but you wouldn’t be all too surprised if you found out there was a man-eating daisy patch or some other nonsense here.
Finally, you made it to the top of the hill, and you caught your breath before looking out towards the horizon. To the north, the sea of trees continued for what seemed forever. East, the trees made their way into a grassy plateau where there seemed to be a village of some sort in the distance; quaint. South, uh, the swamp, definitely not going back that direction, you’ve had enough of that swamp. And west, a castle, surrounded by a maze.
“An enchanted faerie ring or royal portal,” you muttered, weighing your options.
You had about twelve days left to get out of this place. You could spend those twelve days trying to find a so-called ‘faerie ring’ in the forest since those things were mushroom circles, but the chances of finding an enchanted one seemed to be slim to none. On the other hand, castles usually equaled royalty, which would equal portal. Knowing royals though, they were probably batshit insane. Also, if they felt like you were lying or trying to dupe them? Hey, they could apparently turn you into a slug or some other easily squishable being if they wanted to. And you really didn’t want to be turned into a slug… now at the moment at least.
“Forest,” you looked at the forest, “or castle?” You could also go east, but the grassland didn’t exactly scream portal potential or had any rowan trees (or any trees for that matter). “That is the question. Look for weird mushrooms and maybe get eaten by some critter, or potentially piss off some royal and end up as said critter. Hmmm.”
You groaned, and flopped down to the ground; both options weren’t all that appealing, or even guaranteed that you would find a portal. Rolling over to your stomach, you opened up the book again, seeing if it had anything that could help you make up your mind on the options in front of you.
Scanning over the table of contents, there was nothing about where to find a portal in the woods. There was, however, a handy dandy chapter on fae etiquette, including government specifications… 
You looked up towards the castle again, eyeing the maze. And started coughing out into laughter at your situation. “Pfttt, didn’t I wish that the Goblin King would whisk me away from my life,” you wheezed. “And here I am! In the fucking Underground with a labyrinth?!” Your laughing subsided into a tired sigh, and you set your eyes back towards the castle. “The irony is astounding really.”
At least you didn’t have to worry about some baby being turned into a goblin… right? 
No, no, you only wished for yourself to be taken away, no one else. But would that mean you would end up as a goblin? Fae? Or as some weird pet or servant to a fae? Hopefully not… and at least you had the somewhat credible book that Mr. Sparkles gave you. 
Shit, I owe him a favour though… CURSE YOU SARCASM!!!! 
Well, maybe Mr. Sparkles will cut you some slack, since ya know, you did save him from Grim… but you also did hit him with a broom… and insulted him… I am so fucked, aren’t I?
You eventually got to the entrance of the maze (the labyrinth?), and sat down on a bench outside of it, huffing and puffing. “Does everything want to–” you stopped that sentence, knowing your luck, if you said it out loud, it was bound to happen. “Never mind that…”
“Never mind what?” A voice said to your right.
You shot up and whipped your head around, coming face to face with a door(?) with a face. “I-”
“You never mind!” A second voice said, and on your left was another door, sending its counterpart a dirty look. “You know better than to meddle in such affairs!”
The right door, which was a weathered red, rolled its eyes at its neighbour. “Bah! Curiosity killed the cat-”
“But satisfaction brought it back. I know!” The left door, a brilliant blue, huffed. “Ignore them, they do this to everyone.” They sneered (if doors could sneer) to their neighbour. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trick people?”
Did I just get in between these two during something?
The red door got offended, turning even redder by some means. “Like you should be one to talk! ‘Oh my dear traveller, one of us two doors is a liar and does nothing but lie! Do not let my neighbour fool you!’ It’s the same every single time with you!”
It’s giving bitter divorced couple who for some reason still live with each other—
“I would do no such thing!”
“LIAR!”
“NO YOU ARE THE LIAR!”
You groaned, their bickering was starting to give you an all too familiar migraine. “Will both of you shut up?!”
Both of the doors tch-ed at your remark but stopped their nonsensical arguing, and you rubbed at your temple, easing away the building tension. But they turned their attention to you, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something else… doors couldn’t be fae… right? The book didn’t say anything about talking doors… could they be portals? It couldn’t be that easy, nothing was ever that easy.
“Did anyone ever teach you any manners, mortal?” The red door huffed, turning its nose up at you. 
The blue door looked at you with a similar expression, “Yes yes, awfully rude you know! Lucky it's just us though, and not the mistress. Oh ho ho! She would turn you into a newt for that!”
I wasn’t too wrong about them turning me into a slug I guess… would a newt be an upgrade in this case? Since they have bones— 
“And you’re a door,” you deadpanned, “you both haven’t been polite either, ya know?” You had better things to do than kissass to two sentient doors, so no, you weren’t going to be polite. “So the sooner you tell me which way to go, the sooner I’m out of your… splinters?”
The doors grumbled but didn’t raise any objections.
“As you may have overheard, one of us is a liar,” they both said at once. “One of us will lead into the labyrinth, whereas the other will lead you back to where you started your journey.” They both chuckled, looking at you with amusement. “It is up to you to decide which is which.”
You looked between the two doors, weighing your options. “And what if I just walk into the labyrinth? What happens then?”
The blue door hummed, “Well, it would eat you!” … why did it sound all too cheerful about that?!
“So I don’t really have any other option then, do I?”
“Nope!~” They both gave you cheerful smiles, and you were half tempted to go off into the woods and find that magic portal by your lonesome. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with a pair of divorced doors, and a human-eating labyrinth that belonged to some mistress that would turn you into a newt if she felt like you were being snippy with her.
You sighed. Of both the doors, the blue one seemed more sympathetic, whereas the red door was more harsh… “Okay, red, open sesame!”
The red door looked shocked that you picked it over its counterpart, but it opened nonetheless. The blue door grumbled that you had chosen its neighbour over it, but stayed quiet.
When the door opened, all you could see was black. 
“Do you actually lead anywhere?” You threw a rock in, but no sound came out. 
The red door was silent though; apparently, when it was open, it couldn’t talk. And while you didn’t miss the bickering, you really wanted answers, and the blue door wasn’t saying anything either. 
Sighing, you walked forward, hoping that you had chosen the right door. Once both of your feet were over the threshold, light started to filter in. Did I choose right?! But before you got too ahead of yourself, you felt the ground give way under you, and you were falling; falling towards an all too familiar sulfuric-smelling bog. 
“SHI-”
You were back in the bog of eternal stench, and spitting the rotten egg-tasting water out of your mouth again. And this time, Mr. Sparkles wasn’t here to make you magically smell better either. Nope, you were stuck smelling horrible until you could find a change of clothes.
Crawling out of the water, you grumbled and hissed curses towards that red door. Of course, you would end up here again! Why not! Laugh it up, Underground! Laugh it up!
“I hate it here,” you seethed, wringing out as much water as you could from your clothes. 
Shit, the book! But the book was still dry… Fuck you, book. Fuck. You. Of course, the book would stay free of wet and stench, whereas you were now shivering, since the water was frigid, plus you were angry and embarrassed that you had been deceived.
It was no use though just sticking around here lamenting and fuming. So you hoisted yourself up and marched back to the labyrinth; and even though the trip was a good three hours, your anger and pettiness drove you forward.
“YOU-” you hissed, pointing a finger at the red door.
The red door looked at you, looked to its blue neighbour, and then back at you before it started laughing. “I see someone took a little dip-”
You got up in its face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You turned around and marched up to the blue door. “Open up,” you cracked your knuckles, not breaking eye contact. And either your intimidation worked, or your smell was so offensive that the door just wanted you gone; weaponizing the stench works wonders against prissy doors.
“Th-” You remembered your first blunder; do not thank the fae. “You are too kind.” And you stepped through the blue door, which was as dark as the red one, but once the door closed, you didn’t find yourself back in the damned bog. You were now in the labyrinth, and perhaps a step closer to finding a way home.
Lilia found himself in the bog, looking around for the Beastie (you). But they were nowhere to be found, save for a wet spot on the grass and some torn-up moss.
“Ah,” he suppressed a laugh, “they fell in again, I see. Poor Beastie.” At least they’ll be easier to find.
He summoned a glass orb, a looking glass of sorts, and looked inside of it. “Show me the human,” he whispered, sprinkling it with some green magic. “And show me their location.”
The glass orb multiplied into three. The first orb showed a close-up of your face, an annoyed yet determined look on your face. The second orb showed that you were surrounded by hedges. And the third and final orb showed that the hedges were actually the Queen of the Underground’s personal labyrinth.
“… at least they can’t really run off anywhere.” But this wasn’t a great turn of events. Many people, both human and fae alike, had tried their best to navigate the labyrinth. But it was a fickle thing; you had thirteen hours to reach the castle, and if you didn’t within those thirteen hours? You would be stuck within it, as one of the beings that tried to stop trespassers from reaching the castle.
Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose, “Beastie, what have you gotten yourself into?” And he turned into a bat, flying off to try and find you. While the Queen did want you apprehended, Lilia would rather it be with his own hands, and not be held liable for any further actions or decisions you made.
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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @cheezy-moon, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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Author's Note; After a little break from writing this fic, I'm back! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was only for the pay-phone/raven and the divorced bickering doors!
If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!
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romanticintheory · 29 days
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Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.
AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(
also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.
johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader
warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)
-
-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.
-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.
-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.
-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).
-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.
-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.
-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.
-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"
-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.
-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.
-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.
-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"
-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"
-"come live with me."
-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.
-"what?"
-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?
-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).
-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.
-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.
-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)
-"you hurt me!"
-"oh, please."
-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.
-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.
-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.
-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.
-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.
-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.
-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).
-"you're injured. you came home late."
-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.
-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.
-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"
-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.
-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.
-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.
-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.
-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.
-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.
-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.
-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"
-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"
-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.
-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.
-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"
-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?
-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.
-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.
-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.
-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).
-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."
-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.
-"it isn't?"
-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"
-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.
-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.
-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.
-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.
-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.
-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.
-"no, just of you."
-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.
-"oh."
-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.
-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.
-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.
-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.
-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.
-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"
-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"
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auspicioustidings · 3 months
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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1
Winsome Wee Thing
Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage
Parts: 1 2 3
You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately. 
For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.
“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”
“That’ll do.”
There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little. 
“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”
“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”
“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”
“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”
Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.
Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition. 
If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door. 
He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey. 
If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him. 
“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”
For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.
“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”
“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”
Ridiculous man.
“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”
“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”
His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.
The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).
By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.
“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.
You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number. 
“Open the door.”
Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin. 
John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl. 
“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. 
“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”
Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates. 
“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”
The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.
“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time. 
“Wanted?”
He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home. 
“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”
Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?
“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”
Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that. 
“I really like you too.”
Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.
Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).
You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter. 
He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.
A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.
You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another. 
At least until Las Almas.
You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings. 
It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.
You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.
It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you. 
You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful. 
Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you. 
He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.
You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.
Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you. 
You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time. 
Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking. 
You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey. 
A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.
Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.
Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.
