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atxxzist · 23 days

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sweetest lies | c.s (03)

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pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: none but lmk

you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.

look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.

but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.

you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"

the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.

you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.

"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.

but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.

"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.

"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."

you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.

there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.

"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.

you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.

you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.

how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.

which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.

she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.

it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.

dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.

fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.

“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”

the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.

“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”

“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.

you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.

“shut up. you know what i mean.”

“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.

“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.

you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.

“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”

between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.

but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.

“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.

seonghwa snickers.

“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.

he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.

you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.

“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”

because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.

“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.

you snicker lowly.

“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”

he shrugs.

"that's your choice."

but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.

the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.

you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.

you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.

"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.

“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.

“pardon?”

“i’m sorry, about this morning.”

it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.

it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.

san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.

but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.

"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.

"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."

he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.

there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.

know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.

there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.

and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.

"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.

you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.

"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.

you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.

he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.

"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.

because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.

how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.

if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.

you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.

and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.

you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.

it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.

and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.

you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.

one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.

"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."

he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.

he wouldn't want to lose you over this.

you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.

"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."

because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.

"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.

"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."

he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.

nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.

"i hope you're taking care of yourself."

you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.

"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."

you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.

and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.

"where would you be transferring?"

"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."

plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.

"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.

"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.

you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.

"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.

"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."

yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.

he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.

"apology accepted," he says.

you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.

"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."

you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.

it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.

san: yunho told me

san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?

you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.

y/n: he really be snitching, huh

san: so it's true ☹️

you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.

y/n: maybe 🤷

san: 😔

san: just when we were starting to get along too

y/n: lol. you'll be fine.

shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.

ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.

san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away

y/n: i'm not

y/n: i just want to do something different

san: if you say so

san: you free this evening?

y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours

san: wanna do something? 🙂

y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃

san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction

you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.

y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work

san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉

it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.

"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.

"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."

you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.

"i had to get out of my work outfit."

he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.

"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.

"stew sounds really good right now," you say.

"soft tofu stew?"

"that's fine. but make it spicy."

you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.

"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.

"got any sodas?"

"i got some coke."

"that'll do."

he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.

"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.

"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.

"fair enough," he mumbles.

you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"

he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.

"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."

you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.

"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."

"yeah. it cost a fortune."

"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.

"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.

"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.

he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"

you scoff and shake your head.

you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.

“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”

you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.

"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"

"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."

you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.

growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.

"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.

"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."

"but why?" he pushes.

you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.

"i told you i wanted to travel."

"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.

you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.

he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.

"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.

"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.

you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."

you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.

"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."

your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.

"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.

"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"

"shut up," you hiss.

as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.

the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.

and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.

tuesday 4:32 p.m.

san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂

san: *attachment*

y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive

y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person

it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.

getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.

you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.

san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄

y/n: i'm just looking

y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself

san: 😢

you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).

wednesday 1:20 p.m.

san: what time do you finish work today

y/n: i always finish at 6

san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂

y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare

san: ☹️

san: it's not

san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle

y/n: 🥱

san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.

something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.

"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.

"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.

he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.

"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.

"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.

you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.

"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.

"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."

"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"

he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.

"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.

"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."

"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.

on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.

"and you don't think it's nice?"

"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."

san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.

"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.

"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.

you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.

"you scared?" he tease.

"what? no," you blow.

"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.

"what kind of questions though?"

it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."

you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.

fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.

"oh fuck, it's me."

it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."

"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."

you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.

"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"

he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.

"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."

he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."

a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.

"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."

"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."

you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.

and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.

"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.

"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.

"don't ask questions that will break your heart."

"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."

"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.

"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."

"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."

"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.

"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.

"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.

"what did you think of me when we first met?"

you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.

"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."

he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.

the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.

"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"

and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.

"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."

the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.

"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.

"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.

"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."

it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.

"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."

it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.

"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.

"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.

"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.

"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."

"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.

"then i would be really upset."

you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.

"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.

some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.

the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.

it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.

he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.

but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.

are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?

that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.

he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.

which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.

but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.

"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.

he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.

"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"

"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.

two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.

it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.

"wow. already?"

"yeah."

san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.

he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?

tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.

you think you're losing it.

you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.

though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.

when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.

you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.

you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.

despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.

after all, what does he owe you?

you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.

but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.

long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.

“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.

“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.

then it's as if everything was a mistake.

choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.

your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.

you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.

so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.

you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.

because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?

everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.

your parents, yunho and your sister, san...

you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.

you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.

san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me

y/n: something came up sorry

y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan

a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny

#y'all don't even know #the demons i fought #just to get 7k out of my ass #y/n got serious issues #but i hope y'all will still enjoy the drama #ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #fic: sweetestlies

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sebuckyverse · 1 year

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roommates [chapter 1]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 1,8k a/n: hello i'm back!! happy valentines day to all my besties and my wife of course! i'm celebrating my birthday today so as a gift to you, i give you a new series! i'm nervous about this bc i'm convinced this is trash lmao LET ME KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK babes ps! i originally didn't intend to give this an era, but due to some things that happen in future chapters this turned out modern again lol sorryy

masterlist ↡ askbox ↡ next chapter ↠

chapter one ♫♪♩·.¸¸

''Absolutely not!''

''Come on, he's not that bad.''

''No, Steve. I'd rather sleep on the streets.''

''You'd rather be homeless then live with him?''

''Yes.''

Steve sighed, hands on his hips, striking his signature mom pose. ''What the hell happened between you two, anyway?''

''What, he hasn't told you?''

''He's told me his version of events. You on the other hand, never seem to want to talk about it.''

Sighing, you stared into the glass sat in front of you, filled with clear liquid with a greenish hue underneath, twirling the small paper umbrella Steve added as a joke.

''It doesn't matter. What Eddie Munson and I once had, or didn't have, theoretically, is in the past.''

''Then take the room. You're both working, you'll hardly ever see each other.''

Dragging your words, you nervously played with the ends of your hair. ''I don't know...''

''Look, I gotta open the doors. You can stay in the back office tonight if you want, there's an uncomfortable leather couch with your name on it. I'd let you crash at ours, but Nance has been... emotional.''

''She okay?'' you winced, hopping of the barstool you had been sitting on the last hour.

''She thinks she can feel the baby kicking but then she realizes that it's far too early for that and starts crying.''

''Oh,'' you cooed. ''She's just excited.''

''Yeah, I know. I'm excited, too.''

You closed the door to the office space that would be your bedroom for the night. It was small, but held a small desk with various papers scattered on it, a bookshelf half empty and as promised, a worn out brown leather couch. Dropping your purse on the desk, you retrieved your phone and sat down on the couch. You rested your head on the back of the couch, eyes closed, nearly falling asleep if it weren't for the sudden rock music booming outside. You'd almost forgotten you were at Steve's place of work, a bar downtown called the Black Room.

Staring at the bleak ceiling, you bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your eyes getting watery. For the past year, after graduating high school, you had been working your ass off at a local diner across town. You were saving money for college, and other things, since you didn't receive the scholarship you hoped would change your life. Every time you got a paycheck, you withdrew some of it and kept it aside. In the year since you started working, the saved amount wasn't big, but it was still significant to you and you were proud of yourself for keeping it and not spending the money like that little devil on your shoulder keeps suggesting sometimes.

But all of that was now gone, and all it took was a simple mistake of trusting the wrong person and all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down, taking your money with it. To save some money, you moved in with an old friend from high school, Jennie. What you didn't know, was that Jennie was also a pathological liar, who was in financial debt and to ease those debts, found the money you had kept hidden under your mattress (a dumb place to hide money, you know that) and stole it to pay off some of her debts.

Throwing Jennie out was not an option unfortunately, the apartment lease was under her name, so without much thought, you turned on your heel and marched right back out. Heading down the street, you had no idea where you were going. You made it two blocks from your home and nearly collided with a lamp post, when the sound of a bus horn somewhere behind you brought you back to reality. You hopped on the bus that stopped a few feet away from you and headed straight downtown to the Black Room, where you knew Steve would be working tonight.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing you knew, something was kicking at your feet.

''My, my... Look what the cat dragged in.''

You'd recognize that voice anywhere; deep, sometimes raspy from all the cigarettes he likes to smoke, or at least he used to. It's the voice you used to hear late at night, reading a book out loud when you couldn't sleep due to the thunder outside, or when that same voice used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you weren't feeling well. It's also the voice that, one day, in less than 12 hours, turned from sweet and caring to cold and distant.

Right, you forgot he worked here too.

You were laying on your side, feet hanging off the couch. You opened your eyes and the first thing you saw were pair of black jeans, ripped from the right knee and left thigh, one of his Converse clad foot was kicking your heels. A black Henley with the front tucked into his pants, the unforgettable handcuff belt on full display with the black leather more worn out than the last time you saw it, Eddie was looking down at you like a God above, the ceiling lamp above him casting a glow around his hair, still the same as it was in high school - at least some things never change.

''Edward.'' You pushed up from the couch, wincing at the tired muscles of your back. Steve was right, that couch was shit.

The use of his full name always used to irritate him, but if it bothered him now, he didn't show it. Instead, he clicked his tongue and took a few steps to his left and sat on the desk, his hands resting beside him, gripping the edge of the table. ''Whatcha doing here, sweetheart? Haven't seen you in years.''

''First of all, don't call me that,'' you sighed. ''Second, that's none of your business.''

Eddie smirked. ''You're at my place of work, it's kind of my business.''

''What time is it?'' you felt around for your phone, but didn't find it.

''Oh, it's uh...'' Eddie pulled a phone out of his back pocket, your phone. ''02:14 am.''

''Hey! Give me that,'' you held your palm up.

Eddie looked at your hand for a moment, before handing the phone back to you, the back of his knuckles grazing your palm. You swallowed down the spark you felt speed across your arm. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up to his elbow, exposing tattoos you had never seen before as well as his toned arms. Doing a quick once over, you noticed his physique was fuller... everywhere. Does he work out? He was pretty tall and lanky back in high school, but now he looked like he had grown into his body; the jeans were hugging his thighs and his shoulders seemed more defined.

Clearing your throat, you asked, ''Why did you even have that? Is stealing your side hustle now?''

''It was laying on the floor, pardon me. Didn't want to step on it.''

''Fine. Thanks for not stepping on it, I guess,'' you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on the bookshelf.

''Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm doing here?''

''Don't you work here?''

''Yeah, but not tonight.''

''Okay, I honestly don't care, so...''

''Oh, don't be like that. After all, I'm here to save you.''

You turned to look at him, and that turned Eddie's small smirk into a big Cheshire cat like grin. ''Save me?''

''Steve called me and told me about your predicament.''

Groaning, you threw your head back against the couch. ''God damn Steve.''

''Look, I know we have... history and everything, but I'm only here as a friend. Consider it an olive branch for how things ended back in high school.''

You gaped at him, your eyes bulging and your mouth hanging open. ''Wow. Okay. No, thank you.''

Eddie rolled his eyes. ''You have nowhere else to go.''

''Yes, I do,'' you lied, and very obviously so. You were never any good at it.

''Then why are you sleeping on this fucked up couch?''

Gritting your teeth, you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. Damn Steve and his loud mouth, you were going to hit him on the head. Eddie sighed and got up from the desk, coming closer and crouching next to the couch.

''The offer stands 'til the end of the week. You need a room and I need a roommate now that Steve's gone. I work here every Wednesday through Saturday and after that I usually sleep for two days to get ready for my next shift. We'll hardly ever see each other.''

''Tonight's Wednesday and you're not working.''

''I needed a personal day,'' he winked.

''You know, I've heard about your gigolo way of life.''

Eddie laughed, his eyes shining in the process. ''Gigolo?''

''You're a manwhore.''

Snorting, Eddie rested his hand on his palm, covering his mouth. ''Is that what Steve told you?''

''Are you denying it?'

''No,'' he mused, his voice muffled behind his fist.

''See, that's why I can't move in. I don't want to hear that every night.''

''You used to like hearing me moan in your ear.''

Eddie must have seen the hurt flash across your eyes, since he suddenly grew quiet himself.

His voice was lower now, more serious. What he said next, made you whip your head around and look at those big, chocolate brown eyes that you used to miss so much. ''I know you hate me, I understand that. Despite what happened back then, I still care about you. As a friend, of course. Yes, I sleep around and I am a man so the place is probably messier than you'd like, but I'm offering you a free place to stay. I know you don't have any money either, I'm good to cover us both for a while. Take it or leave it.''

''Why would you do this?'' you asked, looking deep into his eyes, like you were searching for his soul through them.

Sitting so close to him, your chest constricted at all the memories and what if's that have bombarded you throughout the years. Three years after you fled high school, never looking back, he still had a hold on you and you hated him for it. Hated the way he smelled exactly the same but new at the same time, the way he looked like he used to but more mature, the way you still felt your heart nearly burst out of your throat when he looked at you with those stupid brown eyes. You despised him, because after all this time, you still felt the same. If you do this, you had to keep your heart closed, lock it away and swallow the key. Eddie Munson broke your heart once, you won't let him do it again.

''Fine. I'll take it.''

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #sebuckyverse #roommates

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htchnr · 26 days

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05 ★ heartless love crime ❥ ch: remember me.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ public sex ⋆ fingering ⋆ piv ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ biting ⋆ creampie ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY ➻ At the vibration in your purse, you maneuvered the bags to one side and pulled out your phone. It was a message from Aaron. One that your brow twitched at. "Remember me on your date tomorrow." WC ➻ 5,8K.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ hi 😁 this is not a nice series! i want to make that clear!! Hotch is toxic, rude and awful in this. (yet so hot at the same time uhg)

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ next chapter will be the last chapter for this series! so i hope you all enjoyed this short ride as much as i did!

★ - © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! - ★

➻❥ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. ➻❥ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

"Where are you?"