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slutforsnow · 4 months
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Skin Don't Matter To Me
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Quick a/n before the fic gets started; I am SO SO SORRY to those who were upset/uncomfortable/angry that I made the original billy x black!reader a former slave!reader. I didn't think. I shouldn't have been up at 1am writing. It was horrid and a terrible decision on my end. Forgive me or not, is entirely up to you. Ty to the anons who called me out for it and made me realize it was wrong to do that, biracial or not. I hope you can forgive me 🫂
Tw/CW: insecurities, anxiety, racism is brought up (not comments, just behavior).
Summary: Reader gets insecure about her relationship with Billy after seeing some girls flirt with him.
It was a chill Saturday evening in the saloon as patrons drank, played poker, and chatted absent-mindly. It was an easy night, for sure, aside from a few drunken snide comments made towards reader, but she shrugged them off. After all, she wasn't getting paid to fight the customers.
As she hummed and wiped down the bar, which was currently empty, she stopped midway to wipe some sweat off her face—reader loves her afro, and has no problems pulling it back so she didn't sweat to death while she worked, but some nights it was just too hot and having so many people out and about the saloon was making it harder to deal with.
Her dark skin shone in sweat as she worked but didn't complain. She had to make a livin' somehow, and she wasn't gonna do that by moanin' and groanin'.
As she resumed her work, she flashed a smile towards her boyfriend as he played poker. He was in his favorite seat, watching her work as he placed his bets and ignored the other girls hitting on him and trying to get his attention. He was technically working as well—he and his boys were security for the saloon because some of the customers were still quite horrid to the folks of color who worked, especially the women. They'd try to threaten y/n but were often silenced or kicked out by Billy and his men.
Y/n and Billy had been dating for 2 years, despite the ups and downs of him being a cowboy and the racism she'd face for being a black woman.
As she worked, still humming, she caught sight of some white girls being all touchy and whispering things in his ear. She bit her tongue as to not cause a scene and focused on continuing to grab glasses and wipe down tables.
'He'd never leave me. He's said that,' She thought to herself as a reminder that Billy would never leave her for some white girl. She was his, and he was hers. Yet, despite the constant love and affection he would give her, she still got that nagging fear that he would leave her.
A few hours later, Y/n's shift had ended and the couple were headed back home to the ranch that they bought with their savings over the course of their relationship. Y/n was silent the whole way home, which made Billy worry that he did something wrong.
"Darlin' did I do somethin' wrong?" He asked, setting his hat on a hook by the door as he shut the door behind him.
A lump formed in her throat and she sighed, knowing he'd keep asking if she said nothing.
"It wasn't you, Billy it... it's just my fears," She answered, trying to dismiss her fears.
"Well, what's wrong? It won't go away unless you talk to me."
Damn his smooth and relaxing tone- she didn't want to talk about it, afraid it would turn into an argument about his loyalties but he was so understanding that she knew she she couldn't hide it from him.
"Those... those damn whores that keep touchin' on you like you're not taken," She told him, sighing. "I know it's probably stupid or somethin-"
"Oh thank the Lord, I was hoping you'd bring this up," He breathed out, letting out a relaxed laugh and earning a perplexed look from y/n.
"...What?"
"I've been wanting to tell you about that. I never wanted to stress you out, but I hate, and I mean absolutely fuckin' hate when they do that. It gets so annoyin', I tell them I'm taken and to back off, but do they listen? No." As Billy continued to ramble about how he hated the other women touching and talking to him like he wasn't a taken man, she smiled.
He was so vocal about how much he hated it when they touched and flirted with him that it eased her worried soul and she hugged him tightly.
Fucking hell, she loves this man so much.
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breadbrioche · 10 months
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apologies
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so mun x reader
➳ summary: after telling mun to take better care of himself, he ends up taking care of you instead
➳ warnings: description of treating wounds, mention of guns/gunshot wounds, self deprecating thoughts, season 2 episode 3-4 spoilers
➳ word count: 1.5k
➳a/n: my offering to the tuc tumblr fandom haha fyi the reader is also a counter but was not with mun during the scenes mentioned
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As you hunch over your desk, trying to get as close as you can to your mirror, you become aware of how pathetic your situation is. Blood soaked cotton balls litter the surface of your desk from your attempt to clean the injuries inflicted on you just hours ago, though you’re doing a pretty horrid job at it because every time an alcohol swab just even brushes against the open wound, you flinch away from your own hand and hiss at the pain.
You sigh regretfully, thinking about how you could’ve avoided all this, been fully healed and pain free hours ago, if you just didn’t cause such a scene earlier.
You bursted into the base, shoes slapping against the floor loudly as you made a beeline towards the table where all the counters were waiting to be healed by Ms Chu. Stopping right in front of Mun, who was looking worried at your apparent injuries, your scowl deepened as your gaze landed on his shoulder and the perfectly circular openings in it.
Frustrated and thinking of no other way to express this, you slapped your palm against the offending shoulder. Mun jerked back with a yelp and looked at you in disbelief.
“You’re an idiot, did you know that?” You began, not beating around the bush.
“Let me expla-“
“Explain what? That you let yourself get shot?” You cut him off quickly. “Us counters may be stronger than average humans but at the end of the day we’re still humans! And humans aren’t bulletproof like how you apparently like to think!”
Words were spilling out of your mouth without a second thought, your voice getting louder with every angry confession.
“Do you think of yourself as someone who can just die whenever they want? Evil spirits aside, did you even think about how your death would impact everyone!”
At this point, you couldn’t remember how the rest of the confrontation went down apart from that when you finally finished your rant he looked at you with an expression incomprehensible to you at the time - maybe he was shocked or mad or sad, either way you didn’t stick around long enough to find out as you finally gained back your sanity and dashed to hide in your room.
Maybe you’re the idiot, and not Mun.
He didn’t get shot for no good reason; he saved the chairman’s life! And you had a go at him for doing what was right. So on top of being a pathetic coward, you were also an idiot who blamed innocent people. What an amazing turn of events.
Before you could wallow in your pity for any longer, knocks on your door pull you out of your thoughts and make you turn towards it. You come eye to eye with So Mun, who’d left himself inside your room before you could even get up to open the door.
“Hey.” He begins awkwardly, probably trying to gauge your reactions to see if you were still angry at him. “You missed dinner.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise” you say dumbly.
“I just wanted to let you know that I saved some food for you, its in the kitchen if you ever feel hungry”
You smile slightly; grateful for Mun’s thoughtfulness, even if after your tirade on him earlier.
“Thanks, Mun-ah. I’ll go eat in a sec once I’m done with all of-“ you gesture to the mess of medical supplies on your table “-this.”
Taking note of it, Mun frowns before approaching you and leaning down to assess your injuries. He immediately picks up an alcohol swab and gently cleans the cuts on your face. Instinctively, you jerk away from the sting but Mun keeps you still with a hand on your cheek.
“You know that Ms Chu can heal these for you.” He says gently, though the close proximity of your faces makes you hear it loud and clear.
“They’re not big… I don’t wanna be a bother for a few cuts here and there” you murmur in defense.
Mun’s hands pull away from your face for a moment to reach for a band-aid on your desk but you grab his wrist to stop him.
“I can treat myself, you don’t have to do it”
He huffs shortly before pulling out of your grasp and shaking his head stubbornly.
“I want to. Please?” He asks with a classic So Mun smile that makes it hard to remember why you were ever mad at him. You reluctantly nod, allowing Mun to put the bandage on your face.
It’s quiet as he repeats the process of cleaning and wrapping the rest of your wounds.
“Uh-“ You speak up suddenly, unable to handle the suffocating silence. He perks up and faces you fully, attentive.
“Sorry about what I said to you earlier…you did what you had to save the chairman and I blew up at you for no real reason but when I heard that you’d gotten shot, I guess I started spiralling and assumed the worse so…” you trail off and lower your head in shame, eyes focused on the scrapes on your knuckles that Mun is currently working on.
His hands clasp yours and intertwines your fingers together with his, then pulls you up to your feet which forces you to maintain eye contact with him. He’s smiling at you calmly, eyes creasing ever so slightly.
“Don’t worry about it. Honestly it’s okay.” he says in a reassuring voice. “I’m sure I worried all of you so I would’ve gotten an earful from someone eventually.”
You laugh slightly at his comment lightening your mood. Being around Mun is addictive - his warm presence pulls you in and his positivity infects you, putting a small smile on your face too.
Though, part of you couldn’t let go of your guilty thoughts and you still feel apprehensive. Mun must have sensed it because he squeezes your interlaced hands tight, stroking your hand with his thumb.
“You had every right to be mad at me. I don’t regret what I did but you're right about the fact that I didn’t think about how my actions would affect everyone else. So I guess that was pretty selfish of me.”
Mun rests his head down on your shoulder, face nuzzling into your neck slightly. His breath tickles your skin as he exhales which makes you squirm slightly.
“Could you forgive me?” He whispers into your ear.
Since he entered your room, all of his sweet actions were slowly piling up, making you feel flustered and heartbeat speed up, but this was the tipping point. You try to push away from Mun, feeling far too overwhelmed, but he effortlessly pulls you back in, his eyes twinkling.
“So~?” He insists you answer, dragging out the last syllable. You roll your eyes, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.
“Fine. I guess I could forgive you” you huff out. “But only because you’re annoying and you won’t stop until I do.”
Mun chuckles and brushes away hair hanging over your face to get a clear view of your reactions.
“You’re so cute.” he points out teasingly. He watches your nose shrivel when you scowl at him.
“And you are a little shit.”
“Hey! Is that any way to speak to your cool and amazing boyfriend who patched you up?” Mun grabs your bandaged hand and shakes it in front of your face to emphasize his point.
“I told you that you didn’t have to do it”
“And I told you that you should’ve seen Ms Chu!”
“It’s too late for that now anyways, she’s probably sleeping. I can just have it done tomorrow” you defend yourself.
“But knowing you, you’ll definitely forget!”
God, Mun could be so stubborn sometimes. You sigh before flopping onto your bed, bouncing slightly as the springs in the mattress resist against you.
“If you’re so bothered, maybe you should just sleep with me tonight so you can remind me in the morning.”
Mun gasps dramatically as if your suggestion was something obscene. You roll your eyes at his act, your point from earlier being proven - he is a little shit.
“You’re welcome to go back to your room then” you point out, gesturing to your door. Mun shoots you an offended look before pulling your blankets open to climb onto your bed quickly.
“I never said no!” He complains as he worms his way to get closer to you.
You shuffle about for a second before getting into a comfortable position, with your face pressed against Mun’s chest, head laying on one of his arms. A silence envelops the two of you again but it’s not the awkward tension from before.
This silence was cozy. Relaxing.
“Thank you, Mun-ah” you whispered, cuddling against him more. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head, silently answering you. Gently he stroked your hair, lulling you to sleep.
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yiminsuu · 1 year
Text
No Control
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Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader
Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.
Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!
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Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.
"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.
Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"
"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons. 
I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.
Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.
The bulge in his pants was massive. 
A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?
Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me? 
No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"
"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.
"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..." 
Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me. 
I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.
"I'm sorry..."
Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.
The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.
My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse. 
If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...
He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!
I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.
We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.
My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.
Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap. 
Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.
I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."
I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while." 
Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"
I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."
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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months
Note
MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "
Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.
So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)
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1) @edenesth
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Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers
Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.
All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.
A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.
He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.
"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"
"You're taking my traffic."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"Of course you don't."
With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.
The war had begun;
It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.
In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."
Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."
"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."
This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.
"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."
"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"
"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."
"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?
"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"
That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.
"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where
She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.
"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.
"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.
Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.
The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.
It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.
That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.
Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.
Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"
Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.
But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;
"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."
"You...made these?"
"Ofcourse."
"W-why?"
"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.
2) @yessa-vie
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Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers
No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.
No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?
"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"
She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.
"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"
That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.
That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.
Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.
Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.
Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.
She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?
So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?
Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.
A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.
"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.
"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.
"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."
She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.
After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.
Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.
"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"
"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?
"Wait, why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"
"Temporary romance?!"
"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"
"Out."
"W-what?"
"I said get out!"
That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.
He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!? 
He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.
He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"
"I can't believe you!"
"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."
"What!? You killed me!?"
"What?"
"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"
"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."
"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-
"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"
"Move in with me."
"Too fast."
"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission,  "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,
"We move into my apartment..."
"What? Mine's great-"
"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"
"Your apartment it is boss."
3) @jaehunnyy
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Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers
Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.
A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.
"Wh-Hello."
"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.
"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.
"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.
"I'm San by the way."
That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.
As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.
"What do you think?"
"It's...very nice."
"Just very nice?"
"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."
Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,
"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.
"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."
"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.
"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."
Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).
Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.
This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.
In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.
Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".
"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.
"What? Why?"
"You really think I didn't know?"
"How did you kno-'
"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."
"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."
"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."
Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.
But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?
Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.
"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.
"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.
"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."
That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.
What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."
"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"
That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.
That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?
Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,
"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"
"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.
"I-"
"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"
"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."
"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"
She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.
He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,
"W-what was that?" She breathed out.
"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."
"You're an idiot Sannie."
"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."
58 notes · View notes
rorichuu · 9 months
Note
raaah! i love your acc layout /gen omg >:O !!
anyway, if it’s not too much to ask for could i request sniper x fem(or gn) reader who’s basically miss paulings assistant? (lol the asisstants-asisstant), like miss pauling is out of work one day and reader takes her place ^^
thanks sm! it can be hc’s, or a fic or like, whatever u want basically cuz i think it’s a pretty complicated req :’) it’s 100% okay if you can’t complete the req/don’t feel comfortable doing so :D
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close eye — sniper x assistant!reader
pairing: sniper x fem!reader
authors note: omg hello! and thank you so much! :D this is such a fun request, i seriously loved writing this! also omg this might be a bit jumbled cuz it's 2:51 AM heheh so please bear with me :) — thank you for the request, friend!
disclaimer: none besides the use of sniper's real name (mick, mundy, etc.)! enjoy!
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when you were introduced by miss pauling right before she had to leave was pretty brief.
she's a busy woman! and you accepted the temporary position happily!
but as you greeted everyone, one man stayed behind; observing.
as curious as you were, you tried to advance, but was sorely interrupted by a chatty scout.
as politely as you could, you tried to pry from the conversation, only to find the tall new zealander to be far gone.
with a defeated huff, you began the day as you previously intended.
honestly, this man is kinda nervous around you in some sorts.
he probably hasn't interacted with a woman outside of miss pauling (merely because of his job, he's obviously greeted women before)
but as much as he had thought of coming up to you, he always kinda of scurried away before you could catch sight of him
a little nervous and very skeptical...
.
.
.
The horrid sun beat down on your skin as you frustratingly looked through the papers clipped on Miss Pauling's board. You were biting your lip in concentration to finally catch what you were looking for. "Aha!" You exclaim in victory. You look up, eyes immediately squinting at your forgetfulness. You held the clipboard with one hand as the other lifted to your forehead to dismiss the sun the best you could, to finally catch sight of Sniper's van. "Can't hide from me..." You whisper to yourself before you march over.
You come to a stop at the van door, lifting your hand to raise a loud knocking sound to catch his attention. You waited patiently before hearing the sound of his boots hitting against the paved wood. You were then greeted by the man's presence. His eyebrows furrowed, lips forming a thin line in observation of your awaiting figure. His red sleeves were rolled up, one hand on the door handle, the other on the door frame. Sniper leaned out, his figure shadowing yours as he waited expectantly. "Yes?" His voice spoke low, informing you he had possibly just woken up from a nap.
You caught yourself staring, cheeks flushed red at his ruffled hair and button-down shirt. (Although, it could very well be the heat...) You clear your throat. "Yes! I know we haven't properly met... but I have a job that requires you," You said, noticing the man sending you a curt nod. "Uhm, right. And, of course, these are all confirmed by Miss Pauling! I'm simply her messenger and advisor for the day." You happily said, lifting the mood as the man took in your words. With a small acknowledged hum, his arm begun to pull back; and the door then closed.
"Sure, mate." Bam.
? ? ?
"What?" You muttered out, stepping back a bit before looking around rapidly. What just happened!? "M-Mr. Mundy! I haven't even explained what the job pertains to!" You tried to reason, but as time slowly started to slip by, he gave you zero sign that he was interested.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. 3 hours after y/n's introductions .
Sniper held his gun close as he observed you quietly. With one eye shut and the other following you.
Sniper was admittedly suspicious.
Of course, Miss Pauling had directly introduced you to everyone... but occasions like this were rare. So he did what no other merc even considered doing.
He observed your every move.
Sniper's lip curled in a small scowl, ripping away from his scope as he noticed you chatting away with Medic over some job, he was sure. Now listen, Sniper wasn't trying to find some dirt on you, he was just cautious. He had to be! That's what part of his job entailed! But your bubbly presence made it hard to suspect you. Desperately, he tried to let it go. But he couldn't help but have his mind think about just you.
Why couldn't he stop thinking about you?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. the present .
"Mister Mundy, if you don't take this job, Miss Pauling will be quite upset with the both of us! God forbid the administrator gets involved... Ugh, Sniper get out here right now!" Of course, this didn't work. Sniper was snickering in his van as he leaned against his seat near the door. His arms were crossed and one leg lay limp on his knee. Mick wore a cocky smile that left you raising your hand and bickering with a shut door, this was quite entertaining.
You huff, hand resting on the top of your head now as you admit defeat. The sun began to drunken your mind as you swayed slightly, leaning against the vehicle, you began to fan yourself with the clipboard. You just accepted the fact you may get in trouble with this.
... Slowly, time passed, it had been a short minute that Sniper began to grow suspicious of the sudden quietness that lurked outside his door. He then heard a small thump and a sliding noise erupt from beyond the wall he sat against. He began to stand, hand now wrapped against the handle as he leaned outside to find the sun taking it's unruly toll on you. "Mind if I come in?"
"Yeah yeah, don't kill yourself out here, mate..."
While his thick accent invited you in, begrudgingly, you nearly ran inside with how fast you wanted to escape the unforgiving heat. He looked over his shoulder to find you faced directly in front of his fan, watching you slump thankfully against the breeze. He scoffed, grabbing two mugs to start a new coffee pot.
"The job," this had caught your attention immediately. "Tell me about it." With a low rumble of his voice, you found yourself watching his back as he grabbed coffee beans and his small machine... which lay in the back of his remote kitchen. Your eyes lit up in clear relief.
"Mhm, right, of course," You cleared your throat, remaining professional the best you could. "There's obvious suspicion up in Teufort... you and the others are needed to scope the enemy in hopes of eliminating any future advances." You snicker. Sniper turns around.
"Was that... a pun?"
"Perhaps."
"Cripes..." Sniper's lips fall into a small smile, turning back to aid to the coffee before walking back over. "Drink." He replies shortly, hand out while he offers the hot coffee. You take it before he leans back and sits right where he was before. You take it graciously after you thank him.
The van keeps quiet for a while, a comfortable silence as you made some notes and read the rest of Miss Pauling's clipboard. "You done then?" Your ears twitch at the sudden sound, you take a second to respond.
"Pardon?" You turn, facing him as your eyes follow up to his. He's looking down at his mug before maintaining eye-contact with you.
"After this. You're gone?" This time his question is much more clear. You can tell Sniper doesn't like eye contact, keeping his space and eyes wandering. You notice this. You let out a small huff.
"Ah, I'll be outta your hair before you know it." You joke, although your shoulders slump in a saddened way. Sniper looks at you in the corner of his eye before taking another slug of his coffee.
"Bummer..."
"Yes, I know. You'd best be celebrating soon- ... uh, hm?" Your head lifts from your papers to see the man swirling his mug before looking at you.
"I said bummer." He repeats himself before he's left getting another cup. You can feel your cheeks getting red... and you being. Very confused. Your hand twitches, almost losing your pen before regaining your composure. "They need'ja out there, best get goin', mate." He announced before turning around and leaning on his counter, looking at you over his mug. You flush once more.
"Right, I appreciate your time and patience, Sniper," you send a quick smile before brushing down your skirt and handing your mug over. "Thank you for the hospitality." You said quietly, nervous around the Australian. He takes it and nods. “See ya’ around miss.”
Taking that as your sign to leave, the click of your heels are soon echoed and left with a small click of his trailer door. Sniper looks at the handle for a while, anxious to see you again.
You were lovely company.
.
.
.
rorichuu!
179 notes · View notes
wjhik · 11 months
Text
Like Before (Jude Bellingham) *Smut*
A/N: first smut
Y/N's POV:
I have some mixed emotions about tonight. Jude is taking me out for the first time since the birth of our baby, or I'm letting Jude take me out for the first time since I've given birth should I say. It's been 2 months since I've given birth to our beautiful baby boy. Jude has been trying to convince me to go out for the past two weeks. Postpartum depression has hit me like a truck. He's planned a fun night of clubbing and dancing and getting wasted with our friends. I haven't seen them since I gave birth. He's made me pump enough milk to feed the baby for the next two days, so I'm able to drink, even though I don't really want to. (anti fetal alcohol syndrome in tis house)
"Jude, do I really have to come? You go ahead. I'll stay home with the baby." I tell him, walking fresh out of the shower. "Jobe and mum are already on the way to watch him. Jobe told me he gave up a 'hot date' to watch the baby tonight. He would kill me if I canceled. Love, it'll be okay. You need to get out of the house." He tells me, looking up from his phone. He looks so good right now. His back is propped up on the headboard with his legs stretched out, crossed over each other. He finished his shower a little while before mine. He's only wearing his boxers and I can't help but look down. "Eyes are up here, love." He says, smirking at me. "Sorry." I say, embarrassed. I turn away from him, shielding my eyes. "Baby." He extends the end of his words. He gets up and puts a hand on my shoulder and turns me around. "You've seen everything." He says, bending his knees to get to eye level with me. My hormones have been all over the place, but I brush him off and start getting ready. Jude leaves the room to occupy the baby.
I sit down at my vanity and start getting ready. I start with my skincare. First, I apply my serums, moisturizer, then primer. I then put my foundation and blend it out. I put on some concealer to cover up my very sleep deprived eyes. I contour my face. My favorite part, blush. I apply a liquid blush to the high points of my cheeks. Now for powder. I use a translucent powder underneath my eyes and carve out my contour. Then I apply powder contour and powder blush, tracing over the places I put the liquid version of the product. I let it sit for a little, then I spray setting spray. I go in with my very sparkly highlighter. Now I do my eyes. I put on my mascara and falsies. I do a dark black smokey liner. That's what made me feel the sexiest before. Now I do my lips. I line them with a dark crimson liner, and then top it off with red lipstick. I look in the mirror and sadden. I used to feel like the prettiest girl in the world when I did this, now I feel more than horrid.