You stood outside the storefront of Macy's, off to the side to not block the entrance. Phone pressed to your ear, you covered your other ear to hear the line better. You'd been walking around the mall aimlessly for twenty minutes, waiting for your friend to arrive.

The others were busy and you didn't want to try on clothes alone. You knew today was Susan's day off, but you were still a little pissed at her and didn't want to have girl time with her just yet. The only other one available had been Susan and she agreed to meet you after lunch. Well, you ate alone in the food court, treated yourself to a bit of ice cream since you were early enough, got hit on by a group of guys that had you scurry far away from the food court like it was infested, and just killed time browsing stores.

The small bag of body lotion from Bath and Body Works swayed as you turned to look up and down the floor. Of all your friends, Susan was the most punctual. She was just the type of person to not leave you waiting. When Susan made plans, she stuck to them. So, you were confused why you stood alone in front of Macy's after twenty minutes.

She sounded sorry, at least, when she responded. Tone low and apologetic, she sighed. "Sorry. I didn't have time to call you. A coworker didn't show up for their shift and I got called in. It's been hectic for the past two hours, but I'm glad you called!"

You let out a sigh of your own, shifting your weight to one leg. You couldn't be mad at Susan. "It's fine."

"I can come after work if you want, but it wouldn't be until seven."

You pulled your phone away from your ear, the white font made you bite your cheek. It was half-past one. You shook your head, not that she could see it. "No, it's fine. I'm already here. No big deal."

She sighed again and her momentary silence allowed you to hear the faint office buzz around her. You felt bad, knowing she felt bad for accidentally standing you up. "I have to go, but I'm really sorry."

You made sure to reassure her it was perfectly fine before exchanging goodbyes. Once the line clicked and you put your phone back in your coat pocket, you puffed your cheeks and let out a deep breath. Great. You had to use your taste in fashion to judge what to buy. Your eyes fell to your current outfit. It seemed normal enough, but you didn't want normal.

You took what Aaron said to heart. You wanted to wear something to leave Bryan in a state of awe, that'd leave him distraught he couldn't have you. And to spite Susan when you'd go on this date just to turn Bryan down again. You may be in a petty mood, but she was also in the wrong for trying to force this onto you. Bryan just happened to be collateral damage, but you'd still let him down gently.

You walked into the store, passing the accessories and handbags at the front. You weren't even being humble when you didn't trust your taste in fashion to wear something sexy. For one, your wardrobe was a clash of something your grandma would wear and that of someone forced into abstinence from the hours in the day wasted away in an office. That, and you weren't comfortable with clothes labeled for promiscuous or intimate occasions. It just made your skin crawl to have to stand in public, with possibly more skin exposed than you'd like, vulnerable to strangers' gazes.

Granted, Aaron said something pretty, not sexy. He could've meant sexy, which you interpreted, but you were more than fine if you found something a little more in your comfort zone. That, and you were in Macy's, you doubted you'd find anything jaw-dropping here, but the prices enticed you. If you would dress out of your comfort zone, you were going to do it on a budget. The only clothes you threw your money blindly at were the silk pajama sets you liked. It was starting to become a problem for your closet space, actually.

You held your head high. Your poor fashion taste wouldn't dampen your spirit. There were perks to shopping alone. For one, nobody would rush you or vice versa. You could comfortably go at your own pace. Maybe even explore other stores in the mall after this to go on a shopping spree. You came all this way, after all. No doubt you'd find something suitable if you took your time.

"Sure. Hit me with another sample."

Every fiber of your being tensed. You whipped your head to the familiar voice. There, in the perfume and cologne section, Aaron Hotchner leaned against the counter while the lady behind it pulled a card from its holder. He smiled charmingly at her, eyes trained to her every move.

"You'll love this one. It's called White Musk." She sprayed a small amount of cologne onto the card, to which he lowered his head a bit to get a good whiff.

Your heart raced. Of course, he was here. You seemed to run into him more recently than you had in your first month of him entering your life. It was like the universe was telling you something. What it was, you had no idea, but you wanted to go over and stand by his side. To see what would happen.

You faced forward and continued your march to women's clothing. Yeah, no, you wouldn't drop your shopping trip to glue yourself to him. You were stronger than that. Aaron had no control over you from there, so you'd keep your distance. As long as he didn't notice you, you were safe from falling into his clutches.

Deep in the lines of clothes, whatever caught your eye first would have your undivided attention. And like a little kid, you happened to be drawn to the prettiest colors. You weaved your way to a dark blue dress, chanting "ooh" in your head like a caveman discovering fire. The excitement died a little as you got a good look at it. It was severely low cut and backless. Your nose wrinkled slightly and you shook your head. Seductive, but not your comfort level. Maybe not this one.

You browsed through a few clothes racks, your search mainly diverted to the clearance racks. A few tops and dresses were draped over your arm. Even if they weren't for the date, in the end, you didn't mind a few new clothes for a discount. You made your way through those racks, taking anything that pleased you. Your arm held a good amount of clothes as you moved past the clearance rack to other dresses. You were a bit excited about possible new additions to your wardrobe.

Touching the hangar for a cute summer dress, you glanced up when Aaron leaned against the clothing rack with one arm. He gave you his charming smile as his eyes took in your outfit. Your heart leaped into your throat, not used to being the subject of his attention, no matter how fake you knew the smile to be.

"So, are you buying clothes for your date?"

"Maybe." You brushed past him to another rack, which he promptly leaned against as well.

"You know, you should consider this one." You watched him slip his hand to the inside of his coat, procuring and proudly holding up lacy red lingerie. An embarrassed sound escaped you, grabbing it from his hands and stuffing it back into his coat before your eyes flitted around the store. You hoped nobody saw him hold it up to you.

"Did you seriously go to the lingerie section to get this to me?" You hissed, heat blossomed across your face. "When were you into lingerie?"

He scoffed and pulled the lacy piece out of his coat, tossing it onto the rack. You hurried to another clothing rack and he followed you. "I'm not above a lady wanting to show her figure. In fact, I'd make sure to show my appreciation for her effort."

"Maybe offer it to the perfume girl you were talking to."

He smirked. "Ah, so that was you watching me." You frowned, but couldn't deny his claim. His eyes fell to a black turtleneck beside him. "How about this?"

"That?" You furrowed your brow. He did say pretty, but you didn't think the turtleneck would fit into your mental criteria for this date. It seemed fairly sophisticated.

"Yeah. Problem?"

You shook your head. He placed the top on your pile. Imagine your surprise as he eventually led you around, seemingly picking whatever happened to catch his eye first and tossed it onto your pile. To his credit, he had good finds that would've taken you longer to find, given how you were sharply grading the clothing's worth but he sped through them.

There was a set of changing rooms nearby that you both eventually ended at. He plopped himself onto the sofa that faced the hall of stall doors. When you didn't move, he looked up at you with a raised brow. A look you mimicked.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"What's it look like?" He relaxed into the cushion, spreading his legs out as his arms stretched on the back of it. "I want to see what you pick."

As much as you told yourself this was supposed to be a solo shopping trip--with Susan, if not for her work--you couldn't argue with him when he looked like that. His body looked inviting and the cocky little head tilt told you he knew what you were thinking, followed by the slight further spread of his legs. You frowned but turned and walked into one of the stalls. He would not get you to act on your thoughts this time, not in public. You wouldn't give him what he wanted, to fluster you.

The pile of clothes you hung up bulged off of the wall. You made sure the door was locked behind you, just in case he got any funny ideas, and stripped your coat and top off, setting them onto the mini bench built in front of the mirror, where you'd already set down your bag of lotions. Your eyes flicked to your figure in the mirror before you grabbed the topmost hanger with a striped shirt. You pulled it down and looked at yourself in the mirror. Horizontal stripes of orange, blue, and white flattered your figure, but you didn't like how deep the v-cut went and the sleeves were too tight. Off. Next one.

You went through several tops and dresses, most of your pile done and finished before you settled on a select few. Three tops to keep, one from the clearance rack and the other two picked by Aaron , and a dress also picked by Aaron . The dress, you thought over, happened to suit your tastes nicely. Classy, long-sleeved, with a sheer back where the zipper laid. It seemed seductive enough if you played it up, but overall it left little to the imagination with your figure. You were almost afraid to look at the price tag from how beautiful it was, but the price wasn't extreme. Still pricey, but worth it.

Dress unzipped, you opened the stall door and brought out the clothes you didn't want, and put them on the clothing rack beside the stall. You kept your back to your stall to not expose yourself and looked over at Aaron . Hoping to have him zip you up, rather than struggle another 5 minutes to get it up.

Aaron had his head resting comfortably on the back of the sofa, chin tilted far back and exposing his neck as he flicked his hand in a lazy wave to passing women. They'd all smile in return with a flirty giggle. The way he spread on the sofa and seemed so casual garnered attention, especially when he both carried himself and looked like a Hollywood star. A few had been with boyfriends, who wrapped their arms around their shoulders and glared at Aaron but that only spurred his cocky smile all the more. You turned to go back into the stall just as he lowered his head to face you.

"Hey," he snickered when the door closed. "Come back out here. You want to show me what you're wearing?"

You peeked your head out the door, earning another laugh from him. "I don't have it zipped."

He dropped his elbows to his knees and leaned forward. "Are you inviting me back there to help you?"

You didn't answer. He still got up and made his way to your stall at the very end of the short hall. You ducked inside as he pushed the stall door open more for himself and came in. The door closed behind him and, without turning away from you, he reached behind him and locked it. You looked up at him but his gaze fell onto the mirror behind you, giving him a good view of your bra and exposed back from the dress.

He closed the distance between you, reaching behind you. Two large hands palmed at your ass and you gasped into his chest. You looked up at him ready to remind him how thin the walls were here.

"Relax, sweetheart. I'll get to it." He gave one good squeeze before he reached for the zipper. You kept your eyes on his face while he pulled it up tantalizingly slowly, his gaze locked onto the view provided to him from the mirror. When the zipper came up no more, he grabbed your waist and turned you around. "I think you look good."

You looked at yourself in the mirror, specifically the parts where Aaron started to touch you. The way his hands curved with your hips, his chin that he placed on your shoulder to also look. Only, he looked at your eyes with a cocky smirk. He knew just where your mind had drifted. The dress concerned you no longer. You liked that he liked it on you. You also knew he liked the part that came after helping you into it.

His lips ghosted over your ear. "What are you thinking about?" A redundant question on his part. You knew he knew.

You forced a scowl, less intimidating than you wanted it to be, given you didn't have any anger in you. You were too preoccupied with the growing warmth in your belly. "Nothing you need to know about."

"Doll, in my hands, I already know everything you're thinking of." He pulled your rear against him. The bulge in his pants made you shiver. Voice no more than a low mutter, it reverberated your ear. "And I'm gonna fuck you. Right here."

"We can't-"

"We'll play a little game. You keep quiet and I might make this quick." He slowly unzipped the back of the dress, biting at your ear. "If you make any noise, I won't be able to help myself. And we could be here for a long time."

"Aaron , I-" Your breath hitched as he slipped his hand through the open back of the dress, sliding his hand over the curve of your ass and thigh, up to the junction between your thighs. He only traced his fingers over the hem of your underwear, a featherlight touch to your clothed cunt. You wanted to feel more. "I don't think I can."

His breathy chuckle into your ear filled your stomach with butterflies. "If you don't want us to get caught, you'll have to be."

He pushed your back gently until you placed your hands on the bench. Sliding his hands over your back, shoulder, and down your arm, he pushed the dress off of your shoulders until it pooled around your wrists. The rest of the dress pooled down the bench and around your ankles. You looked at yourself in the mirror, at the swell of your breasts. The mounds fought gravity in your bra, cupped to your chest, but Aaron worked to undo the clasps and push it down to your wrists with the dress and free your breasts.

Your breaths came out uneven. In the mirror, you watched at an angle where he cupped your breasts in his hands and squeezed. The ring on his index finger trailed a cool path over your nipple. He leaned over you, keeping you down, but pulled your breasts towards him and arched your back. You bit your lip. His hands looked so lovely on you like that. Veins protruded from his hands. A silver watch on his left wrist slid cooly against your skin.

You muttered his name softly, head lolling onto his shoulder as his hand slid down to your underwear. His middle finger brushed a stripe through the material, light as a feather, and your breath caught in your throat. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at the flesh.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Nice and quiet."

He moved his hand to the top of your panties, pushing his hand past the hem. The moment the rough pads of his fingers spread your lower lips and touched your clit, you jolted. A sharp exhale slipped out of you. He gave you a punishingly slow stroke to your clit.

"No noises." He circled his fingers over you, applying more pressure. Your back arched more, head dug into his shoulder. "Do you want someone to hear you?"

"No," you sighed, gaze locked onto the mirror.

His free hand cupped your breast, ring brushing over your nipple. He pinched it between two fingers and lightly twisted as two fingers pushed into your cunt. Despite you biting down your lip, you couldn't fully suppress a breathless gasp. He groped your breast in sync to the pump of his fingers in you.

Your hips bucked onto his hand, electricity coursing through your veins. Attention had been generously provided by the rough pad of his thumb on your clit in mesmerizing circles. Each buck of your hips, your voice grew. From soft mewls to whispery moans, your face scrunched in concentration to hold your tongue but instincts overrode rationality. You had to be vocal, like the sound added to the experience.

Rationality had gone out the door. If someone were to walk by, they'd hear your soft sounds and the wetness of your cunt taking his fingers in stride.

"Can't seem to follow an order." He stopped groping your breast just for his large hand to clasp around your throat, but he didn't squeeze. His lips brushed against your ear, your eyes locked onto his through the mirror. "It's like you want to be found. Want people to see you getting fucked by my hand. You want that?"

You couldn't fully say you didn't.

"You want some poor stranger to see me fuck you until you can't stand?" He smiled.

"I-ah." Not one proper sentence could come out of your mouth. He curled his fingers into you, scissored your cunt, and put a third finger in. It filled you up, stimulated you.