I decide to leave my hair natural, mainly because I don't think I physically have the energy to do my hair after doing my makeup for an hour and a half. I simply put my products in it and diffuse it, which in itself is a task, due to its length. I put on all of my jewelry and one of Jude's t-shirts. I know his mum and brother are coming home, so I choose one that's long enough to be decent. I hear the doorbell ring.
I walk outside to meet my mother and brother-in-law. I see Jude hugging them at the door and welcoming them in. "Hello, love!!" Denise says, excitedly. It's been a while since I've seen her. She knows what I was going through, so when she found out I was going out with Jude, she was thrilled. I pull her into a hug. I then move to hug Jobe. We make some small talk before I start running them through how to take care of the baby. I trust them, but I can't help but worry. I show Jobe and Denise where we keep everything, where the milk is, how to work our unnecessarily complicated changing table. As Jobe and Denise were talking and I was listening to their conversation, Jude whispers in my ear, "Why aren't you wearing that dress I got you?" He bought me a beautiful, long, black ysl dress. It has a square neckline and long sleeves. It hugs my figure, which is what I'm scared of. The last time I was seen in something like that was before my pregnancy. I worked hard  for the body I had back then, and I let it go. I deserve to let it go. I did have a baby, but the media has no mercy. "It's a bit much for your family, no?" I tell him. It's quite conservative, but it was the first excuse that came to mind. Jude made it a point to not take me too far out of my comfort zone. "You lot should get going." Jobe points out.
I go into my bedroom and change my dress and shoes. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My belly is sticking out. I'm trying to remind myself that this is normal. I brought life into this world. This is a sign of my baby boy. It's hard to keep yourself confident when all you are is 'Jude Bellingham's Fat Pregnant Wife', according to headlines. "Hey, mama." Jude wraps his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. "You look so beautiful." He rubs his hands over my belly. He knows what I'm thinking about without saying it. I interrupt his sweet nothing in my ears and say, "Are you sure we have to go out tonight?" Jude simply grabs my arms and pulls me out of the room. He picks up my phone and purse on the way out. He pushes me out the door. As he's pushing me through the house I hear a series of praises coming from his mum. These two know how to make a girl feel good.
We finally get to the club. Jude ushers me through the dance floor, up to the vip section, where our friends were. We greet them and I sit down with my girls. "So, how are you and Jude?" "I'm sure your sex is amazing. It's been so long for you two." "I'm sure hes been giving it to you good lately." These girls have been drinking. It's hard being the first to have kids in your friend group. "We haven't had sex yet." I tell them. "What?!" "Why?!" They ask me. "How can you have sex with a guy you feel like you don't deserve? I've put on so much weight since getting pregnant, and he's only gotten fitter." I confess to them. "Babes, are you joking?! If anything, you've only gotten sexier. You had his baby!!" One of them says. "Jude hasn't been able to keep his hands off you since you got pregnant. He's so in love with you. Everything your body has been through is because of him and his child. Do you know how sexy that is?" Another one chimes in. "By the way, you look incredible tonight. And if anything, Jude doesn't deserve YOU." Someone says. I can't help but hide my face in my arms and turn red. I don't deserve these girls. I just pull them all in a bear hug.
"Here ya go, love." Jude places a margarita on the table in front of me. "What's this?" I ask him, looking up. "A drink." He smiles at me and walks away, avoiding me denying it. I can't help but drink. Anyone from our group who sees me with an empty drink, will automatically refill it for me. What is happening?
I'm now very drunk. Jude is barely tipsy. "Dance with me?" Jude asks me. He sticks his hand out for me to take. I take his hand, too drunk to be conscious about how I'll look. Him and I are sensually dancing to the music. He's dancing up behind me with his hands on my waist. My hips are swaying to the beat. I slowly start grinding against him. Jude starts kissing my neck. I can feel the existing heat between my legs get even hotter. I turn around to face Jude. He kisses me. At first, it's a simple drunk, sloppy kiss, but it gradually develops into a sexy makeup session in the middle of a nightclub. "Remember when we used to do this every weekend?" I say between kisses, slurring my very intoxicated words. Jude simply moans into my mouth and continues kissing me. "Let's go home, love." Jude has booked a hotel for us to stay in tonight. He wants me to truly enjoy myself. He grabs my hand and drags me into his very fancy car.
(Smut)
Jude pushes me into our hotel room and pins me against the door. He's kissing me as he slots his knee in between my legs. I'm slowly grinding on him, trying to relive myself. He puts his hands on my ass, and slowly grabs it. He bends his knees and picks me up. He's walking me to our bedroom. "You're so beautiful." He says as he lays me down on the bed. "I love you." I say as he towers over me. He takes off his dress shirt and continues kissing me. His kisses have slowed down. He knows it's been a while. His fingers ghost over the side of my dress, where the zipper is. "Take it off." I say to him. He unzips my dress and slips it off. He looks down at my body. I'm wearing some black lingerie.
"Fuck, you're perfect." He says, kissing me. He's kissing down my body. He kisses the top of my breasts. His hands reach behind me and I arch my back up, allowing him to unclasp my bra. He takes it off my body and lightly sucks on my nipples. "Hey, that's for Y/S/N" I say to him, reminding him how drunk I am. He giggles at my state. "Fuck, Jude." I moan. My breasts are so sensitive. He moves down from my breast to my stomach. He leaves hickeys on me. He's obsessed with 'marking' me.
He moves down from my stomach to my sweet spot. Jude is kneeling over me. He's working his way up my leg, towards it. I see him getting hard. I gasp, and my body tenses, then relaxes, my head resting back on the pillow. "Oh, yes... just like that, Jude." I moan, pushing up against Jude. "I'm going to cum," I cry. "Go on then, baby. Cum on my tongue." He encourages me. He sticks 2 fingers inside me, and pushes them in and out of me. "Oh, fuck. Baby, I'm cumming." I say. Ecstasy washes over me and I buck up into Jude face. "Well, fuck." Jude says, giggling. "Oh, my god." I say, my chest heaving. Him and I are slowly giggling away. He comes up to my face and kisses me passionately.
"I don't know how much longer I can wait, baby. I want to feel you inside me." His face is a few inches away from mine, and staring deeply into my eyes. "Good, baby, I want that too." He says. He lowers his head, and kisses my lips. I wrap my arms around Jude's neck, pressing my body against his. I moan into his mouth. I feel myself pulsing. Jude shifts, getting into a better position over me.
"Please, baby. Please, fuck me. I need you so bad." I plead with him. He takes off the remaining of his clothes. His hard dick springs out of his boxers. I forgot how big he is. I am so terrified. How in fucks name did I take all of him? He's about to stick it in when I stop him. "Wait. Wait. Please go slow." I tell him, putting my hands on his lower stomach. "I'll be gentle, baby." He says as he slowly stretches me out. "Oh my fucking god..." I say, throwing my head back in the pillow. He leans down and kisses me as he pushes in deeper. He very slowly moves deeper and deeper. "Fuck. I forgot how tight you were." Jude says in a groan as he pushes all the way inside me. "Fuckk!!" I yell. He kisses my neck as he stays still. He looks at me for approval. "Move, please." I tell him, getting used to his size, but not fully. I don't think I can even get fully used to him. He starts fucking me just like how he used to. He pulls all the way about me and thrusts all the way back in at a painfully slow pace. "Please fuck me faster." I beg him. "Anything for you, love." He says, fucking me at an ungodly pace. "Baby, I think I'm going to cum." I say to him. It's been a while. I forgot how good he was at this. "Cum on my dick, baby. I just want to make you feel good." He encourages me, moving faster. I pull him in by his face and kiss his lips as I cum around him.
"I love you so much." He says kissing my forehead. We're laying together, watching a movie. I look up at him and kiss him. He's cuddling me and I'm in his shirt, like before. "I genuinely think you are the most beautiful woman on this planet." Jude goes on and on about how beautiful I am and how much he loves me until I fall asleep in his arms. Jude makes me feel so beautiful.
Wattpad: funkyfishfeet
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tiyoin · 1 year
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someone’s jealous ~
1/19/23 - 5:55 pm
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idia didn’t know what you saw in that muscle head.
he was a hater at heart and he hated him, and he made it clear as day.
“this one’s different” you swooned over the phone. he could just picture your fluttering lashes, twirling your hair as your uniform skirt fluttered around you as spun around in room like some kind of princess.
“he’s honest and he’s sweet” he heard a light thump. “please” he huffed, his steady keyboard taps getting more and more aggressive. his sharp, piranha teeth clenching in concentration.
“he would do nothing to hurt me”
“he’s a guy!” idia shouted, tips of his flaming hair turning pink as he glowered at the GAME OVER on his screen. it’s old arcade font only ticked him off further as he pushed away from his computer, the wheels of his gaming chair scratching against his wood floor.
“what is this, schmuk number 6?”
he teased, leaning over and raiding his mini snack cabinet, smiling once he found the chips he was looking for. rolling back over as he popped a chip in his mouth he said “20 bucks you break up at the end of the week”
“idia!” you shrieked, the male snickered as you began berating him, calling him all sorts of names, and that he’s wrong, that this one’s different-
though he never believed you. fate playing your record on rewind as he waited for the count down to finish so he could try the final boss again.
“we’ll at least i’m not a virgin” you teased, static immediately following as he only guessed you were now laying flat on your bed, plushies propping up your phone to keep it from falling.
“i go to an all boys school” he shrugged, wiping his hands of the chip dust “if i weren’t i’d be concerned” he glanced at the chip bag, then to the screen. he pushed the bag aside, not before stealing. a final fistful and shoveling it into his mouth. you paused for a second.
“no you’re right. that means you’d actually pull someone”
“you really think i’d go for a normie” there was a pregnant pause. “well,” idia huffed at the topic change “i’m going on a date with him in an hour so- you’re helping me get ready”
he rolled his eyes, quickly accepting the magi-cam call as he pushed his phone off to the side a bit.
“idia-“
“gaming”
“just take a quick peek” you purred
“busy” he yawned
“idia”
“i will hang up”
“fine” you huffed, shuffling following after you let out a defeated sigh.
he would feel a bit bad if it wasn’t the 6th guy in 2 months. your horrid love life now becoming his source of amusement. of course he felt bad, as every late night call that consisted of you crying your eyes out at ritualistic text reading always ground his gears.
he’s told you to give the dating scene a rest, come game and watch anime with him. shut out the world that is so cruel to you and stay safe and warm with him in the comfort of your dorms.
but you were too bright to be dimmed, you were like a phoenix, born to be free, fated to be shot down, only to come out renewed and stronger than before. yet here he was, trying to cage you and keep you as a prized pigeon.
no matter how hard he tried to shoot you down, you were always too high.
so he watched from below, supporting you whenever you needed (from afar of course, the distance between schools separating him from you) in your ventures. admiring how easily you could charm the eye and ensnare the senses. how you could go up to someone, and with a sway of your hips have them follow you like a lost puppy.