You could feel the tight coil in your stomach. It twisted into a knot, pulling a higher pitched moan from you. One that was stopped by a tight squeeze to your throat. Aaron let up right after and you coughed, but he used the opening to put two fingers into your mouth. Buried down to the knuckle, you gagged, your tongue swirling over them. The cool touch of his ring brushed over your bottom lip.

When your eyes flickered to his own in the mirror, he narrowed his gaze. "You want to be my good girl, right?" You nodded as best as you could in his hold. With a smirk, he pinched your clit and laughed quietly to himself as your whine was blocked by his fingers. "Then, I suggest you try to be quieter. Don't enjoy this too much."

You gave a muffled affirmative around his fingers. Drool pooled out the sides of your mouth and along his knuckles. Pleased, he pumped his fingers vigorously into you. Your eyes bugged out of your head, then fluttered shut as your mouth fell open, completely losing all thought. All you could do was feel; feel the way he curled his fingers, the way the rough pads of his fingers rubbed your walls, feel the way his words vibrated against your skin.

His warm breath fanned the stray hairs around your ear. "That's it. That's my girl."

Drool dribbled down your chin onto your collarbone. Your hands moved from the bench to either side of the mirror, the space claimed by your knee. The opening allowed him to feel you more deeply and you met each thrust of his hand with one of your own. Before long, your mouth completely slackened as short whines escaped you and your walls squeezed around his fingers.

His teeth grazed your ear as he smiled triumphantly. "Ha, that didn't take long."

He allowed you a small moment to catch your breath, but you knew it wasn't over. This was just the beginning. Legs shaking, you didn't miss the way he pulled his hand out and wiped your juices onto your thigh. You all but leaned back into him while he pulled his hand out of your mouth, wiping your drool onto your stomach.

He guided your hands off the wall and hooked your thumbs into your panties. "Off. Now."

Numbly, you nodded and complied. It didn't take much for you to do what he said. With a voice soft as his, the slight edge still compelled you to do anything and everything he asked. You let them fall to your ankles, stepping both out of them and the discarded dress. You were completely naked, eyes locked onto your already heaving chest, and the way Aaron tilted his head followed by the sound of a belt coming undone.

When you heard the zipper open and he grunted, one rough hand fell to your waist to push you away slightly to give him room. He held you there, with your one knee still on the bench. The squeeze to your waist warned you to hold your tongue. Regardless, the tip of his cock slipped into you with over breathy whine coming from you, sensitive to the touch.

"We're gonna need to fix that," he said. You paid no mind as he leaned around you to grab your crumpled shirt, just for him to ball it up and hold it to your face. "Open."

You furrowed your brows, walls fluttering around his cock. "I do not need to be gagged. I can handle this."

No, you very much needed it. The both of you knew once he started you would announce it to the whole mall that Aaron Hotchner was fucking you into the next life in a cramped fitting room. Nothing in your mind could withhold the moans he could coax out of you, even if he told you to be quiet. With Aaron in control, he had to be the one to keep you quiet, even if that meant gagging you with your own shirt.

So, as he stayed in the same position, you relented with a slack jaw. He wasn't exactly gentle in stuffing your mouth with the fabric and you lurched a bit, but otherwise, your sounds were muffled enough. He could be satisfied with this.

"Funny. I'd never thought what it'd be like to fuck you with a gag." His eyes found yours in the mirror and he smirked at the sight of your shirt hanging out of it. "A little improvisation, but I like it."

You didn't get time to roll your eyes. He placed both hands on your waist and thrust once with force. All that came out of you was a muffled moan, your face scrunched from the shocking pleasure.

"Still hear ya but," he patted your ass, "you said you could handle it."

He began a gradual pace of thrusts into you. Your hands fell back to the wall, nails scratching down along it. His body pushed into yours, the both of you rocking slowly. You screwed your eyes shut the moment he decided to get rough.

He pulled out until only the tip remained before he slammed back into you. You pushed hard against the wall to keep from falling into it. The loud moan from the back of your throat muffled into the makeshift gag.

Aaron tsked. "Doesn't sound like you're handling it all too well."

No, you weren't, but you'd try. Your mind had become foggy from the rough thrusts of his hips into yours, but you forced the words "shut up" forward, both towards him and yourself. It was muffled, of course, but it didn't stop you from muttering it behind the shirt repeatedly. Like he knew what you were saying, he snickered quietly to himself, spurred on to take you beyond your limit.

Goosebumps crawled along your skin. They blanketed your body with the blend of sweat from how he pressed himself to your back. His clothes crumpled and rustled against your naked skin. The coarse fabric of his coat scratched your back and his belt buckle slapped at your ass.

It was too much. You were stimulated from every corner. He slipped one hand down to your clit and toyed with it, rubbing in circles that matched his brutal pace. Your muffled "shut up" had turned to a half-hearted "shuff" with your voice raised an octave.

The knotted coil returned, tightening in your stomach with each thrust, with each rough circle to your clit. Your head fell forward limply, legs trembling, and you came around his cock. His head fell to your shoulder with a grunt, rocking your whole body unruly to his own beat.

Your walls clenched around him, fluttering violently from overstimulation. You were sensitive, but oh so responsive to his thrusts. Jolting and writhing under his hold with each thrust, a whine crawled up your throat and buried itself in your shirt.

Aaron thrived best when you were at your limit. He relished the feeling of your cunt swallowing his cock and squeezing him for what he was worth. He grunted, his pace grown reckless and sloppy.

Your mouth was no longer filled with dry polyester. All the drool gathered by your shirt was absorbed. Instead, it felt like your mouth was dry from the inability to close while simultaneously your tongue darted against the soggy fabric. You bit down hard on your shirt while Aaron lost his cool behind you.

His breaths were jagged, much like his thrusts. He grunted lowly, his chest rumbling against your back. He didn't let up, wanting to keep you on edge until the very end, he rubbed your clit faster. You both came together, with your whiny moan muffled and his guttural moan buried into your shoulder that he bit into.

Your cunt filled with warmth as you squeezed around him and milked him for all he was worth. He shuddered into you. He continued to fuck into you until he was completely spent before he took his teeth off of your shoulder.

Aaron turned you both around and flopped onto the bench with you on his lap, his cock still in you. He leaned against the mirror while you leaned against him. You stared at the door and the thought flicked through your mind if someone happened to walk in on your position. They couldn't, given the locked door, but you imagined how your nude self with your legs on either side of Aaron 's looked from an outside perspective. Your cunt fluttered.

You pulled the shirt out of your mouth with a grimace at the dark splotch on the side as you held it up to its full height. You just balled it up and tossed it down to the side with the dress.

Aaron wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder. He looked into your eyes as your head fell back. "Not bad, but you totally wanted to be found out, didn't you?"

You shook your head weakly, brows furrowed. "No. I didn't even-"

"Come on," he teased. "Admit it. You were turned on by the idea. I don't doubt that's why you came faster than usual."

"Aaron ." You sighed. Your mind couldn't handle conversation right now.

"Alright." He snickered. "I won't pry, but we could definitely do this again." He hummed thoughtfully. "Another time, of course. I have things to do."

"Won't spare another moment for another round?" Your tone came out mocking.

He simply smiled. "With that attitude, I might reconsider."

You closed your eyes. As enticed as you were, never mind the fact your legs shook with little aftershocks, you shouldn't tempt him any further. It was bad enough you just fucked here as you did. If you weren't noticed by someone before, you were bound to be from making too much noise in here for an unprecedented amount of time. If anyone had come to any of these stalls to try on clothes, they'd know right away two crazy idiots were getting it on with no regard for others.

"Ugh." Your head fell forward into your hands. Voice muffled by your palms, you said, "I can't believe I let this happen."

"That's what happens when you have a weak resolve." His hand gently patted your stomach twice. "Alright. Up. Like I said, I got places to be."

Like any other order he gave, you obeyed without much of a fight, but it didn't stop you from groaning in displeasure. Your legs wobbled as you stood and you placed a hand on Aaron 's shoulder to help steady yourself. He watched you dress yourself and place the dress on a hanger before you gathered up all your belongings.

His eyes fell to the wet spot on your shirt for a moment. He didn't mention it. "So, is this the dress for the date?"

You shrugged. "I don't have the energy to look for something else. Yeah." You let him tuck himself into his pants and buckle up before you unlatched the door and peeked out. With the coast clear, you stepped out, Aaron hot on your heels. "Now, I just want to go home, have a bath, and take a nap."

You received a grunt in reply. "Whatever floats your boat."

Strategically, you had held your bag of lotions and the clothes to the wet spot on your shirt. Your coat wasn't designed to close and the spot wasn't hidden under the layer. You couldn't see it, but you assumed you did the job of covering it up well enough. As Aaron followed you up to the counter, however, you mildly panicked in line.

You set the clothes on the counter, prayed nobody would notice your spot if you leaned against the counter at an angle, but Aaron unexpectedly helped you. He had just been standing there, so you didn't think he'd do anything, even when he took his coat off, but he thrust it in front of you and asked you to hold it. At first, you just blinked at him, a bit confused and insulted to be asked that, but as he pressed it against your spot, you understood what he intended. You took it gratefully and held it dutifully while he chatted up the cashier.

And he somehow charmed his way into a discount. For clothes you were already getting at a good price, he lessened the pay for you. You almost thought he'd pay for you as well from how he acted, but that hope was squashed when he reached into your purse and pulled out your credit card. Fair enough.

The two of you walked out of the store together, with Aaron back in his coat and you holding your bags in front of your shirt. You made a detour to the restrooms that he followed you to, where you cleaned yourself up a bit. Geez, your hair was obviously in a just-got-fucked style and your skin glossed from all the sweat you'd gathered. It was a sight and you then connected the dots to some of the stares you received walking out of the store.

Once you were out of the restroom, however, Aaron was nowhere to be found. You left him leaning against the wall, but you didn't see his spiky head anywhere. At the vibration in your purse, you maneuvered the bags to one side and pulled out your phone. It was a message from Aaron . One that your brow twitched at.

"Remember me on your date tomorrow."

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch hotchner smut

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blythings · 3 months

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HARD TO LOVE | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.) — summary: you want all of me, i can't give that much, so don't fall too hard. — tags: exes-to-lovers, named oc, attempts at humour, mentions of other celebrities. —notes: shorter chapter today since the next chapter will mostly be written! also requests are now open icymi~ as always, comment or send me a msg if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk what you think 💞

← series masterlist | send me an ask →

liked by xavierdolan, sabrinacarpenter and others alexisnakamura can you reach me 📞🗣 no! 🙅‍♀️🚫 you can't! ☀️✨😡 user THE QUEEN IS BACK user you better have written a new movie during your social media break or ill cry mari.arai your photographer is 👍 user the lorde reference? timeless user 🔥

liked by user, user and others Cosmopolitan #Bottoms is already a frontrunner for the funniest movie of the year. We sat down with auteur Alexis Nakamura and chatted through all the things including her smash hit comedy, why she pledges allegiance to Mari Arai and Nicholas Galitzine, and what topics she wants to tackle next. user ali can't do one interview without mentioning nick and mari and i respect that user mentioning rachel zegler in a list of actors she wants to work with but not tom.... i see ↪ user omg lmao she's never mentioning tom ever again, not after how weird everyone acted about all of that ↪ user fr like... is it that weird that they're exes? it seems like their circles overlapped when they were both studying in nyc ↪ user i think they were seen at the same party too 👀 ↪ user WHERE ↪ user check @/tomandalexis on ig!! i think it was at mari's birthday party

liked by user, user and others tomandalexis tom and alexis spotted at mari arai's birthday party last night! user why was tom invited? ↪ user i think they were all friends back in college so even if he wasn't directly invited he could've been a plus one user the tomalexis nation feasting on crumbs 😔 ↪ user ALL WE WANTED WAS A PHOTO?? JUST ONE PHOTO user no but they're actually both so hot, i want them back together ↪ user or at least have him star in one of her movies ↪ user her movies are bad tho, tom should stay away ↪ user you clearly have shit taste

#tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x oc #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #fic: i wish you would #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow fanfiction #social media au #tbosas #tom blyth social media au

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lapis-lights · 1 year

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Chapter 01 | Choke Yourself to Sleep

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Choke by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Content Warnings: Heavy Injuries, Enemies Phase, High Tensions, Two Emotionally Constipated Characters, They Get Better Towards The End

Word Count: 11k

Author's Notes: First chapter of the Falling From Grace series! I'm excited for you guys to see what's coming up :DDDD

I wanted a good ol' fashioned enemies to lovers that dealt with two characters who actually have a dislike for each other and honestly, the longer I outlined the events I wanted to happen and estimated the word count, the more I was like "Oh shit this needs to be like a SERIES". So here we are at chapter 1. Lmk what you guys think in the comments if you'd like! My ask box is also open if you'd like to send in something through there too ^^

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

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Ao3

Summary: Having freshly escaped from an elaborately disguised company, you show up on the doorstep of your enemy's dingy motel room. Tensions roll high as you try to recuperate all while trying not to kill each other until a secret lets loose and his perception of you shatters into a million pieces.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"Now shut your dirty mouth. If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die.

And that would be just fine, and what a lovely time that it would surely be. So bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The air is freezing, but your body feels like it's on fire.

In a cruel juxtaposition to the chilly weather and violent wind that nipped at your skin, pain is all you know, licking flames up from a twisted ankle and into your weary muscles. Your shoulder burns, tugged on by the weapons and equipment that weigh you down but are vital for survival nonetheless. One of your joints is probably dislocated and would need an amputation or something drastic with your luck.

You’re sure you must look a sight, streaked with dirt and oozing blood from more than one place on your body. The bruises you’ve been so graciously granted are probably turning purple by now, and you wince knowing that this wouldn’t be something you could try and joke your way out of at a hospital.

Hence, your second, more unfortunate, option.