(he shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a bit called out as that’s what happened to him not too long ago)
he cleared his throat, attempting to focus on star rogue as you mindlessly chatted. “so uh, what school does he go to”
“RSA”
almost as fast as his character died, his head snapped towards the phone screen. the once dark phone now lighting up in a bright, neon blue as his hair illuminated his sickly features. “what did you say” he drawled, breathe hitched as you repeated yourself.
great. not only is he some male lead in a romance game with his tall and striking figure, voluminous orange hair and one hell of a grin. but he’s also some stupid RSA snob.
it was game over for him even before it even began.
‘herc’ (ugliest name btw) was some limited SSR character, with his own weapon and artifact set. meanwhile he was that one lame character that appears in every banner that no one wants.
“c’mon idia i’m leaving in an hour! i need help” you whined, breaking him from his self deprecating thoughts as his hair started to simmer, and when it simmered, he simmered, and when he simmered, he got mad.
he threw his phone on his bed, ignoring the small thump as he wondered why he was still even talking to you. the only time you talked to him was when you were bored or had some new boy toy you wanted to tell him about (your pretty little friends were probably annoyed half to death like he was starting to get)
his stomach churned just thinking about you gushing to your girlfriends about ‘hercules’ ( c’mon who hates their child that much??).
about how tall he is
(he’s over 6 foot!)
about how strong he is, his sweat covered muscles shining in the sunlight.
idia unconsciously rubbed his arm
about his luxurious, wavy hair
idia glanced at his dark monitor, messy blue flames out lined his gloomy, skinny face. though his eyes focused on his mouth, the blue lipstick you got him a bit smudged from the chips he ate earlier. he grinned into his mirror, pearly whites muted by the blue lighting.
he bet hunkules had normal teeth, teeth that don’t cause bleeding when you bit into a chip too aggressively, teeth that won’t make children and adults alike gasp in fear, wondering what kinds of things he eats.
“idia can you just tell me what outf-“
“sorry, not feeling well” he didn’t let you finish as he hung up on you, veins popping along his forearms as he stared at the messages of you begging him to answer, new ones appearing of you asking him why he hung up. his phone rang, your contact photo taking up the whole screen.
your happy face shone back at him, you were smiling so hard your eyes crinkled, your mouth was slightly ajar as your normal teeth twinkled.
falling onto his bed, he pushed away the question of how he got there, deciding to just accept the glitch and bury his head into his pillow. ignoring the vibrating of his phone and the loading screen of his monitor.
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for my idia fans 🤭 you know who you are bbg 🫦
i’ll have the jack fic ready soon i promise 😩
i meant for this to be a childhood friend idia x reader, hercules au but i ended going off the rails.. 😋
also kind of gave up at the end whoops
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junkdrawerfics · 1 year
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Swan Sisters (Part 4)
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Bella and Sister!Reader
Summary: You get dragged into dress shopping in Port Angeles with the girls, which turns out to be a good thing considering Bella is a magnet for danger! Jasper is not in this one cause it got too long!
Word Count: 3534
Warnings: some violence (self defense) and allusion to/attempted assault (Port Angeles scene) also possibly horrid writing, I've been up for 24 hours!
---
“How was the beach?”
You meet Bella at the door, fluttering around her hectically as she toes her boots off and shakes stray droplets from her coat. She hits you with a look, the ‘calm down before I walk right back out of here’ look. Smiling apologetically, you back off a few paces, though you can’t stop the habitual leg bouncing.
She obviously had something planned last night, when you talked about La Push. Waiting is not exactly your forte these days. After wasting a couple hours working, you called Alice, who hadn’t seen anything, a common occurrence when the wolves are involved somehow. So wait you did, not that it was easy. The living room is in a completely different arrangement than it was this morning.
“It was fine. It rained a bit, but everyone seemed to have fun. I think I convinced Angella to ask Eric out,” she recounts once she hangs up her coat and starts towards the living room.
“Really? Angella and Eric? Huh.” You never thought of that, but they do seem like a perfect pair. Eric’s not too crazy and Ang- Wait, she’s trying to distract you! Focusing back in you, you prod a little further, “Besides that, did anything happen? Any coincidental Jacob appearances?”
‘Coincidental’ because you know of Jacob’s little crush on your sister. If he heard about Forks kids showing up on the reservation, he’d probably show up out of pure curiosity.
“Yup.”
Hm, the shut out approach. Smart. Unfortunately for her, you are now undying, which means an eternal amount of stubborn snooping.
“How’s he?”
“Fine, Billy’s good too.”
“That’s nice.” You give her just enough time to sit down and reach for the tv remote before plopping down next to her, your next question spilling out, “What did you guys talk about?”
Bella rolls her eyes, “Are we playing twenty questions?”
“Until I figure out what you were planning last night before dad came in,” you reply, just as snarkily, “So?”
“Fine,” she huffs, “I got him to tell me about the legend behind why they don’t like the Cullens. Happy?”
“How’d you do that?” This question is just for fun.
A lot of fun, considering Bella goes positively red, pursing her lips in discomfort.
“I might have…flirted with him,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck.
Oh the poor boy. Being exposed to that so young, he’ll never be the same. And to think, Bella can actually successfully flirt! You can’t stop yourself from snickering, which makes Bella look even more miserable. 
“It’s alright, Bells.” You try to reassure her, but there’s no hiding the amusement in your voice, and she just glares at you. “Sometimes you just have to use your feminine wiles to get your way, you know?”
She groans, head dropping into her hands. Her voice comes out muffled when she growls, “I hate you so much.”
The laugh you let out is truly a cackle, completely evil in intent, “You could never.”
“I am this close.” She holds out her fingers, except they are pressed firmly together, which just makes you laugh harder.
It takes a moment for you to calm down again. It’s a good thing you don’t need air, otherwise you’d be gasping, ribs aching. But now you can laugh as much as you want, as long as you want. A weird perk, but one you enjoy.
“So,” you start again, wiping a nonexistent tear from your eye, “What did you learn?”
Bella shifts, just enough to cast you a sidelong glance. Her eyes, thoughtful, calculating, seem to look straight through you as she considers her words carefully. You wish she would just spit it out, but it’s not too hard to guess what she might be thinking.
“He said that the Cullens are some enemy clan, and that they have some treaty with the Quileutes that keep them off the reservation,” she finally explains, though her tone is clipped.
“An enemy clan, huh?” 
That makes sense. You get the feeling that there’s more to what Jacob said, something about what you are, but you don’t press further. Whether she figures it out or not, you’re not too worried anymore. Alice’s visions always come true, and your stubbornness alone will deter the more gruesome ending.
You look at her face. There’s no fear in her expression as she meets your gaze. So maybe he didn’t say too much. But there’s still something. She has to know something. You catch yourself, humming at the realization that you want her to know something.
Maybe the quicker she figures it out, the quicker that future will come true.
You give her knee a soft squeeze and push yourself back to your feet, “Whelp, I’m glad you had fun, Bells. You should talk to Jacob more often, he’s a smart kid.”
Her brow furrows, confusion flooding her face at your conspiratorial grin. With a quick wink, you dart upstairs, leaving Bella positively bewildered much to your own amusement.
---
Not much changes the days following the conversation. The weather gets a little sunnier, meaning the Cullens don’t go to school and you get a few off days with Jasper. Bella doesn’t mention their absence, much to your surprise.
It’s almost like things are normal for a little bit.
She even invites you to Port Angeles for prom dress shopping, which prompted the question-
“You’re going to prom?!”
And the subsequent answer.
“No.” Said with such disdain, you let it drop immediately.
Even so, that’s how you find yourself here, watching Angela and Jessica try on dresses while Bella stares out the window, lost in thought. It’s a good thing that you know the girls from your time in Forks High, otherwise this would be so awkward.
Maybe that’s why she just invited you, to spare herself the pain of doing it alone.
“I like that one on you, Ang,” you chirp, “Lavender is totally your color.”
“Yah?” She smiles meekly, looking down at herself.
“Totally! Don’t you think Bella?” You give your sister a hard elbow to the ribs, making her jump and glare at you before turning to her friend.
“Definitely, Angela, you look beautiful.” At least she’s trying.
The two more normal girls go back to fussing over their dresses. Watching them gives you a dull sense of nostalgia. It’s been so long since you’ve done something like this with humans. Since you’ve been able to.
“So, (Y/n), are you still dating Jasper Hale?” Jessica suddenly pipes up, eyeing you with poorly hidden jealousy.
Ah, that, you haven’t missed. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bella smothering a smug smile. Karma.
“I am,” you reply shortly.
“Is that weird?” She presses as she stares at herself in the mirror, messing with a pair of white gloves. “Ya know, since you graduated and he’s still in school?”
“No. I skipped a grade, so we’re about the same age.” Not even close, technically, but appearance wise it is. 
“Still-”
Thankfully, or unfortunately, she’s cut off by a sudden knock on the window. A group of men walk by, whooping and catcalling. Angela and Jessica flinch and shuffle away from the glass, faces twisting with discomfort. You frown, a sudden flare of anger flushes through you.
You jump in front of the girls, flipping the bird at the men as you bark a low, “Piss off!”
It doesn’t do much to damper their attitudes, since they’re probably too buzzed to notice the typically unnerving edge you carry as a vampire. Anger simmers low and hot in your gut. What happened to common decency?
“That is uncomfortable,” Jessica mumbles.
“But really cool, of you, (Y/n),” Angela murmurs, voice touched with awe, “Thanks.”
“Oh please, it’s only decent,” you grumble and slump back into your seat, “I can’t believe that.”
You’re tempted to go rip their heads off, but that wouldn’t look too good.
“It’s disgusting,” Bella agrees, looking just as frustrated.
You fall into a tense silence. It’s tense to you at least, but that’s probably because you’re watching the window like a hawk, as if they’ll come back at any moment. For their sake, you hope they don’t. Their death would not be pleasant. No, you’d make sure-
“What do you think of this one, Bella?”
Oh right, dress shopping. Probably not the best time to get swept up in murderous thoughts.
“It looks great.”
You snort. Is it possible to sound less enthusiastic? 
“You’ve said that about, like, the last five dresses,” Jessica says with a grimace-like smile.
Bella shrugs, “I thought they were all pretty great.”
Angela, who’s observant nature rivals even Edward’s, picks up on her reluctance easily, “You’re not really into this, are you?”
“I actually just really wanted to go to this bookstore.”
You perk up a little in interest, eyeing your sister, “A bookstore?”
She noticably avoids your stare as she nods. Curious. Maybe something to do with her talk with Jacob?
“Well let’s go to this bookstore of yours then! We’ll catch you girls at the restaurant?” A charismatic smile and they agree easily. You tug Bella up by her arm, though she quickly jostles out of your grip with a soft glare.
“You don’t have to come,” she grumbles.
“Hmmm, stay here dress shopping for a prom I’m not going to or accompany my twig-like sister around a dangerous town?” You pretend to mull it over, rubbing your chin theatrically, and Bella rolls her eyes. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go with the ladder. For your safety, of course.”
“I can hold my own.”
Swan stubbornness.
“A gust of wind could knock you over, Bells. Or worse, a nice patch of wet concrete.”