You’ve been walking all night since you escaped after weighing the options in your mind. Actually, it’s less walking and more hobbling as fast as you can.

The trees are bare all around you, bordering a stretch of a lonely dirt road that nobody has driven through since you set foot on it. Not even given the chance to hitchhike, you consider that just laying down and dying alone of starvation might be the easier option.

Every part of you hurts, and you think that you might die anyway from your wounds. Your breaths have become shallow and hitched, your body sore from the excruciating limits you've been pushing it to. However, that all didn't matter when it came to survival. You've lived through worse before–surely something like this couldn't kill you.

The bare forest breaks and you almost cry at the sight of your destination.

It’s a rugged little motel hidden away in the recesses of the forest, often providing shelter to hunters who were taking advantage of the seasons. However, the person you're looking for is not a hunter.

Not of animals, at least.

It’s the kind of motel that doesn’t have any stories and the rooms are all lined up along one long stretch of building bordered by rotting wooden rails. It’s not a sight to behold, but it was somewhere safe to some capacity. Either you’d die here or live to see another day.

You trip up the wooden steps, muffling a cry of pain into your palm before counting down the rooms and finding the one you need. Your knock probably sounds more like a bang and you know that this is probably the stupidest plan you’ve ever had yet. Maybe you had the right idea when you were considering just dying on the side of the road like an unfortunate piece of roadkill.

However, much to your surprise, the door swings open, and tired blue eyes meet yours.

"(Y/n)?" your name rolls off his tongue like venom being spat out. "What the fuck?"

He sounds good–really good–so you must be incredibly delirious. Whether it's from the blood loss, the adrenaline, or the sleep deprivation is a toss in the air.

"Hey," you manage a shaky smile and collapse.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you come to, the first thing you hear is the creak of old wood, presumably from the aged floorboards.

You're sure this motel doesn't have the funding to renovate often, judging by the run-down state it was in when you first arrived. Already, you feel better physically than the last time you had been conscious–but you were still incredibly sore–though the same couldn’t be said mentally. If you weren’t so bent on staying alive, you’d roll over and sleep yourself to death.

Roughly blinking open your eyes faintly, you’re met with an old popcorn ceiling that has more than one questionable stain on it. Gross.

“You know,” a voice intrudes the confused fog of your brain as your thoughts abruptly try and catch up, “if you’re trying to kill someone, showing up half-dead on their doorstep isn’t really the way to go.”

Panic blossoms in your chest as you open your eyes all the way, fully wide awake now. You tug your body upward and a jolt of pain spreads through your body as you take in the dusty motel room you’ve cursed yourself to be trapped in. You've been laid down on an old couch whose covering was printed with the abhorrent floral pattern that's only found in ancient grandmother households and the fabric scratches uncomfortably on your sensitive skin.

It’s not hard to find the source of the voice.

Leon's already watching you from a chair positioned on the other side of the room at a small desk, fringe falling over his eye as his handgun is securely held. You have no doubt that the safety is probably already off.

"You have five minutes," he demands, not kidding around like when you've traded playground insults. "I want an explanation."

"Fair enough," you wince.

You and Leon have a rocky history of going for each other’s throats on field missions and nearly killing each other over a grudge that began years ago. He works in the D.S.O., an infamous division in the US government for only the best and most elite members of the agency. Leon Kennedy, revered for his survival in Raccoon City and preceding successful missions afterward, is one of–if not the–best of the best.

You’d been on contract with a company that was researching bioweapons independently and investigating Umbrella through rather illegal matters. The J.I.E., or Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists, had dedicated their purpose to bringing people like those who advocated for Umbrella to be rightfully exposed. Your involvement with the company was surprisingly unintentional where you’d been admitted as an intern for work experience before they offered you training for fieldwork and higher pay.

Regrettably, you had agreed.

Oftentimes, you’d be dispatched to the same locations that the government was looking into. It was only a matter of time before your stealth mission failed and you were pitted face-to-face with Leon.

Your first encounter was rough, as your only objective was to escape alive. It was understandable why he was considered the best agent as his aim was spot on, his attacks swift and incredibly calculated. You managed to leave with a hair’s breadth away from death.

Every preceding time you met with him, it began an all-out battle that staved mostly off of that grudge–you wanting revenge for him nearly ending your life and for him, wanting to patch up his bruised ego from letting an easy target slip through his fingers.

It was a miracle Leon didn’t just shoot you in the head when you went unconscious, though he probably only kept you alive for the potential intel you could provide.

“There was a conflict of interest is all,” you say vaguely, and he’s obviously unsatisfied with your response. “There’s not much more to it.”

“The J.I.E. finally dump your ass?”

“I left, thank you very much.”

"Bullshit," Leon snaps. "You have three minutes left to tell me why you're really here."

"I can't visit my favorite archenemy?" You huff, then wince when a new sharp pain blossoms in your shoulder and races down your arm before soothing to a burn. "Son of a bitch."

Leon exaggerates a snicker and you want to beat the sarcastic smile off his stupid expression. "Your dumbass managed to dislocate your shoulder and twist your ankle. Hope you weren't planning on going into any Olympic sports."

"My dreams are crushed," you deadpan. "Might as well put me down like a racehorse with a broken leg."

"I almost did." His gaze darkens and then fixates on you again. "Speaking of which?"

You go silent, staring back at him with the blankest expression you can muster. All he was trying to do was get under your skin to get whatever answers he wanted from you before ending your life, burying you in the woods, and checking out of the motel with a cute little innocent smile. Leon's not the type to commit a felony without a valid reason, but your little schoolyard rivalry was probably a good enough purpose for him.

You were going to get out of here alive somehow. You just didn't have a coherent plan for it yet. You'd rather die than admit to Leon of all people what really happened at the J.I.E. before you had excused yourself–though, excused was an extreme understatement.

He probably senses that you weren't going to answer his questions before huffing and standing. His hands work roughly on his signature handgun, and it clicks sharply in the air as he disappears around a corner. You wouldn't be too surprised if he re-appeared with a loaded magnum ready to play bad cop interrogating you.

At this rate, you'd accept him blowing your brains out.

The sudden sound of rushing faucet water running reaches your ears and it jars you enough out of your tense stupor. Silently, you wonder what in the world he could be doing. Maybe Leon needed a refresher before committing murder right in the middle of his motel room, though you suspect that he's probably not the best at cleaning up a crime scene. Would he be fully pardoned if he was found guilty?

Actually, thinking about it, he could come up with a good enough cover story as to why a dead body was hidden under his floorboards. That was some Edgar Allen Poe shit.

Footsteps have you looking back up to see him with a plastic cup of water in one hand and something held securely in his other that you couldn't see. Leon places the cup of water on the end table that stands right by the armrest of the couch you're leaning against.

Something clinks onto the wooden surface and you glance over to find two white pills sitting innocently next to the cup.

You raise an eyebrow at him as he retreats, sitting on a creaking bed whilst grabbing a rifle to start polishing as if you weren't someone who's tried to kill him on multiple occasions.

"Cyanide?" You guess, poking at one of the pills and losing your appetite more than you already had. "You're getting lazy, Kennedy."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs dismissively. You didn't know it was possible for him to piss you off more than he already has. "It's painkillers."

"You should take them then since you're being such a pain in the-"

"I really don't care if you die on the couch," he interrupts and sends a dangerous glare your way. "I don't want to hear anything from you unless it's about why you're here. Capiche?"

You search his gaze trying to find any fault in his words, yet come up with none. A quiet sense of annoyance and rage boils in your chest as you slump down into the cushions of the couch. "Aye aye, cap'n."

He hums non-committedly before remarking mindlessly, "Good girl."

You wish he would step on a landmine.

Because you have nothing better to do, you snatch up the pills and choke them down with the water. Truthfully, you didn't realize how parched you were until the touch of liquid hit your dried-out throat, and you hope the bastard isn't gaining any satisfaction from your reluctant compliance.

You note that there's dried blood still on your clothes and only the obvious wounds that were exposed have been cleaned up. It was some sort of cold comfort knowing that he didn't try anything shady while you were knocked out.

As you settle into the couch again and close your eyes, you realize one thing before sleep reclaims you.

Your shoulder definitely didn't feel dislocated nor did it step over the intense soreness that came after the initial painful sting the entire time you'd been awake. Surely Leon didn't set it back once he noticed, right?

He wouldn't.

The painkillers were probably the farthest his kindness reached with you. He probably thought it was dishonorable to kill you when you were injured or something stupid. He'd want a fight before getting the satisfaction of having your blood smeared all over his hands.

That must be it. It had to be.

You're conflicted as one excuse gets blocked by another, but none of it can change the fact that you hate him. When you get out of here, you'd definitely owe him a favor on your end, but after that, you'd go right back to your old ways trying to get the edge on each other on sight.

As you fall asleep, you decide that nothing will change in the end. You'll make sure of it.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Images dance behind your eyelids, violent in every way you could think of.

It's filled with viruses and experiments and monsters larger than life. You see people, you can hear them screaming in anguish and immense pain. Small children cling to your legs, sobbing and crying for their parents and for you to do something to help. You don't even get the chance to formulate a plan before they're harshly turned into nothing but rotting flesh and guttural sounds being pulled from their dead throats.

You reach out desperately for them but they disappear in wisps from your fingertips. A sharp stab pierces your neck and you cry out, struggling against the undead that has latched its teeth into the supple muscle that lies in the junction at the base of your neck that slopes into your shoulder. Managing to gain momentum, you grasp it by the plaid shirt it was wearing and flip it over your shoulder. It slams to the invisible ground with a shriek.

The grip it had on you dissipates with the body of the undead into the black void, but the blood that flows from the wound in rivers is enough to make you lightheaded immediately. Before you can dwell on this fact too long, an invisible force pushes you to the ground, holding you down even as you aimlessly struggle as much as you can. It's a futile effort.

There's the sound of chains, of a knife being sharpened right before searing white-hot pain floods your backside.

A sound that couldn't even be classified as a scream tears from your throat. It's pain, it's burning alive, it's being bitten by a million fire ants at once, it's familiar-

You wake with a gasp, tears in your eyes and sweating as Leon immediately backs away from your reactive–and now very conscious– state.

It takes a moment for you to get your bearings and to realize where you are.

You're not in a lab or an arena or even in another virus-infected city–just a crappy motel in the middle of nowhere stuck with the last person you ever wanted to associate yourself with. Upon getting this fact straight, you force yourself to relax as you dry your face and stubbornly refuse to look at Leon who simply watches carefully for any other possible extremity you might commit.

You can feel the question on the tip of his tongue, just barely managing to restrain himself from inquiring about what the fuck just happened. You don't even know what time it is. You don’t think you really care to find out right now.

"Do you have night terrors often?" He asks but there's no care behind the question. You know all he wants is more information regarding you and what the J.I.E. was doing.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The response flies from your lips sharply, and you don't even bother to try to have the decency to pretend to be apologetic. Really, you don't feel like dealing with his bullshit after you've just woken up.

"Well, excuse me, princess," Leon huffs, shaking his head frustratedly as he recedes. "Here I am letting you bloody up my couch and you can't even let me know if frequent nightmares are another thing I should be concerned about."

"I'm fine," you insist as he brings out another cup of water and more painkillers just like he'd done the first time you woke up. This time, you take them without hesitation and wait for a minute to see if they'd kill you as swiftly as a poison pill would. Once you're in the clear, you ask, "What do you mean by 'another thing' you should be concerned about?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest without getting murdered," he frowns, sitting at the desk and folding his arms. "You know, I would've loved a vacation that didn't get interrupted again but you just had to show up, didn't you?"

"Interesting spot to vacation out to," you raise an eyebrow. "Any reason why?"

"Nice try. You'll have to be more subtle."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

"People say that about wallflowers trying to hook up with captains of football teams," Leon scoffs. "Not about spies trying to gather information on the opposing side."

For all you care, he could go die in a hole. You have more important things to worry about–namely your injuries and how fast you could recuperate from them so you could get out of here. Leon was decent enough to tell you that you had a twisted ankle and a dislocated shoulder he potentially set back into place, but there are wounds that he didn't even know about.

Along your upper back had been a particularly nasty gash, but it wasn't anything you weren't used to. You were more so concerned with the bullet grazes you'd caught while escaping the factory you'd been trapped in. J.I.E sports multiple talented sharpshooters so you'd consider yourself lucky to have been able to get out without a piece of metal lodged into your leg.

The big bad that they'd sent after you did more of a number on you than any group with some lousy firearms could possibly do. The memory causes you to wince.

“Do you have a first aid kit or something?” you ask, moving to get up and ignoring the wave of pain that crashes into you violently, it nearly leaves you breathless.

“Whoa, hey–wait,” Leon immediately gets up to try and push you back down. You smack his hand away stubbornly. “Alright, fuck you too, then.”

“I need to get the injuries on my back and I’d prefer doing it on my own,” you ignore him, standing shakily and almost stumbling upon the first step. “Also I probably stink so I hope you don’t mind if I use your cheap motel shower.”

“You’re not going to get far trying to do it by yourself,” Leon protests, and irritation pricks your skin.

“I’ve made it this far on my own. I can do it.”

You know your unmoving insistence isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with because the trait is reflected right back at him. Too many times were you caught in crossfires trying to get at each other despite the obvious obstacles and the inconvenience of it all. Usually, Leon can keep his composure on the battlefield, juggling carrying out his assigned mission and preventing you from completing yours, however, there are times you were able to push him over the edge and gain the advantage.

His jaw tenses as he considers you. It’s glaringly obvious you’re not as okay as you’re trying to pass off, but in all seriousness, you need to tend to yourself. You both knew that you’d never trust him in such a vulnerable environment, and even less so showing him exactly where all your current weak spots were. The only option left really was to let you do your best while he played standby.

“At least let me help you to the bathroom,” he relents finally. “If you’re going to slip and die, do it where I can’t see.”

Figuring that this is the best you were going to get with Leon, you accept the hand he outstretched and allow your weight to be shared with him. Because of his profession and the fit form he maintained, you’re sure that it was no issue for him.

Though, it didn’t help that you were completely disgusted upon having to have him in such close proximity. Actually, you think this is the first time the two of you have interacted like this that wasn’t in a violent way.

You half-expect him to dump you onto the bathroom floor, yet he allows you enough time to grip onto the doorframe and limp inside yourself.

“Kit is under the sink,” Leon says, turning away and wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Don’t die."

The door closes and you finally breathe out in relief at being alone.

Your reflection stares back at you in the bathroom mirror and you know you've definitely seen better days. Shadows hang beneath your eyes, probably the only purple on your body that wasn't a result of a blossoming bruise, and your hair was full of filth you didn't even want to get into. Really, the past few days haven't been the most successful.

You take a deep breath and shuffle your shirt off the best you can with one arm.

The shoulder that had been dislocated has dulled itself down into a mild burn instead of flooding with soreness with every waking moment as it had been before. Whatever painkillers Leon had gotten his hands on, they were hella fucking good since you'd only taken four so far–definitely better than the OTC pills you usually took periodically after missions. Your ankle fares better than it had been as well, but putting any weight on it was a no-go.

Jesus Christ, you hated this.

As you throw your dirtied shirt to the floor and start shimmying your pants down your thighs, you think resentfully about your weakened state. For fuck's sake, you were supposed to be stronger than this–you were supposed to be theoretically invincible because being anything less meant you weren’t good enough.

Really, being at Leon's was your own fault seeing as you'd hobbled here after weighing the equally horrible options before picking the lesser of the two evils, and while it wasn't at the forefront of your mind and definitely not your biggest concern at the moment, it still wasn't pleasant. That he even took you in was a miracle in itself and you intend to milk as much hospitality as you can get from him before leaving.

Finally, you wrench your shirt off and turn to see your backside in the mirror. You find that the gash on your upper back is bad and you wince at the state of it. It extends diagonally from your deltoid muscle downward to your trapezius, but what lacks in length is made up for by the alarming width of it.

You're definitely no looker with scar tissue knotting up your flesh and making rough patches of skin that surely would be anything but soft to the touch, but this has gotta be one of the worst ones. You'll live, of course, but it's nothing you'd be proudly parading around.

Noted: B.O.W.s tend to cut a little deep when they're attacking.

You start up the shower, deciding that you should start washing away the grime and dirt before tackling the scratches that have started to prick blood again.

The warm water is welcome, though it provides little comfort as the droplets sting the opened wounds. It's a relief to finally be able to feel some semblance of cleanliness as you poke around for the motel-provided shampoo, conditioner, and bar of soap. Dirt, blood, and gunpowder wash down the drain and you sigh in contentment, letting your mind wander as you work on washing yourself without putting strain on your shoulder and ankle.

Your need for shelter vastly eclipses the disdain you have for Leon, but you do have to admit that this was incredibly kind of him. His treatment of you right now is wildly different from practically all your other encounters where it's nothing but bullets, blood, and insults hurled at each other intended to hurt. You're used to the aggressive Leon who scowls every time he sees you, but definitely not this Leon who matches your witty comments and gives you painkillers without question every time you wake up.

It feels wrong.

It feels like at any moment, the barrel of a gun is going to be held to your temple as he forces his desired answers out of you. Leon never struck you as the type of person to be like that, which gives you somewhat of a relief, but it still puts you on edge. He's gotta have some ulterior motive for keeping you alive. The fact that you don't know why is the most concerning part.

Maybe you had answers of your own you needed to search for.

Once you had gotten yourself to a place that felt like tiny bugs weren't crawling all over your skin and the water had begun to clear after vigorously washing your hair over and over, you finally shut off the water and brace yourself to take care of your wounds. It’d be much easier now that you were free of all that grime and build-up.

You breathe a tired sigh and get to work, numbing yourself to the sting of antiseptic and focusing on wrapping your arms and legs with bandages in a familiar routine. Back at the J.I.E., the medics were adamant about teaching agents extensive medical techniques in case they found themselves stranded and unable to access proper care. Back then, it was obviously an excuse for them to do less work, but now you appreciate the rigorous training they’d put you through.

As for the cut on your back, you couldn’t necessarily reach it, though even you could tell it would need stitches. You definitely wouldn’t be able to do that on your own so you settle on rubbing a disinfectant gel on as much as you could before wrapping your upper torso in a long winding bandage. It would have to do for now.

Moving around as much as you have exhausted you and to be honest, you’d be more than happy to lie down and sleep on the cold linoleum floor, though you don’t think Leon would appreciate it as much.

Speaking of which, there was an alarming issue with clothing…

You grimace, looking at the ragged state of your former outfit, and cringe upon thinking about having to put it back on. You didn’t necessarily have time to pack before you fled the J.I.E.

A harsh knock scares you nearly out of your skin and you mentally curse Leon as his voice muffles from the other side of the door. “You doing alright?”

“Sure,” you answer back, frowning. Well…you’re as fine as you could be with two compromised joints and a dangerously large gash on your back. “I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna do with my clothes.”

There’s a heavy silence before Leon mumbles some unintelligible. You’re about to ask him what he said until he speaks before you get the chance to. “I’ll stop by the motel office. Pretty sure they had clothes up there for sale.”

“Okay.”

“Size?”

You tell him and you hear the sound of things being shuffled around before the front door slams shut. Immediately, you try the knob and huff upon the handle refusing to give which meant the fucker likely jammed it on the other side to lock you in. Smartass.

It felt like a lifetime before he returned, jiggling out whatever he had blocked the handle with and cracking open the door to put up the goods onto the counter. It was just a white t-shirt made of rough cotton, gray sweatpants, underwear, and a pair of thick socks but in your eyes, it was just as good as a ball gown made of exotic silk.

When you stumble out of the bathroom, Leon looks up from his place on the bed as you slowly make your way out.

For a second, neither of you speaks a word as he finally takes you in without all the dirt and crap you’ve been covered with for the past few days and you try to piece together why this was happening in the first place. This hospitality–this unnatural kindness–it had to be for something.

You tear your eyes away from him, making your way back over to the couch where Leon had set up one of the pillows and a thick blanket, which you spread out gratefully.

It’s really hard to hate him when he does things like this, but it’s easy to turn that into some type of annoyance to use against him. It was all too easy to find things to dislike about Leon, with the years you’ve watched him, you could nitpick his faults down to memory.

You settle down and the exhaustion hits you like a semi on the interstate.

Sleep anchors you, yet you remember your manners, managing to yawn and mumble out, “Thank you.”

The silence that follows is deafening and you almost think he didn’t hear you until he says, bordering on the softest tone you’ve ever heard him with yet, “Yeah, sure.”

And just because you have to remind him this doesn’t change anything in your dynamic, you quip, “You’re still a conniving bastard.”

“You know me so well,” Leon mutters unamused.

“Oh, go choke on a day-old cashew.”

“Hope you suffocate in your sleep.”

As you let yourself slip into unconsciousness, you think to yourself that it’s the same as it ever was. Somehow, it soothes you knowing that this aspect of your rivalry will never change. No amount of questionable tolerance from him could ever affect that, and you know you’d be quite content to turn the gun on him once you were back in good condition.

He was your enemy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Just the way it was supposed to be.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next time you wake up, Leon's already moving around the room restlessly.

You don't see it, but goddamn, could you hear it. The floor was not doing your already growing headache any favors and coupled with the occasional mumbles from Leon to himself, you think your brain might explode.

You squint, trying to figure out what has him in a frenzy before noticing that you're positioned close enough to the window that you can peek through the crack between the glass and the curtain if you stretch. One moment is all it took before your eyes widened because all that was outside was white. Vaguely, you remember something about snow being said on the news the morning you'd left the J.I.E. but never did the weatherman mention that it was going to be this bad.

Leon must've noticed you were awake because he immediately moved away and you can hear the faucet running just like the last time you were conscious.

You consider this as he comes around the corner and wordlessly hands the cup of water and pills off to you before going to stoke a fireplace you hadn't noticed before due to its inactivity. His silent disposition is off-putting at the very least as you drink and take your painkillers and watch him mess with the wood that fed the flames. The motel must be ages old if it was still relying on fire for some extra heat.

"We're blocked in," Leon says gruffly, not even sparing you a glance. "It's not going to stop for at least a day or two."

You can read what he means: the two of you were stuck together until the snow calmed down enough that you could survive on your own.

Joy. You're sure his resentment for the situation matches yours.

"Quality bonding time," you quip, shifting and wincing at the soreness that seems to encompass every muscle. "We can make friendship bracelets and sing kumbaya together by the fire."

He shoots you an unimpressed look, only to furrow his eyebrows when your stomach gives an intense growl that reverberates through your diaphragm. You flush, embarrassed for the impeccable timing and you try to play it off, looking away to watch the flurry of snow whipping violently outside.

You hear rustling before it falls into silence.

Then something solid hits your head softly and lands on the floor by the couch with a crinkle.

You swivel and look down to find a protein bar lying on the ground, obviously the chosen projectile your unfortunate savior had chosen. Shooting him the rudest glare you can muster, you lean over and take the snack while the annoyance starts simmering in your chest.

"Hope you can at least stomach that," Leon says passively.

"If I can't, I'll throw up on you."

"You really know how to show a guy a good time, don't you?"

"Only ones who can treat me right."

He puts his arms up as if surrendering, shaking his head. "If saving your life isn't treating you right, then you must have some pretty high standards."

"If I recall correctly, you've also tried to kill me multiple times." You roll your eyes while unwrapping your protein bar and biting into it. The taste manages to soothe the anger in your stomach as you eat and luckily, it was the type of bar that was meant to be filling so it left you somewhat satisfied.

"Hypocrite," he clicks his tongue and if your shoulder wasn't out of commission, you'd pull your gun out and shoot him in the leg to get even.

Well…if you had your gun.

"Where'd you put my weapons?" You ask curiously, balling up your now empty wrapper and tossing it into a nearby small trash can. "Those are kinda important to me."

"Very funny. I’m not looking forward to being shot or stabbed when this is supposed to be my vacation."

"Well, excuse me for trying to make small talk," you fold your arms and just your chin out. "Hope you're ready for an eventful few days getting the damn silent treatment."

The two of you stare at each other from across the room, both unmoving and equally stubborn. The only good thing that came out of this whole thing was that you've learned each other's body language well enough that you could practically read each other without saying any words. Granted, the words usually said were threats to kill each other.

Leon analyzes you and your determined silence before he sighs and shakes his head. "You have a good taste in firearms, at least."

"I really hope that's not how you try and flirt with every woman you meet."

"Believe me, you're the last person in the world I'd ever try to flirt with."

“Rude,” you scoff.

There’s something different in the atmosphere. You watch as Leon finishes messing with the fire and starts getting out supplies to clean out his guns. Not wishing to dwell on it and deciding you have nothing better to do, you return to watching the blinding snowstorm outside. Some part of your mind fears that the J.I.E. were looking for you even in this intense weather, but surely even they weren’t stupid enough to try and track you down in this whole mess.

Perhaps they presumed you were dead. They did send a whole bioweapon to end you, though if they were serious about it, it would have tracked you down and not stopped until it had crushed you itself.

You shudder, vaguely remembering the fight and running off of nothing but pure adrenaline while escaping. It was your last obstacle before you had managed to stumble out into the frigid air and start struggling to the motel.

You glance at Leon from the corner of your eye.

Truthfully, he wasn’t your first choice. There were multiple people you could have called to play getaway driver for you, but the potential of someone hijacking the signal and finding out about your plans was too high. It ran the risk of trading safety for comfort so that had definitely been off the board. Staying wasn’t an option either–not after what they revealed they were trying to do.

You’d located Leon’s location not long after the events in New York City with Glenn Arias. You don’t know the entire ins and outs of it, but he had suffered from a lot of blunt force trauma and as a result, had to be hospitalized for a few days. It wasn’t that hard to find his medical records in the doctor’s database, and furthermore, it was easy to then trace where he was planning on getting away.

Fortunately, it was near enough to the lab you were stationed but the walk was arduous. He was the only viable option.

“Do you always stare so openly?”

His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you blink before raising an eyebrow in a silent prompt.

“You’ve been giving me a side eye for the last minute or so,” he points out, cleaning out the barrels on one of his guns. “It’s kind of unsettling.”

“I thought you’d be used to a woman watching you,” you hum, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand. “Are you telling me that you don’t have as much game as you say you have?”

“It’s a little different with you.”

“Aw, are you saying I’m special?”

Leon’s lip pulls up in disdain and you have to resist the urge to laugh lest you pull a muscle or something. “Don’t get any ideas. God only knows what happens in that little fucked up brain of yours.”

“You wound me,” you simper mockingly. "I thought we had something good going."

"I worry for your past relationships if this is your definition of good."

He doesn't need to know that you've never put yourself out there after high school. The J.I.E. didn't leave any relationships to be had outside of the workforce and the people you'd worked with were far from interesting. Besides, you'd be putting them in danger if they were outside of your work sphere.

The last guy you'd given a chance only ended up with him knocking up another girl at a house party so your track record isn't anything to sneeze at either.

"Alright," A sigh escapes your lips as you shift your body so you can look him in the eyes and he stares back just as defiantly. "Let's make a deal."

He obviously doesn't like the ominous tone that’s used primarily when you’re about to say something to get underneath his skin. "What are you proposing?"

"It's simple," you smile. "As long as we're stuck together, we don't kill each other. Like a peace treaty without the officiation.”

“I thought that was a given.”

“Well, you keep alluding that you assume I’m gonna put a rusted pipe through your gut while you’re asleep, though I’m pretty sure I sleep more than you do.” You frown. “Are you saying you don’t agree?”

“It’s not that,” Leon shakes his head. “I just never thought I’d see you trying to keep the peace.”