No need to remind her of all the times you’ve watched her trip on nothing. The girl was frightfully uncoordinated. Plus, you’d heard word of some strange “animal” attacks nearby. It’s safer if you’re with her.
Though the trip turns out to be mostly uneventful. You walk to a small store, Thunderbird and Whale Bookstore, who’s clerk gives you a weird look as you puruse the indigenous literature. Not completely abnormal, given your appearance. Just abnormal enough to make you wonder, not too abnormal that people ask. But the legends of their people definitely make you more conscious of your human habits. 
Breathe. In. Out. Blink. Shuffle.
Until he focuses on Bella as she comes up to him with a book.
You peer over her shoulder at the cover. Quileute Legends. Seems you right.
She shifts, blocking your sight as she tucks the book to her chest. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you’re back on the street. The restaurant shouldn’t be too far.
“So…Quileute legends?” 
“Yep.”
You huff, “You’re so boring sometimes, Bella.”
She meets you tick for tick, “You’re so annoying sometimes, (N/n).”
Unconsciously, you catch the sound of heavy footsteps down a nearby road.
“That’s my job,” you chirp, slinging an arm over her shoulders, to draw her close, just to be careful.
“I thought you’re job was to teach me about makeup and boys and all that,” she snorts back.
The footsteps get louder.
Pretending to be playful, you pull her hood up, synching it over part of her face, “What do you want to know, hm?”
Bella looks at you, glare equal parts amused and irritated, until she catches the faintest glimmer of unease in your eyes. You smile, but it’s forced, too stiff, unnarturally sharp. She grip the book closer to her chest. As you push her into an alley, she catches sight of the two men walking where you had. 
And they catch sight of the two of you. A glint sparks in their eyes. An all too familiar one. The hunt has begun.
“Keep walking, Bells, please.” You urge, voice tight.
Their gaze burns on the back of your neck, much like it had at the dress store, dripping with hunger. It brings back every memory of walking through Port Angeles alone. The fear, gripping your mace with white fingers, keys held like claws in your other hand. All because men like them think they are entitled to touch touch touch-
Rage simmers up your throat.
Any other day you could show them what that fear is like. How it feels to be hunted. But you’re too aware of Bella tucked under your arm, one hand curling around your wrist so tight, it would break if you weren’t made of marble. She would see. As much as you want her to know, this is not how you want her to figure it out.
So you clamp down on the rage. Dismembering them might not be the best solution anyways.
Though it sounds more appealing as you step out of the alley and watch the last of the drunken men slither out from the shadows. Disgusting snakes. They were waiting for you.
“Hey, where you running to?”
“There they are.”
Bella flinches, and you envision their blood spilled over the pavement, fizzling alongside their beer. Something inside you craves it, longs to see these men wounded in the same way they hurt young women. But you keep it locked down. Not yet. Not unless it’s necessary, you snarl to yourself.
“Stay close to me, Bella,” you murmur, arm like a metal guard around her shaking, frail shoulders. 
The girl merely nods. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, like a china doll.
You will protect her. At all costs.
Head kepts low, you try to force yourself forward, through the men, but they close in like vultures around you.
“Woah, woah, woah, where are you going?” 
“Yah, why don’t you hang out with us?” They chorus in agreement.
Your eyes dart around, looking for any way to escape. There’s maybe ten men, and you feel your throat tighten with each step they take towards you. With each step, Bella’s heartrate spikes, panic flickering over her features. You pull her impossibly closer.
You go rigid when a scorchingly hot, sweaty hand gropes your butt. Snarling, you slap it away, disgust burning a pit in your gut.
“Don’t you dare touch me,” you warn, though your eyes flicker between their identical, sickening smirks, unable to tell who did it. If Jasper were here, they’d all die for it. They still might.
“Oh, she doesn’t like that.”
“Feisty one, eh?”
“What about this one?”
Everything slows down for just a split second.
Another reaching hand, palm covered in sweat and beer, nails rimmed with dirt, skin smudged with oil. Ready to touch. Ready to take whatever it wants. Reaching for your sister.
Fast - too fast - you block his way. Bella gasps almost inaudibly behind you, but you’re too distracted as you catch the man’s wrist. His face goes stark white at your crushing grip, and it’s like the clouds clearing, his eyes setting on you for the first, real time. The fear glinting in their depths gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.
“Keep your disgusting, filthy hands off my sister,” you hiss slowly and give his wrist a deft twist.
The satisfying pop paired with his pained yelp is music to your ears.
Alongside the sound of screeching tires.
Edward.
Bella barely has time to breathe as you shove her towards the Volvo as it skids to a stop, barely catches the imperseptible nod you give Edward as he steps out. Ignoring her sputtering, you push her into the front seat.
“What the h-”
“Just stay put,” you grumble and slide into the backseat.
You don’t watch as Edward approaches the men. You don’t care to see their faces again. If you do, you just might turn around and break the remaining wrists. Maybe that would keep them from laying their hands on any innocents again.
Eyes flickering shut, you let every muscle in your body go still. It helps somehow, like you’re resetting. You focus on the sound of Bella’s breathing, how it slows down, and how her heart eventually returns to a normal rhythm.
It picks up a fraction when Edward slips back in, slamming his door hard enough to make the car shake.
“Hold on tight,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.
Bella turns to look at you, but gasps and clutches at her armrests when Edward whips right out of the lot. The man drives like usual, like he’s trying escape the depths of hell. This time, you don’t give him grief for it though.
“I should go back and rip their heads off,” Edward snarls, fingers going somehow paler around the steering wheel.
“No. Bad idea-”
“Sounds good to me-”
Bella shoots you a glare. With an unapologetic shrug, you turn to watch the trees race by. They might not have hurt the two of you, but there’s no doubt in your mind that they’ve done the same thing to some other poor soul. They deserve to rot.
“You don’t know the vile things they were thinking.”
You resist the urge to slap your forehead. Or him.
“And you do?” Bella’s brow furrows.
Cover it up, cover it up, you idiot.
“Not hard to guess.”
Better than that, Edward.
The glare he sends you through the rearview mirror is remarkably similar to your sister’s. They really will make a lovely match. Good thing they can’t have kids, what with the amount of disapproval they can put together. 
“Good thing you were visiting Port Angeles, huh Edward?” You tease with a lecherous grin pointed right back at him.
“You were just…visiting.” Bella’s voice rings with suspicioun.
Edward grinds his teeth, “Yup. Visiting.”
The word is slowly losing all meaning. 
You settle back into your seat as an awkward silence fills the cabin. If you didn’t know better, you would think Edward was just another inexperienced teenager, new to the whole love thing. Though, he still looks ready to murder those guys, based on his black glare barely focused on the road.
Remembering them brings back a new feeling. Not fear, but a remanent, the faintest lingering of anxiety that makes you grit your teeth. Dread maybe, because you can’t help but wonder - what if it happened a year ago? It’s pointless, you know, but there’s no banishing the images that come to mind.
Something hollow opens in your chest as you shake your head, as if that will dislodge them.
Edward glances back at you again. His gold eyes crease with concern, but ignoring him seems better than admitting to something so stupid. You’re a vampire now, nothing like that will happen. Instead, you let thoughts of Jasper fill your mind. His smile. His eyes. Anything to keep you distracted until you’re in his arms.
Bella must tell Edward where to go, because the next thing you know, you’re pulling up to the restaurant you were meant to meet Jessica and Angela at. They are barely walking out the door as you park. Bella jumps out, probably to greet them, and Edward goes to follow, but you stop him with a hand on his elbow. Gold eyes flash back to meet yours, still concerned and questioning.
“Thank you,” you all but whisper, squeezing his elbow gently.
His features soften, a small, genuine smile flashing over his lips, “Go. I’ll take care of Bella. Alice told Jasper about tonight, he needs you just as much right now.”
Those words wash over you like a warm tide. Somehow, the thought of Jasper in a rage over your safety, despite you being almost stronger than him now, makes you feel a little better. His protectiveness almost matches your own, though yours spans to practically everyone around you.
Speaking of. 
You slip out of the car and give Bella one last once over. She looks…okay. No bruises. No lingering fear. Like it never happened. Satisfied, you nod to yourself and pull her into a tight, almost crushing hug. She jumps, wheezing out a soft laugh.
“I’m fine, (Y/n).”
“I know, I know. Just, stay with Eddie, okay? He’ll get you food and take you home.”
Bella frowns, “Where are you going?”
“To see Jasper.” You offer her a guilty smile, though she nods her understanding. “Eddie called him right before he got to us, so he’s freaking out a little.” Another nod. “Love you, Bells.”
“Love you, too.”
One last squeeze and you pull away, offering the two other girls a short wave, “Night girls, get home safe, alright?”
“You too, (Y/n)!”
“It was nice seeing you again.”
As you turn to leave, you hear Bella flip on her heels, laughter in her voice, “Eddie?”
Edward’s following groan casts off the last of your dark clouds. You’ll pay for that somehow, you’re sure, but it’ll be totally worth the pure enjoyment it brings you. He hates it when you call him that. Almost as much as Bella hates it when you call her Tinkerbell. Another match.
The silver lining of this all is that you have a convenient reason to leave them alone together.
And based on the events of the night, Bella will probably have more questions than Edward can answer without lying. Plus the book. Everything’s lining up, it’ll just depend on how much Edward outs himself!
---
Part 5 (ending)
I hope y'all enjoyed! The next part will likely be the last! And sorry if you missed Jasper in this part :( I try to keep my stories to below 4k words, so I decided to keep that for the next part.
@avadakadabra93
@glaciuswduo
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kix-mm · 5 months
Text
A once cruel god. G/t short story 2/??
Pt 1
The human dared not look up at the god. Out of fear of seeing the expression on their face and knowing their dreadful fate. The human had just been sick all over the gods hand, the same god that ate their legs and arm, the same god that carved their name into the humans back and had the human almost die in some of the most gruesome ways, the very same monster that fell head over heels for this human...
"Amber... I'm..." Victor was speechless. This was by far the most horrid result he had witnessed. By his own doing, he had singlehandedly ruined their life. Their chance of having a well-deserved life of comfort and peace after all they had gone through. Instead, the human was barely clothed, starved, and shunned from human society. What seemed worse. The human seemed to prefer living on the streets than being found by the god ever again.
Victor would have been offended by this knowledge only a few years ago, but he knew better now. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. He had no chance of redemption, but the least he could do was offer something to make the human's life more comfortable.
"Amber... let me take you home, let me clean you, feed you, and give you a place to rest..." is what they wished they could say, but they already knew the answer would never be one he liked. So, instead, he did the most selfish thing he knew to do. Taking the human back home without letting them have a say in the matter, the human was hysterical, sobbing, thrashing, screaming till they lost their voice.
"Amber, Amber, it's okay, you're safe, see? It's home-" Amber threw a small rock in retaliation, one of the only things they managed to use as self defense, one of the only things they still were in possession of.
"Take me back! Take me back!! Take me back, you selfish beast! You monster!!" Amber screamed out of anger, but it was short-lived as they suddenly froze.
They watched the gods' expression shift from worry to offended, and suddenly everything went deafeningly quiet for what seemed like an eternity.
"Amber...?" Victor watched as the human completely froze and... Oh no, poor thing... it soiled itself... Victor watched in shock as the human just sat there and began sobbing once more. They felt both ashamed and scared.