“What kind of girl do you take me for?” Like a little drama queen, you sniff exaggeratedly. “I know how to behave when the circumstances call for it.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“You fucking suck.”

“Don’t forget that you’re the one who came to me,” Leon grumbles. “I could’ve left your ass in the snow to freeze over.”

“Maybe that would’ve been the better option for both of us.” The words are sharp, biting out with aggression even you didn’t expect. “You can get real pissy sometimes, y’know.”

“I think I have a good reason,” Leon snaps, and the gun he’s polishing suddenly seems a lot more dangerous in his hands. “All you do is fucking whine when I could’ve finished what I started.”

You grit your teeth, falling into silence as the two of you maintain deadly eye contact. All the exits and where they were located flash through your head and you know it would take too long to try and escape while you’re injured. You could barely slip away from his perceptive nature when in full health.

Maybe it was time for another nap.

For some reason, the instinct was reminiscent of the times your parents would argue so loudly, it shook the house, and a younger version of yourself turned on her nightlight and tucked herself into bed to sleep away the pain just to wake up to blissful silence. You just didn't expect the old habit to resurface here.

You turn away from him, folding in on yourself, and try not to think about the snow piling outside, the monsters out to get you, or the fact that Leon's eyes are still burning at your backside as he watches. It's less creepy and more irritating and you wonder if he knew how to let someone sleep in peace.

Your eyes close and you try to fill your head with mindless thoughts until he forcefully pulls you out of it.

"I…Let's just try and get through this without going at each other's throats. Okay?"

You don't have the energy to fight him nor did you particularly want to right now. "Okay."

Refusing to look at him, you resign to watching the swirling white outside rather than face the tension that obviously was brewing in the room. Even with this uneasy peace treaty, there was no guarantee that it would be upheld without efforts made by both of you.

In the background, you hear Leon begin shuffling around and you sneak a glance over to see he's elbow deep in one of his bags before he pulls out a sleek silver attache case. He finally seems to find what he's looking for when he takes out a vial that's filled with green, red, and yellow. It's small, probably a little longer than his middle finger, but the contents concern you a little–especially when he saunters over and holds it out to you like you know what to do with it.

"Are we getting high as a celebration of our camaraderie?" You ask, raising an eyebrow as you take it. The colors are all crushed-up leaves of some kind and you silently wonder if Leon's been a stoner this whole time you've known him. "I don't do blunts, Kennedy."

"Slow your roll, crackhead," he scoffs. "It's herbs that'll put you right as rain."

"And you want me to…?"

"Eat it."

You blink dumbly at him, trying to figure out if this was all some kind of joke that he was trying to play on you. "What?"

"I had to take doses of it all the time when I was in Spain," he assures, though you don't feel any better about the prospect.

"I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse."

"Take it with water if you're so worried."

You watch him carefully as you uncap the vial and cringe at the strong smell of the plants and the powerful aroma of an herbal scent. In fact, if you stayed here for a bit, you're sure your eyes would probably water as if you were standing in front of an onion while chopping it. Looking at Leon with uncertainty, he just nodded like that made this whole situation viable.

You didn't really have a choice.

You pour the contents of the vial into your mouth then choke down as much water as you can as fast as you can. It's alarming the way your body seems to jolt and the nerves beneath your skin start buzzing. If this is what dying felt like, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

"You should sleep," Leon suggests, turning around and making his way to the bathroom. "You've been awake for a while and the herbs need time to settle."

"Alright."

He spares you a glance, looking as though he wanted to say something. It doesn't make it off his tongue though, as he turns back around and closes the door with a soft click. Soon, you hear the sound of running water, and the sounds of the shower provide a comforting white noise as you settle down on the couch.

Your eyes close, and it doesn't take long before you find yourself in the middle of a smoking battlefield covered in the debris of fallen buildings. Somewhere, a grenade goes off.

Some things never changed.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“I’m serious, Kennedy,” you frown, trying to work it all out. “Where the hell did you even get something like that?”

He shrugs but the small shit-eating smirk he tries to suppress is more than enough to make your blood boil just a little.

When you had woken up, your body seemed to have rewound back in time while you were asleep, putting you back at peak health. The injuries that you had been nursing for about three days vanished without a trace and didn’t leave any after-effects. The autonomy you had almost made you fall off the damn couch when you realized this fact and it had devolved into trying to get Leon to tell you what the hell was in that vial and how he had gotten his hands on it.

Your questioning has not been successful so far. He’s scarily good at evading giving an answer.

You fall back to sit on the couch, rolling your shoulder and ankle this way and that, trying to find a fault in the healing process, but come up empty-handed. It really was as if nothing happened at all.

“Just in case,” Leon speaks suddenly, “I’d like to check you over for any extra injuries. Even those herbs can’t catch everything if we’re not careful.”

Your lips purse as you reel back at the idea. That was something that required trust, which very little of ran between you and Leon. Exposing yourself to him for an easy shot at your back wasn’t the most appealing scenario and you’d rather avoid the chance of it altogether. He had a point, though, since you couldn’t see the cut on your back and knew that if it didn’t heal correctly, it could get infected which was less than ideal.

“I want all weapons on the other side of the room,” you concede and he immediately sets to work discarding everything away from the couch as you venture to the bathroom for the first aid kit.

Nervousness rolls in your gut as if you were about to go out on a stage and perform at an opera in front of thousands of eyes–actually, that would probably be better than this. Every muscle in you twitches as if reminding you what typically happens when you or Leon see a vulnerability in each other.

That was rule number one: you see a weakness, you exploit it.

When you return, Leon’s already sat down and removed his jacket so that all he was left with was a gray t-shirt and pants with pockets that were comfortingly flat and empty-looking. You sit down with your back facing towards him, set the kit in your lap, and breathe out in hopes that it would soothe your nerves.

It does not.

“There was a nasty cut on my back,” you begin, deciding fuck it and strip off your shirt. The cooler air hits your skin and you shudder. “I couldn’t reach it so I just slapped some disinfectant on it and called it a day.”

“How you managed to wrap it with one arm is beyond me,” he remarks, tapping the bandages that you begin to remove when you get the hint.

The wrappings fall away and the room falls silent. Too silent.

Afraid, you mutter, “Leon?”

“What the fuck?”

The last time he had said that was when you had shown up on his doorstep, and his tone concerns you so much that you pivot your torso around just enough to look at him.

His eyes have locked onto the scars on your backside, and you can feel the ghost of a grip that nearly ground your radius and ulna together as a blade had carved itself into your skin. You know what it looks like, having avoided mirrors that had any view of the rigid flesh that decorates your back like a mutilated canvas. The scars are ugly, forcefully healed and you realize why it might look odd to someone who hasn’t had to bear the curse of looking at them every morning.

A collection of punishments you had deserved. You hadn't been careful enough and you paid the price

When he talks again, Leon sounds like he's ready and poised to kill, though it wasn't directed at you which was incredibly uncharacteristic of him. "Who did this to you?"

You look away. "It's not important."

The silence hangs tensely in the air, just waiting to burst open. Of course, it's awkward being half-naked in front of Leon bearing old scars that you tend to try to forget for a reason. This was supposed to be just a check-up–maybe some aid in patching up that horrendous cut on your back–nothing more.

"They did this," he murmurs, almost inaudible. "Didn't they?"

You don't look at him, hoping that if you will yourself hard enough, you could just disintegrate. You'd do anything just to get away from the demanding gaze his blue eyes pin you down with even with him not having touched you at all.

"(Y/n)." He's never said your name like that before. As if you mattered to him. As if anything that hurt you hurt him too. "What happened at the J.I.E.?"

Well…there was no point in trying to hide it now, was there?

“They began understanding that Umbrella wasn’t backing down from their advances no matter what they did.” You flinch when the pad of his fingertip brushes the wound from the bioweapon. “Careful.”

“Sorry,” he says and it still feels weird to hear him apologize. “It’s still open so I’ll have to stitch it. You’re lucky it didn’t get infected.”

“Okay,” you open up the first aid kit and hand it over to Leon and he begins the process of numbing the area. “Anyways, um, the J.I.E. got it into their heads that the only way to take down Umbrella was fighting fire with fire so they started developing their own bioweapons–which I didn’t agree with.”

Leon pulls away and rummages through the kit for a needle and thread.

“I tried getting them to understand that starting a B.O.W. war was gonna do more harm than good, but of course, they didn’t listen to me. Instead, they only resolved to keep me in line and continued with their work.” You close your eyes. “Oftentimes, they’d chain me up in one of the labs and…well, you can see how that turned out.”

The point of the needle pierces your flesh and you talk to avoid the feeling of the thread winding through your skin. “I didn’t learn my lesson the first few times and I could only take so much before I had enough of it.”

“So you left.”

“I left, but not without a fight. They sent a titan after me while I was making my escape, and I barely managed to get out alive,” you hesitate, “and that’s when I came to you.”

“About that,” he mumbles, hands steady as he makes his way up the injury, “how’d you know where I was?”

“They kept tabs on you specifically since you posed the greatest threat. I was sent to your locations because of my experience in encountering you so they knew I’d have the most success rate following your missions.” You bite your cheek to avoid twitching from the needle hitting a tender spot. “It wasn’t hard to track you after the incident with Glenn Arias in New York since they also held your medical records. After I found out you were here, I corrupted your files and removed them entirely from the database.”

“Smart.”

“I try to be.”

The rest of the stitching only lasts in silence as he finishes up, pulling the wound together and sealing it with a patch. Together, you re-wrap your torso and he snaps shut the first aid kit.

“Thank you,” you say, reaching out to take the plastic box off his hands so you can return it to the bathroom. “By the way, do you know when this blizzard is going to end?”

“Should be done the day after tomorrow,” he answers before his expression twists in confusion. “Why? You have somewhere to be?”

“I need time to plan if I’m going to be taking down a whole company,” you tuck away the box and close the cabinets, poking your head out of the bathroom to peer at him. “I also should do some recon work to see what I’m really working with. They don’t tell agents much, y’know?”

“You’re going back?”

“I have to.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that alone,” Leon argues as if you haven’t run through this decision a million times in your head already.

“What am I going to do?” You roll your eyes, walking out of the bathroom and sitting on the couch a good few feet away from him. “Amass an army? This is really the only way to do it.”

Upon seeing his stony expression, you struggle to understand why he was making such a big deal out of this. Were it any other day, he would tell you to go die if you really wanted to and leave it at that, so what could have possibly changed that made him concerned over how dangerous this self-imposed mission of yours was?

“Let me come with you,” Leon says and your stomach drops.

You could barely formulate any words. “What?”

“I already told you that going alone is a surefire way to get yourself shot in the head,” Leon shrugs as if you were discussing what you had for lunch. “Are you really going to say no to an extra pair of eyes?”

“No, but–” this whole conversation is turning your whole entire world upside down, “–what the hell would you be getting out of this? Are you out of your mind?”

Leon gets up, and the muscles on his back flex. “I’d be finding out how J.I.E.’s been getting through the government’s defenses, which has been a particular thorn in our side. Really, there’s nothing to lose.”

“Except your life.”

“There’s always been that possibility.”

You breathe deeply through your nose, trying to sort out the confusion of this whole situation. It’s a wonder how he always manages to do this. “Leon. I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“Fire away.”

“Why did you really let me live? When I showed up.” Your gaze looks past him through your lashes and he considers you for a brief moment, seemingly thinking over his answer. “You could’ve killed me–ended this all and gone on with your little vacation. I really need to know now.”

“Well that one’s easy,” he leans down and takes a black duffel bag up in his arms. He tosses it over and it lands at your feet. “I couldn’t leave you to die when you were so helpless.”

You unzip the bag and find all of your belongings in there from your guns to stocks to the boxes of bullets you’d brought along. Everything is left untouched to your relief and you take out your handgun, running a finger over the inscription lined in gold on the side. In this state, you make up your mind and mentally curse yourself and Leon.

“Alright,” you finally allow, looking up at him with new determination. “We get out of here when the blizzard stops and we figure out a way to get into the lab.”

“We take it down from the inside.”

“We end their operations, apprehend any officials, and let the government handle the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Leon huffs out a breath, taking a protein bar and handing it over to you. “I take it our peace treaty has been extended for a period of time?”

“I hope so,” you accept the bar from him and peel it open. “Otherwise I’d have to question your motives all over again.”

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Leon flashes you a look you can’t quite decipher. “We’ll leave when the blizzard stops and we can get to the motel’s laundry mat so you’re not trekking out in the snow with sweats.”

“So considerate of you.”

“I try to be.”

The two of you lapse into your own separate worlds as Leon goes through his supplies and you begin doing checks over your equipment. Your knife glints under the low light and J.I.E.’s logo shines proudly on the hilt. You scowl, sheathing it and tossing it carelessly back into the bag.

You really need to upgrade a few things.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The night is crisp, cool, and calming.

You never expected the cold to be comforting, but here you are. After the rollercoaster of emotions the past few days have been, you were eager to find someplace to be alone. Of, course, it’s not because of anything Leon did, but it was nice to just be by yourself with your own thoughts from time to time.

A windbreaker jacket is all you have to shelter yourself from the frigid temperature, but you find that it isn’t as intrusive as you expected it to be.

You sigh and a cloud of breath spills from your lips, puffing up into the air and floating away like less elegant smoke rings. Your eyes follow it until the miniature clouds disappear, your body leaning back into the wooden wall of the motel. One thought springs after another and with nothing but the wind whistling in your ears, something akin to peace stirs in your chest.

It's quiet out here.

While tension still ran between the both of you since Leon had stitched up your back, you’d be lying if you said nothing has changed. The atmosphere has drastically shifted within the motel room from simmering hate ready to boil over to something much milder. Obviously, old habits die hard and you can’t help but be cautious every time he gets closer to you than usual, but he never does anything out of line.

You can’t tell if that’s more alarming or not.

Snow cascades like white q-tips, gently fluttering to the ground rather than swirling violently as it had just yesterday. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch and in this space of solitude, it’s nice to know that nature takes its course no matter what may be happening. Despite all the B.O.W.s and corrupted companies, places like this stay safely hidden away from all that drama and exist like an external part of the earth.

A safe space–or haven, even.

Out in the distance by the gap in the fence where you had come in is a street lamp with two lanterns positioned symmetrically on each side of the pole. While one shines proudly and sheds light onto the snow below it, the other stays dead and dark. You wonder if it had just broken one day or gotten too old, but nonetheless, it's sort of a sad sight altogether.

The door creaks open and you perk up.

Leon comes out slowly but his shoulders relax upon seeing you as he shuts the door gently behind him as he says, “I thought you might’ve booked it.”

“Don’t be silly,” you chastise lightly, though not really mad at all. “I thought I would come outside to watch the snowfall before I have to jump into all the action later.”

He comes to stand beside you and together, you watch the flurries fall. You haven't been able to enjoy a moment like this in a long while since the J.I.E. always held you on such a short leash. When one mission ended, another began, and you'd been stuck in a loop ever since they found out that using physical means kept you fighting to stay alive.

Leon clears his throat awkwardly. "I don't remember the last time I just…watched the snow."

You glance at him and a smile threatens to tug on your lips, knowing that he's trying his best but all too unfamiliar from being emotionally constipated. It's not like you're not the same way, but it's nice to know he's at least trying. "Yeah. I remember last Christmas Eve when I got to, but it didn't last long. Got a damn email telling me I'd be dispatched the next day."

He seems surprised. "You didn't spend Christmas with anybody?"

"Nope." You pop the 'p'. "The night I got to my destination, the receptionist at the hotel I was assigned to looked like I kicked her puppy or something when I told her it was just me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," you snicker. "It's alright, though. I got to walk through the town square at night and it was really pretty. Had all those fairy lights crossing overhead and it gave it this almost golden glow to it."

If you tried hard enough, you could remember it all. The sight of dim lights illuminating shops and hearing the sound of people conversing with each other enthusiastically. The snow had covered the ground in a thin layer and the sound of a rushing fountain had run in the distance, standing as the centerpiece of the town with colored bricks in a perfect circle.

A breeze sweeps through the air and you shiver, trying to curl into the material of your windbreaker that provides no heat at all. "There were so many people there. Friends, families, couples…and then there was just me. It was pretty funny."

"Did you get to do anything?"

You finally look up at him only to find him already staring down at you. Your heart seems to kick harshly in your chest before returning to its regular pace, and you don't give your brain time to dwell on it before answering. "Well, I got to help a little boy find his parents."

"What?"

"He came up to me crying," you reminisce, shifting your gaze away from him and back out to the road that led up to the motel. "Grabbed me by the pant leg and started telling me about how he lost his mom in the middle of a crowd and now he couldn't find her."

"Jesus Christ."

A small laugh escapes your throat. "I walked with him on my hip for about three hours looking for her until we finally found her and his dad at a café. They tried paying me but…" The toe of your boot digs mindlessly into the floor beneath you. "I refused. Helping someone who's lost their way shouldn't be a monetary gain, y'know?"

Leon doesn't answer you on that, and you lock eyes with him once more as you try to discern what has him in such a stupor. You don't get to ask when you catch sight of his dusty blue irises that seem to shift in shade with every expansion and contraction of his pupils. He looks like he's trying to find something in your expression, but whatever it could be, you don't know. It's nearly unnerving. Nearly.

"Is that really your philosophy?" He finally asks after an extensive lapse of only quiet filling the spaces between your bodies.

"What do you mean?" You shake your head before rephrasing, "What do you really mean?"

A breathy laugh escapes him and you realize that in all the years you've known him, you don't even know the most basic things about Leon. You know how to read the undertones of his questions, can interpret his body language better than any lover he's ever had, but you don't even know what his favorite color is. You don't know his favorite time of day or what type of foods he likes or what his favorite subject in school was.

You don't know what his laugh sounds like or how his lips will pull when he genuinely smiles or how he expresses joy to any capacity.

You've only seen an agent, devolving into something darker as he lost his dirty blonde hair along the way and gained a deep brunette that made his eyes all the more electric. He's gotten careless about the stubble that peppers his jawline and you realize that objectively, he looks good at his age, though you'd take that realization to the grave.

The two do you have really let your lives slip away that easily, huh?

"You'll understand one day," he says vaguely, and though you're unhappy with the response, you decide to let it slide just this once. "You're shivering–let's go inside."

"Sure," you murmur, giving the landscape one more forlorn look before following him inside.

The heat encapsulates you and immediately, the cold drifts away into something warmer. Leon's already there in the middle of it all as he heats up something on a pan over the fire, claiming that since it's your last night, he'd use the better food he brought so that it wouldn't go to waste. After all, he's already set sights in an actual hotel in a real city that he plans on traveling to and has already run through the possibilities with you and what to expect.

Something about the whole scene is oddly domestic, though you push down the feeling to go join him by the roaring fire. Since you've been here, the sound of wood splitting beneath the flames and the smell of smoke have become a comfort that you know you'll miss once you get out of here.

The night drags on as you eat and discuss your next plans with Leon, out in the middle of nowhere with nobody but each other to confide in. Two incredibly unlikely allies working in tandem after years of a heated feud–truly a sight to behold and even more so impressive considering that you've been at each other's throats for such a long time.

Outside, out of sight from you and him, the dead lantern on the street lamp sparks once, twice, then illuminates just as strongly and brightly as its counterpart.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil leon #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fanfic

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foreverisntenough · 10 days

Text

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) the word daddy is thrown into this once* mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 28 - ‘You’re Mine’

Dianne and you sat in her kitchen while she explained something she had seen on Instagram the other day. You smiled and nodded. All the time that you spent with Dianne made you miss your own mum a lot. You'd always end up calling her after you left her house on your way back home.

“When does he come back?” Your mum’s voice echoed through the car's speaker as you drove to your house. Your eyes fixed on the road as you rounded a windy corner before your neighborhood.

“Thursday, so that’ll be nice to have him home.” You cooed dreaming of Trent’s return. He was coming back from preseason in the next few days and you had found yourself glued to the rest of his family, missing him just wanting to be around the familiarity. Being in your house without him always was a little lonely so being at Dianne’s was nice to hear the accents, see photos of him as a little boy, have their dogs be with yours, eat dinners with family, those types of things. It also made Trent feel better you weren’t by yourself and happy that you got along with them so well.

“Have you spoken to your dad? He’s trying to plan a trip over but didn’t want to bother you.” You mum spoke cautiously. Her hesitancy baffled you. What did she mean spoken to dad? You always talked to him.

“He doesn’t bother me ever?” You said confused and a little saddened by the statement. Sometimes being away from your family hurt your heart. You couldn’t always feel the emotion the same or understand the sentiment of words over texts and calls. It upset you that the distance could possibly strain your relationships. You tried to visit one another as often as you could but it wasn’t all that frequent.

“Just give him a call. I don’t think he wanted you to feel like you needed to involve Trent.” You started to laugh at your mum's discretion. It was so ridiculous but then again sometimes you forgot you lived with Trent, the person when a lot of people, even those closest to you, would always see him as Trent, the footballer. You ended the call with her before pulling in your drive. You scrolled on your phone multitasking as you trotted back into your house seeing a video Liverpool had posted on instagram of your pretty footballer. Okay, to be fair, sometimes you had a hard time remembering he was even a real person, he was so gorgeous. A video of him in training dripping, glistening in sweat under the sun had you feeling the heat in a different type of way. You cheekily reshared the post to your Instagram story with a text overlay ‘girl dinner 🤤’ Almost immediately responses to your story flooded in, screenshots reshared of the post.

‘Literally is one of us’

‘No, girl cause same 😭’

‘The fact that even she feels this way about him’

‘Girl dinner fr’

‘Don’t be shy, share some more pics of your dinner at home’

The comments made you laugh and simultaneously miss him just a little bit more. As Thursday night rolled around you were dozing in and out of sleep tucked in your big bed anxiously awaiting your man. Pillows tossed around cuddled up in a t-shirt of his that had scrunched up putting your whole body on display. Your legs tangled in the blankets. You laid holding your phone over your face as the blue light illuminated your features. You scrolled and scrolled on TikTok until you got the ad to take a break. You ignored it and continued in your doom until a faint smile appeared on your face. Your cheeks warmed as a familiar face showed on the screen again. A deep dimple dug into his cheek while he flashed a big childish grin. The man you loved was laughing in a promotional video for the club with Andy. You’d never felt more envious of his teammates. To be in the same room as that laugh. The warm echo coming from your phone made your heartbeat a little harder, ache a little more, yearn terribly for him. You shamelessly clicked on the hashtag of his name and combed through edits of him. You must’ve watched one particular sexy yet cute video of him on loop for 15 minutes plus. You shut your eyes just trying to remember the way his brown ones glimmered in the video. That was maybe a benefit of Trent’s fame, you got to watch edits of him. It was a little treat to always be able to see him. Sure, everyone else got to share the view but it made you giddy knowing the boy in that video was going to be coming home just to you soon. You tossed and turned anxious for Trent to return. He said he was coming home tonight but you didn’t press for the exact time so when you crawled into bed around 23:00 you were desperate for him to be there next to you but as your eyes got heavier and heavier your body’s need for sleep overtook your desire to be awake for when he arrived. You hugged his pillow that his scent had faded from. It wasn’t like he left you, you just missed him and that you did an awful lot. You missed him so much. You fell asleep on your stomach, your knee raised and pulled up to your side, your arms still hugging his pillow. You were out cold fast asleep when the door to your room opened quietly. A little stream of light seeped into your room and cast over your frame. You didn’t budge but when you felt the most perfect pair of lips in the world press onto your smooth hot skin you shivered. Trent nudged his nose against your back. Pressing his cheek against you. Nuzzling his face into you. He hummed, running his cool hands over you. Pressing kisses all over your back as he pushed your shirt up further leaving your skin glistening with his spit. Your whole body lit up tingling under him.

“I’m home, baby.” He whispered behind your ear with another sensual kiss. The words ignited a fire inside you. You didn’t know if waking up to his touch was going to make you cry or orgasm. Jesus, his hands felt good. You hummed as his whole body pressed into yours including his hardening cock. “Missed you so much, beautiful.” He kept kissing your bare back. It was a thing you’d kind of landed on by accident but when Trent came home you wanted him to fuck you right away, to wake you up even if you were asleep. That’s just how bad you missed him. Of course, if you didn’t want to you could say so but that was few and far between.

“T…” you whined attempting to turn but his body weight on you wouldn’t let you. You reached behind you gripping his shirt tight in your fist. “Baby” you gasped out. You felt the most blissful form of helplessness underneath his heavy weight. The surge of warmth from his body radiated against you. He leaned away from you for a moment to pull his shirt over his head. His chest came pressing against your bare skin under the blankets.

“C’mere.” He whispered pulling you impossibly closer to him. You moaned and arched your spine. Your ass pressing into him, his hands sliding under you to cup your boobs. “Your T’s back, yeah? Get this off for me.” He kept his lips so close to your skin. The warmth of his breathe on you as he spoke had you quivering, letting him manipulate your body to peel the t-shirt off you. You cocked your head to the side as he kissed the side of your lips moving into a messy desperate kiss. He kissed you softly at first and then gradually it intensified as you clung to him as your mind dizzied. He stayed laying directly on top of you pressing you into the mattress grinding his cock down on you. “Stay just like this f’me” he whispered again pulling your panties off. His hand slipped between the lips of your pussy. You were soaked just from the makeout alone. He teasingly played with your clit. He was rock hard as his tip nudged your wet pussy.

“T... please” you begged for him to be inside of you as pushed back into him. He lined his cock up with your entrance before rolling his hips to slowly slide himself in deeper and deeper. Letting out a quiet sleepy moan. “Such a good girl” he cooed. Trent began moving in and out, taking his time with you, letting you adjust to his size, his hands caressing your naked body. You bit the pillow case to try to muffle your moans. “Want to hear you, beautiful. Missed you so much” as he pulled your face gently off it tilting it to the side.

“I missed you so much, baby.” You whined feeling him hit deeper and deeper. Your arms clutched onto the sheets beneath you as your cheek pressed further into the bedding. You kept pushing your ass against him wanting more. The sound of your soaked pussy and his languid but hard thrusts filling the room.

“You’re so wet, baby. Who made you this wet? Huh?” Trent asked greedily, wanting to hear you say his name. As you softly cried out his name again and again his cock began to hit that one spot so deep inside you only he knew repeatedly.

“Holy sh-shit I’m gonna cum, baby. Please please let me cum.” You begged, feeling your orgasm rapidly approaching unable to slow it. He slipped his fingers nimbly under you and worked them in tight circles around your throbbing clit. “T.. fuck! Oh my god, oh my god.” You cried out as your high rippled through you. Your thighs quivering uncontrollably under his weight.

“Good girl. Doing so well, baby.” Trent said with a smile pulling across his face having to bite his lip just from the sight of seeing you cum underneath him as his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His fingers stayed playing with your clit for a little as you trembled, starting to overstimulate you. You whined as your heaving chest pressed further into the mattress.

“Baby, please cum inside me. I need you.” You moaned feeling the overstimulation turn into another bout of pleasure that was consuming all your thoughts, your brain turning to mush as he continued to fuck you. You needed him to fill you up. You loved Trent having control of you, letting him fuck you into the mattress like this.

“I got you, baby. Cum for me one more time. Cum with me, yeah?” He whispered in your ear. Your pussy dripped around him. You bit your lip, looking at him with desperate doe eyes. Trent could feel the veins running along his cock throbbing. He worked his hips faster, harsher. Both of your pleasure building higher and higher.