Victor quickly took them to the bathroom and had a small bath run for Amber in the sink. Everything was going horribly. The human was a traumatized mess. The god was sinking into unimaginable guilt and was trying his best to care for Amber, all while trying his best not to begin crying for the sake of the human. This wasn't supposed to be how it was... it was supposed to be a good day, a happy day, but the god instead had a traumatic wake-up call to his passed. He was far worse than he realized.
"Amber, Amber, it's okay, it's okay, I'm sorry, I thought this would help... please stay still..." he spoke in his softest voice while cleaning and dressing them, this alone took over 2 and a half hours because of the deep infections in the himans wounds and how hysterical Amber was.
Amber had eventually exhausted themselves and passed out from shock. Any time something similar happened, their body's defense was just to completely shut down to ensure minimum trauma and survival.
Victor gently laid Amber into their very own bed and tucked them in before finally letting himself break down into tears and apologies. His heavy tears hit the marble floor, which made many human sevants rush over to clean the spillage. He made sure to be extra careful around the humans when moving and sat himself down on the edge of his bed. Amber's bed was right on his nightstand, so he could keep a good eye on them just in case they woke up in a panic... although... maybe seeing the very god that ruined your life trying to comfort you wasn't ideal...
Victor let out a deep sigh, watching Amber sleep looked painful. They would flinch and shiver, whimpering every now and then while their cheeks were stained with tears, at least they were clean, and they had clean clothes on, a warm bed, and... they were safe, for once...
Victor gently rubbed the humans head, their hair had grown over the years, and had been messily cut in an attempt to keep it short. Probably to ensure nobody could grab them by it like he used to... and their face was still so precious, despite the unflattering marks. He wondered if they did it themselves or if someone did it as a favor. There was no doubt that Amber would have thanked the stranger...
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theyanderespecialist · 4 months
Text
Fearful Bunny (SCENARIO) Yandere William Afton X Survivor Reader (Five Nights At Freddy's)
[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter! This chapter is a request from Tumblr. With a reader having Leporiphobia which is the phobia of rabbits. So I got the idea that Reader was supposed to be the 6th missing child. But instead, she got away. She had severe PTSD and repressed most of her memories. But it came with a deep-seated phobia of rabbits. Cause William Afton had worn his Spring Bonnie suit. 
(Disclaimer 1: READER IS AN ADULT IN THIS AT THE AGE OF 19
Disclaimer 2: William Afton is YANDERE ONLY WHEN HE MEETS YOU AGAIN WHEN YOU APPLY FOR A JOB!
Disclaimer 3: William Afton is not a good person, but he is NOT Yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for Fictional characters, fictional serial killers, and fictional yanderes is fine. Just do not simp for REAL LIFE ONES, and do NOT be gross or illegal! Yanderes and people like William Afton ARE NOT Okay to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 
(No One's POV) 
(Name) had a deep phobia of rabbits. A terrible Phobia of them. All she could remember was that horrid rabbit face as she screamed. Since then she had the biggest fear of them. She has been down on her luck. She needs a job. So she is looking at the want ads. When she comes across an ad for a security guard job. The pay was shit, and the hours were almost as bad. 
She is desperate so she calls the phone number. 
"Hello, William Afton." The voice says. 
"Hi, I am calling about the security guard job." She tells him. 
"Very good, come by the Pizzeria." He says and hangs up. 
This is either a way to get her out there so he can kill her. Or he needs a security guard, bad. (Name) decided to take the risk, grabbing her mace just in case. She then drove to the pizzeria. It for sure had seen better days. Real better days. She shakes her head and gets out of her car. She sees a man waiting for her. He is lanky and has his hair done nicely. 
"Mr. Afton?" (Name) asks him. 
"Ah, you must be the girl who called me, please come to my office." He says after staring at (Nanme) for a minute. 
The two of them walk in and (Name) is having a case of Deja Vu but she shakes it off. They make it to his office and he has her sit down. 
"So, I am in a tight pinch, I need a security guard. So I will most likely hire you, just need to do the paperwork, so I can pay you at the end of the week." He tells her. 
She nods her head. 
"Name?" He asks. 
"(Name) (Last Name)." She tells him and he almost drops her pin. He looks up and stares at her. 
That was a name from his past. The one kid he could not kill. She is all grown up and she is so stunning, it was a real good thing he did not kill her. Because he now wants her and he is not going to lose her. 
"Coffee?" He asks and goes to make her some. 
"Sure." She says and he slips something into her drink. Giving it to her. She drinks it out of nerves and they continue. 
"I will be right back," He tells her. "Do not run little bunny~" 
She tensed at that and he went getting into his Spring Bonnie suit. Then he cut the power. Well, most of it. He then went in. She was in the hall and when she saw him, she froze and looked like she was about to have a panic attack. Her body just froze up. So it was true, she did have a fear of rabbits. I chuckle and walk to her. She is still frozen. 
"Run little bunny, or the big bad rabbit will get you~," I tell her and she turns on her heel and runs. 
He was hot on her heels and he laughed at the chase. I did not take that long to catch her. The drug in her system kicking in. She went limp in his arms, either from the drug or fear it did not matter. She was his now. His fearful little bunny. 
[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done, I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 
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lightandheatao3 · 18 days
Text
The Bunker - Criminal Minds
Chapter 8: The Story
Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.
Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.
AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.
Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.
Chapter Summary: Spencer and Emily have a moment to talk.
Read chapter 8 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
It was strange how rapidly time had lost all sense of meaning. Days ceased to exist. Hours, minutes, none of it meant anything.These words had been repeated devoid of context or reference so many times they had become completely divorced from the concepts they represented.
He had come to conceptualize of time in the form of bags of fruit.
All that existed in the world was the intervals between fruit deliveries. Those dire stretches of waiting to see if the next thing to come through that door would be doom, or just another bag with too much citrus and not enough apples.
He never thought he would miss fruit again. In fact, he strongly suspected that after leaving the bunker (if they ever did), none of them would ever eat another piece of fresh fruit as long as they lived.
Yet here he was, longing for it.
Since waking up in the stripped bare and scrubbed clean bunker, the clock had stopped.
There had been no more fruit.
Not a single delivery by which to set their metaphorical watches.
Time was transmogrifying once again, warping to fit the shape of this new reality.
It was stretching thin like a long piece of thread. The longer the thread pulled, the hungrier they all got. Once the thread pulled taught and snapped… Well, he didn’t want to think too much about it.
He knew all the theory behind starvation. He did not want to apply this knowledge in practice.
After a week (a week? 14 bags of fruit) in the bunker, they had given up the idea of sleeping in shifts. For the sake of their own sanity, they had decided it was necessary to maintain a routine. Some bastardized semblance of night and day under the endless fluorescent light.
How strange to yearn for the sense of safety they had back then, before the gas. He vowed to never again think ‘it couldn’t be worse,’ because it could be. It always could be.
They had once again taken to sleeping in shifts.
Each of them was desperate to be alerted the very moment food was delivered through that horrid, immovable door. If it ever was again.
They wanted someone awake at all times to look for the trickle or gas from the vent. If it happened again while they were all asleep, they wouldn't be able to cobble together their makeshift masks and protect themselves in some small way.
None of them wanted to have what happened to him, happen to them.
His throat didn't hurt much anymore, at least. He wished he could say the same for his stomach.
It was himself and Emily that were on watch this time. The others slept on the far side of the room, away from the door. He sat nearer the door while Emily paced back and forth. It took a while for the others to fall still and slip into a deeper sleep. They were, understandably, not particularly relaxed.
The cold concrete floor didn’t make for a comfortable bed. Thin, crappy mattresses: Another luxury of days gone by that he found himself dreaming of.
At last, Emily stilled her pacing and looked across at their companions. They had both kept as silent as they could for…. Hours? Minutes? The time it takes for a partially eaten apple to turn an unappetizing brown?
Whatever criteria she had been looking for to assure herself they were in a deep enough sleep, she apparently saw it.
She sat beside him, knees pulled up to her chest, and spoke softly. The room was big enough you could scarcely hear a whisper from the other side even when you were trying, so there wasn’t much danger of bothering them.
“I’m going out of my mind,” she said urgently. “It feels so stupid to say it, as it’s clearly the least of our problems, but I am so bored I could tear my hair out.”
“I understand,” he said. “There are only so many games of mental chess I can play before I start mentally flipping the board.”
She snorted, then hushed herself with a sheepish glance at the others. He smiled.
They were silent again for a moment. It was kind of nice to have some time with her without the others watching. She was the only one who never made him feel pitied.
Soon, though, in as little time as it would take to peel an orange, something in the silence shifted.
He glanced over and saw her her eyes fixed on him, looking as if she had something she wanted to say.
He was tempted to cut her off before she had a chance. He was so sick of everyone trying to make him talk.
He sighed.
He was too tired and too hungry and too bored and too lonely.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
Her gaze softened. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
He stared at her, deliberately blank. “About what?”
“Don’t be an asshole,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs lightly.
He smirked. “No really, is there something specific on your mind? Something in particular about me that has you concerned? I wouldn't know.”
She punched him in the upper arm, this time not so lightly. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, do you know that?”
She shoved him and he shoved her back. He leaned his head against the wall with a soft laugh. For a moment they both just breathed.
“Why didn’t you talk to me about John Cooley?” asked Spencer. “He died a year and half ago and I didn’t even know.”
“Because I felt guilty and ashamed,” she admitted candidly. “And because you weren’t around for me to talk to. You haven’t been for a while now.”
He looked down at the floor. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said earnestly.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said. “Just… You know I’m not judging you, right? I’m worried about you, sure, but I don’t think any less of you. Even if you never get clean, I still love you.”
“I know,” he said softly. A beat. “Why? Why aren’t you judging? Everyone else is.”
She didn’t try to convince him otherwise. They both knew he was right. The others might love him, and a couple of them might try to convince him they weren't judging, but they couldn’t help it. It changed the way they saw him, and he understood why. It changed the way he saw himself.
After a while, Emily said, “I think you and I are alike in a lot of ways. I don’t have to tell you that I’ve made some self-destructive choices in my time. I think... I don’t know… I think I want people to know me? Really know me. But I only show them the parts I want them to see, never the full picture. Then, I feel hurt that they don’t really understand me even though I never gave them the chance. Sound familiar?”
He looked her up and down. He thought about all the times he resented them all for not understanding what he was struggling with. He thought about how much more he resented them when they tried to talk to him about it.
He nodded.
He asked: “What would you have done if I had come to you with this?”
“I would have tried to help you.”
“Help me stop using?”
She mused on that for a second. “Yes, but also helped you get whatever support you needed to address why you’re using in the first place,” she said evenly.
“And if I told you I didn’t want that?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. One of the others stirred for a moment but settled quickly. “I would have told you that you couldn’t work on cases anymore until you addressed the problem,” she admitted. “It’s not safe. You know that.”
He nodded again. “That's what I thought. That's also why I haven't come back to the BAU yet. I wasn't ready to choose. Being a profiler, or…” he left the other option unsaid.
“And now? Do you know what you want?”
“I want,” he said, “for all of us to get out of this bunker.”
“After that?”
He looked at her, wanting to reassure her. To give her some small ray of hope and promise her that he wanted to change. But she knew him too well and he respected her too much to pretend, so he said nothing.
The furrow of her brow informed him that she understood his silence all too well.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Spence, but… you know you’re not okay, right? I mean,” she gestured broadly at the room, “obviously none of us are okay. But aside from all this. Whether or not you choose to get help, you do recognize that this isn’t a good way to live?”
His stomach twisted. “I don’t know.” It's not as if his life had been better when he was clean. He didn’t want to think too much about it.
"Heroin, Spencer. You know the risks. I get it, it's more economical than medical grade pharmaceuticals. I bet a habit is hard to support while you're also paying for your mothers care, even on a salary like yours. It adds up." He wanted to yell at her to stop profiling him, to stop talking, but all he could do was look at his hands as he wound them together absently. She powered on, "It could be cut with anything. You can only be so careful."
"What do you want me to say?" he whispered.
“I don't know. I guess I just want to understand. Do you… do you want to die?”
He felt a jolt in his chest, as if he was falling. Her voice sounded small. Frightened. Desperately unlike the Emily Prentiss he knew.
“No,” he assured her. “I am not suicidal. I'm not John. You don't have to worry about that."
“Do you want to live?”
A beat.
Did he? Of course he did. Of course he wanted to live. “Yes,” he said, knowing immediately that it had taken him too long to say it.
She frowned. “One last one, and this might be the hard one,” she said. “Would you still want to live if you couldn’t get high anymore?”
A beat.
“I-” his breath hitched. “I don’t think this is really the time or the place for this conversation,” he said shortly, a lump forming in his throat.
A hand entangled itself in his and squeezed gently. He stared at the far wall, blinking back moisture that threatened to spill. After a few seconds, a head came to rest on his shoulder.
“Just promise me you won’t disappear on me when we get out of here. Let’s keep talking, even when neither of us have anything good to say,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes. When we get out. Maybe he could believe it if he just tried hard enough. “I promise.”
They sat together in silence for... a minute? An hour? The time it takes to eat half a bag of fruit?
His head was lolling down, eyes heavy, when Emily’s hushed voice jolted him back into alertness.
“So,” she started with a conspiratorial whisper, “would you really fuck Luke? Because you did not have to think about that answer at all.”
“Shut up,” he snapped back, burying his face in his hands. “It was just a game.”
She smiled wryly. “Do you like like him?” she goaded.
He laughed just a little too loud. Emily hushed him and he rushed to stifle it. They looked over to their sleeping friends. A couple of them stirred briefly but did not wake.
Spencer replied in a careful whisper, “No. You’re being childish.”
She narrowed her eyes, assessing him coolly. “But you would sleep with him, wouldn’t you?”
It wasn’t a question.
"Is it too late to go back to talking about my drug use?"
"Yep! We're talking about this now. Answer the question."
He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged. Apparently, it was all the answer she needed. Her eyes widened.
“I knew it!” she exclaimed victoriously, followed instantly by slapping her hand over her mouth.
A series of groans emanated from across the room. Hotch was the fastest to his feet, followed by Derek, both looking at Emily questioningly, poised as if ready to fight.
“What do you know? What’s happening?” asked Derek, rubbing his eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” said Emily sheepishly while Spencer laughed at her. “I didn’t mean for that to be so loud. Everything is fine please go back to sleep,” she insisted.
“Too late for that,” said JJ, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.
“Did something happen?” asked Rossi. “Any new deliveries?”
“No,” said Emily to a room full of discouraged, gaunt faces. “Just Spencer and I talking shit."
“Oh yeah?” said Derek with a slanted smirk, glancing between Emily and Spencer. “What were you talking about that’s got you so worked up?”
Emily met Spencer’s eyes for a fraction of a second. He hoped it was enough for her to understand. This was not the setting in which he wanted to have that conversation.
“We were talking about the most trouble we ever got in at school,” she said without missing a beat. “I always knew Spencer was more of a troublemaker than he lets on.”
“Why am I not surprised?” said Derek with a laugh.
“Well, let’s hear it then,” prompted Rossi, still bleary eyed.
“It’s not that bad,” Spencer said, glad that Emily had provided a deflection he could work with so easily. “I was suspended one time in an otherwise exceptional academic career.”
“What could you have possibly done that was bad enough to make them suspend you? The positive media attention you must have been bringing the school would have been invaluable. I would have thought you could get away with anything," said JJ, her old public relations training never too far below the surface.
It was true. Prodigious geniuses could bring a lot of additional funding and opportunities for schools. That didn’t necessarily mean his teachers liked him or felt particularly protective of him.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” he prefaced. “It was right before I graduated, after I’d received early admission from Cal Tech. There were some older kids at school who had given me a hard time for the past few years,” to put it mildly, “and since I was going to be leaving, I decided I may as well…” he waved his hand in the air, trying to conjure the right words.
“Fuck up their shit?” Derek supplied.
Spencer smiled. “Pretty much. Most of them were preparing for their final exams and I found out that they had paid to access answer keys for some of the tests. My plan was to find out who they were getting the answer keys from and swap out the documents with incorrect keys,” he explained.
“That is a very you approach to vengeance,” said Rossi.
“Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go to plan. I found out their source was from the high school that a friend of mine attended. When I asked my friend for help, he, uh, had some other ideas about how I should be getting back at them. He’d had some similar problems with kids at his own school, but he wasn’t graduating quite as early as me, so I think he was trying to get some vicarious catharsis, maybe.”
Hotch cocked his head. “Ethan,” he said, and Spencer’s stomach twisted. “I remember you talking about him.”
The others nodded in recognition. Emily tilted her head at him curiously. He was sure they all remembered him talking about Ethan, as it was followed very quickly by him absconding from his duties to go visit his old friend during the Ripper case in New Orleans.
“Yeah. Ethan wasn’t as, how should I say this? Reserved, as I was. He thought I should take more extreme measures and I might have let him talk me into it,” he said sheepishly.
“What did you do?” asked Emily, leaning in, apparently forgetting that she was pretending that she’d already heard this story right before waking the others.
Nobody seemed to notice. Or maybe they did, but just didn’t care.
“We- well, the plan was we were going to break into school at night and put, um…” he didn’t want to say it. “This is so embarrassing. We were going to put marijuana in their lockers and then tip off the principal to do a search.”
JJ gasped. “That is devious,” she said with mock indignation.
"Man, with everything you've told me about those assholes, they probably deserved a lot worse than that," said Derek, shaking his head.
“Weren’t you 12 when you graduated high school? How did you even know where to get pot?” asked Emily.
“I didn’t,” he clarified. “I mean, it's Vegas, so it wouldn't have been difficult, but Ethan was the one driving the whole thing. All he had to do was steal it from his father.”
“So how is it that two geniuses with a perfect plan and a thirst for vengeance manage to screw up badly enough to get suspended?” asked Derek, eyes brighter than Spencer had seen them since they had woken up after the gas.
“It would have gone off without a hitch. I was picking the padlocks; Ethan was keeping lookout. I was terrified the entire time, but honestly? It was exciting to feel like I was finally able to fight back. Unfortunately, Ethan hadn’t accounted for just how much of a bastard his father was.”
The others seemed surprised at Spencer describing someone in that way, let alone his friend's father. They wouldn’t be surprised if they had met the man. Spencer didn’t think of himself as a judgemental person, but bastard was a mild description of Ethan’s father.
Hotch grimaced. “I suspect I know where this is going.”
Of course he did. Ethan would like Hotch, he thought. The two of them had a lot in common despite their contrasting personalities.
“His father reported us to the police. I still don't know what he told them, but they caught us trespassing on school grounds after hours. We got lucky and heard them coming just in time to run for the bathroom and flush the remaining evidence. They didn’t think to do a sweep of the lockers and the boys who we were trying to set up certainly weren't going to report drugs in their lockers."
The memories came to him as they always did; crisp and clean as if it had all happened yesterday. Ethan was wearing a thick blue jumper even though it was warm out. The taller police officer was named Michael Diaz and he laughed when Spencer begged him not to tell his mom, then called her anyway.
"Oh god,” he breathed. He was surprised by the pang of shame that shot through his heart. “I was so afraid of what my mom was going to think. They were going to tell her that we were there to get high and I was scared she wouldn't believe me when I told her the truth,” he said tightly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want her to think that I could be stupid enough to do something like that.”
The irony wasn’t lost on any of them. Suddenly, the story didn’t seem so funny.
It had seemed so obvious to him at that age. Right and wrong were as easy as asking himself, would this disappoint my mom?
He could tell them how the story ended.
Ethan willingly took the blame for everything before Spencer could say a word and got hit with a misdemeanor charge for trespassing. Thankfully, that was all they could prove. He was a juvenile first-time offender with a glowing academic record, so the case was dismissed, but that didn’t stop his father from beating the shit out of him for it.
Spencer’s mom didn’t pick up the phone when the police tried to call her, so officer Diaz drove him home. When the school sent a letter informing her that he was suspended, he tore it up and told her he was feeling too sick to go in. She never questioned it. She just seemed happy to have him home.
He could tell them all of that.
But he didn’t need to.
It was hard to look back at that 12 year old boy and imagine how he could become the kind of man who his mother would be ashamed of if she only knew the truth.
“Did you ever talk to your mom about what happened in Georgia? About everything that came after?” asked JJ gently.
“Of course not,” he answered quickly. “What good would that do?”
“It might make you feel better,” she offered. “I think she would understand.”
“She already worries about me so much. She’s not well. It wouldn’t help anything to worry her more.” She would probably forget it right after he told her, anyway. He sighed. “I hope someone’s checking in on her.”
“I’m sure Penelope is,” said Emily, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure the others are looking out for all of our families,” she said to the room. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we’re going to be okay. You're going to see them again. I promise you; we’re going to make it out of this.”
Hotch nodded at her, a gesture of support. “Emily is right. I know we’re all exhausted and scared and hungry, but we know that there are people on the outside who are looking for us. We have to trust them to do their jobs.”
"It's not gonna matter much if we starve in here," said Derek ruefully.
“The thing about hunger,” said Rossi, “is that sooner than later it’s going to fuck with your head in ways you don’t expect. But it won’t last forever. It doesn’t fit the profile for her to starve us and if we're right about either her or her accomplice having medical training, then they won't let it go too far. As hard as it sounds, we have to try to keep morale up, and the best way to deal with hunger is distraction. So let’s cut it with the melancholy and find a way to keep ourselves entertained. Reid,” he said. Spencer stared at him questioningly. “Have you ever considered narrating an audiobook?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No?”
Audiobooks were not his preferred medium. He found them unbearably slow.
“Too bad. Because I think a good book is just what the situation calls for and as the only one of us with an eidetic memory, you’ve drawn the short straw.”
Spencer couldn’t help but crack a small smile, doing his best impression of a man who wasn't hollow inside. “As long as I get to choose the book.”
“Naturally.”
The thread of time stretched longer, pulled taught, crept ever closer to breaking. He hungered. It gnashed and gnawed, making his stomach turn and his forearm itch and he couldn't say for sure which hunger he would satisfy first if he had the choice.
But he pushed it down. In his mind, he ran his finger along a row of books in a vast library, and thought about what story would best bring them all a little comfort.
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