“T… oh my god, please fill me up.” You whined between ragged breaths from his thrusts. He grunted at the thought of you carrying his child. He bit down onto your shoulder, his pace growing sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Be a good girl for me. Fuck!” Your muscles tensed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head before you felt his warm cum start to seep into you. Your own orgasm crashing over you. “Take all of my cum in this pussy, yeah baby?” He thrusted a few more times before he began to still while his pulsating cock still dribbled into you, your pussy fluttered as you panted beneath him. He softly stroked your hair and gently kissed your temple. “I love you, baby. Did so good f’me.” You smiled breathlessly as he began to coat your glistening frame with the same gentle kisses that started this. He kissed you in a way that you could feel just how much he adored you with each one. He loved you more than he could ever articulate with words but you could always feel it in the silences. He got off the bed and then cleaned you up before he tucked you neatly back in his arms.

“I’m so happy you’re home, baby.” You cooed quietly as your eyes fluttered closed. He held you close to his chest pressing kisses onto your hair.

“I’m happy I’m home too, beautiful. Love you so much.” He whispered as he could feel your breathing start to slow, your head heavier on him. “Get a good sleep, baby.” He whispered again with one final kiss before closing his eyes.

You rustled under the covers waking up to a pretty sleepy brown skinned boy on your chest. Your dainty manicured nails scratched at his scalp. He nuzzled further into you. You giggled a little at his clinginess and dragged your nail over his cheek bone down his jaw before you squeezed the muscle in between his neck and shoulder. You pressed your lips to his forehead, then slowly peeled them off his skin. His arms wrapped tighter around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. He started to place light kisses all over your bare stomach.

“Morning, pretty boy.” You whispered, returning your nails to gently scratch the back of his neck. He hummed. Trent’s eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile pulled on his lips. He looked up at you with heavy eyelids.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” His morning voice was rough and the syllables dripped out of his mouth. Your cheeks brightened hearing and seeing him back in your bed. He sat up a little resting his body weight on his forearms next to your body. His chin coming to rest on your collarbone. He turned his head to the side to get a better look at the features of your face. A crease from your pillow indented into your smooth skin, your lips pout and puffy. His eyes squinted nuzzling his face into your neck placing a soft kiss against your skin pushing the warm metal of your necklace against you. He pulled away and smiled again. His fingers wrapped under the chain of your necklace gently and looked into your eyes “Did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the world?” He cooed watching you go shy under his gaze.

“Stop…” you rolled your eyes embarrassed hearing his compliment leaning back onto your headboard. You sheepishly smiled before you kissed the top of his head coming to grab your phone from the nightstand. You looked at the time and sighed. You just showed the screen in silence to Trent letting him know you two had slept late into the morning, it really was almost the afternoon.

“Don’t care.” He murmured laying his body weight back on top of you as he started sucking on your skin leaving love bites working his way down your chest. You finagled your hands to reach under his arms. You pulled him up off you with a giggle and a shake of the head.

“We have to get up!” You yelped muddied in a laugh as he dramatically rolled off you groaning. He laid on his back staring at the ceiling in desperation.

“Babbbyyy…” he whined. “It’s been weeks, c’mon, please, I need you.” He begged despite having sex a few hours ago. You looked at him with raised eyebrows amused.

“It was your job not mine!” You teased with a smug grin playfully slapping at him. Him being away from you wasn’t exactly his fault but it wasn’t yours either. You sat up some more and started to get off the bed. Your legs dangled off the edge as you stretched looking around for the clothes he had peeled off you last night. Trent grabbed your phone off the bed to look at the time again and swiped up unlocking it. He navigated around to see what you’d been up to since he left. Making his way to your camera roll, he scrolled through your recent pictures.

“Didn’t send this to me…” he mumbled and huffed while he rolled his eyes looking at a mirror pic you took to send to Lauren of your outfit one day. You had asked if it was too slutty, she said no, you landed on yes so you changed hence why Trent wouldn’t have seen it. You just smiled at his feigned annoyance and stood up, walking away from him. He opened your TikTok that was still on the liked video edit of him. The smug look that came over this boy's face was ridiculous. He laughed to himself and rolled over on his stomach kicking his feet like a little girl giddy, pretty happy scrolling through comments.

‘Daddy’

‘He’s so fine’

‘Obsessed with him’

“What?” You asked him unaware as you listened to him giggle. You turned around to see his eyes practically closed; they were squinted so much from his big smile. He turned the phone around for you to see the video playing cutting to different angles of himself.

“What’s this? Hmm?” He laughed with a load of self satisfaction you couldn’t even make up. You walked over to him and snatched the phone clicking off the power button.

“Oh stop! Get over yourself!” You yelped, unable to hide your own laughter. “Also! It’s not like you’ve never watched an edit of yourself. You love it” you poked fun at him trying to deflect. “That’s embarrassing you watching that.” You teased.

“Nah, I’m not the one liking the videos thirsting over me.” He cooed standing up and walking towards you. You rolled your eyes still trying to tame the big smile on your face from being ‘caught.’

“Well they don’t make edits of me for you to like do they?” You rebutted as he got closer to you despite you trying to take steps further away with a childish grin.

“They should” he cooed, keeping his distance as he gave you a sly smile. You could feel the tension rise in the room. The air going thick.

“They should…” you giggled, sarcastically agreeing but flattered with his comment. Your cheeks burning, beginning to hurt from your smile. He always was quick with his words that managed to make your legs feel like jello in an instant.

“C’mere.” Trent lunged at you and you squealed as his big arms wrapped around you, swinging you around. He had you in his hold within milliseconds and you were unable to escape. “You fangirling over me? Hmm?” Trent teased biting on your neck playfully, still manhandling your body in his arms. “Tell me baby… do you have a little crush on me? Think I’m fit?” he laughed as you squirmed, particularly entertained with his findings.

“Yes, T, you’re very very pretty. We get it.” You giggled rolling your eyes ignoring his ego finally breaking out of his grasp. Truthfully, he let you go, he was much too strong for you to manage that on your own. After you ‘escaped’ from him he grabbed your waist quick to pull you back in for a real kiss. You spent the day together and you were just so happy to have him physically home instead of sitting on a FaceTime with him as you cooked your dinner alone. It was much better to feel his hands on you then have him tell you about them. The TikToks were great but the IRL version of Trent was just perfect.

The season had kicked off without a hitch and somehow it was already rapidly approaching the middle of it as you stood in your wardrobe eyes wide. Your summer of warm weather and talk about babies with Trent was long gone. You dragged your hand over the racks of clothing trying to figure out what to wear to Trent’s match tonight. Previously you had been thinking of all the ways you’d have to be hiding a bump at this point but that wasn’t the case. The tiny waist of your pants zipped up perfectly still. Due to the frequency of your appearances at games you felt like you were running out of outfit ideas. It was like doing a weird rubik's cube trying to find new possibilities and variations of match day looks. Trent wasn't around as much. He was heads down, focused, you understood that and you supported him best you could. What was unbelievable to you though was how despite living together in the same house there were weeks like this one where you barely saw him. Christmas was around the corner and you had decided to stay in Liverpool this year, mostly for Trent’s busy schedule but also because you had gone to the US last year. It stressed you out it was getting closer but for the moment your stress was funneled into trying to decide if you wanted to wear heels or sneakers. You ended up wearing a pair of jordans with a black bodysuit that hugged you tight and a pair of cargo pants. You paired a black Prada puffer coat and a Chanel flap bag with the fit. It was simple but sometimes it just felt better to play it low key. You weren’t having to hide a baby bump but you didn't mind hiding yourself all together from people potentially staring at you. Walking around in an Alexander-Arnold jersey at a match sometimes had the effect like wearing a target on your back.

You sat in the box nestled between Marcel and Dianne. It was cold and you could feel your nose run a little as rain poured down on the pitch. Dianne put her hand on your thigh and squeezed your leg as you all anxiously watched Trent walk over to take a corner kick. You followed his methodical movements. In a bizarre way he was incredibly graceful. For someone who was so rough and strong he seemed to move so smoothly and it always impressed you. It impressed you but it didn’t surprise you considering what he was like in bed and how his hands moved on you but you were trying not to let your thoughts go in that direction as you sat next to his mum watching him. You would never tell him how graceful you thought he was though because you’d likely never hear the end of a rant about his technique or the technical side of football, the beauty of the game, whatever it was… he would just end up yapping away. You’d save the comment for a time where he was wired and you were too tired to talk.

Another game and another assist came and went for Trent as you sat in the box listening to his brother talk to you similarly to how Trent would, overly animated, fast, eager to keep your attention. Time went by quickly with Marcel in your ear. You loved him like a brother and just the same he annoyed you like one too. Trent finally appeared in the box moving sluggishly in his tracksuit. You just wanted to run up and hug him, squish him, he looked so cozy. You restrained yourself and let him say hello to everyone; family, friends, niceties to people he didn’t know, making his way through the room. He spotted you waiting patiently leaning your head on Marcel’s shoulder. His face lit up. He winked at you before finishing a conversation he was currently in with a person from the club. When he finished he strided over to you with the same grace and swagger he carried on the pitch. He dapped up Marcel and then stared at you waiting for you to move. He licked his lips and flashed you a smile. You stood up and stepped into his warm embrace silently understanding what he wanted. You kissed under his chin as he squished you against his chest.

“Now thisss is who I’ve been waiting to see” he cooed, kissing the top of your head. Your heart warmed and faltered a little every time he was so open in front of other people about his feelings. “Ready to go home, pretty girl?” He cooed, releasing you from his tight hold but keeping you close to him, his hand lingering on your ass as you tried to subtly swat it away as you stood still talking with his family. You threw him a quick glare. He just looked at you with a big smile, unphased, not budging. He patted your ass cockily proving to you that he was going to do what he wanted when he wanted. He was in control of this relationship, at least physically… that is until you’d pout and cry and he’d cave in an instant. You both liked things that way.

The week rolled on and Trent was at an away game for the champions league versus Paris Saint Germain. You missed him just the same every time he left but it was every week and there was no use in dwelling when it was going to happen. You were on FaceTime with Trent yet again doing nothing but talking nonsense as you were in your bedroom trying on some clothes you had recently bought. You propped the phone up on the dresser for him to see both you and your reflection standing in the mirror.

“T... does this look nice?” You cooed, not looking at the phone. He smiled and chuckled before you changed your mind disregarding any answer he was going to give. You unzipped the little dress and it fell off you and pooled on the ground. Trent cleared his throat letting himself stare at your naked body. You pursed your lips looking dissatisfied with the turn out of your haul. You slipped back on the little thong you were in but had taken off for it not to show under the dress. Trent laughed some more as he felt his cheeks grow warmer. He shook his head in disbelief at your body as you innocently and naively walked back over to the phone turning him on an incredible amount by doing nothing but simply existing back at home.

“Beautiful, baby.” He watched your face light up at his compliment. You looked absolutely unreal as his eyes widened and he smirked. You stared at each other longingly, greedily missing each other but you jumped a little when suddenly your doorbell rang throughout the empty house. You flashed a look of confusion at Trent who heard the noise too. It was odd for someone to be coming to your door like this. If you did have a delivery coming, you always knew about it ahead of time so you looked at Trent again only for him to nod with a grin.

“Well go see…” he threw his head to the side gesturing to you to go open the door. He had a knowing look on your face you didn’t enjoy.

“T… what is this?” You hesitantly walked down the stairs. You cautiously approached your front door to see a delivery man patiently waiting. You put Trent down before opening it. You greeted the man and accepted the package. It was a pretty sizable brown unmarked box. Your brow furrowed as you took it inside. You picked your phone up back up off the console and placed it on the box as you carried both into the kitchen.

“What is it? Go on.” Trent's voice came from the phone reminding you he was there and when you looked down his mischievous smile stared to grow a bit bigger.

“I don’t like that you know what this is…” you paused. “You do know right?” You flashed your eyes at him for an answer. He nodded confirming he did. You mangled the tape off the exterior box unwinding excess packaging material galore before finding a big orange box. You just about felt your heart stop. “No… don’t do this.” You spoke in a shaky voice.

“You’re taking forever…” he whined. You rolled your eyes at his impatience. You opened the lid of the orange box and your jaw slacked. You took the heathered dust bag out of the box and immediately knew holding it.

“Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up” Your eyes started to welle. Trent tried to talk but you had no idea what he was saying in your state of surprise as you pulled the Hermes birkin 25 out. A hunk of leather had never felt more special in your hands. Your eyes blinked a few times in disbelief you were holding the bag.

“So…” Trent’s voice broke through your moment of utter shock. You shook your head trying to get back to the present moment. You pouted at him unsure what you ever did to deserve him and right now… a fucking birkin.

“Why did you do this, baby?” You cooed in a sappy tone. He just smiled.

“You haven’t read the card… baby, you are taking forever, seriously” He giggled as he watched you pick up the little piece of stationary.

‘Meet me in Paris xx’

“Are you serious?” You started to actually cry now. Tears rolled down your cheeks. One drop splattered onto the card diluting the blank ink of the card stock.

“Why are you crying? Just come meet me, yeah? What do you think?” He spoke a little bit softer seeing you get emotional. You sniffled and nodded your head. “Alright, good, baby. Can’t wait to see you.” Your conversation and stun continued through the night as he told you more legitimate details. Trent had got you a flight to meet him in Paris after his game to spend the night there with him. You eagerly packed absolutely delirious with excitement. You weren’t sure how to pack a birkin but you sure as hell would be finding a way to bring it with you.

There was a knock at your hotel door. You giddily jumped up from the bed and rushed over to look through the little peep hole. As expected, the beautiful boy you watched play a football match earlier this afternoon stood there. You opened the door slow with a sly smile as you leaned against the door frame before him in a slinky silk robe tied at your waist.

“Room service” He cooed cheekily and you just shook your head at his poor joke looking into his dark eyes but played along.

“Just what I ordered.” You giggled, dragging him into the room by his shirt. He stumbled following your harsh pull. He dropped a Louis Vuitton duffle bag on the floor. You heard it hit the carpet but you were totally transfixed on him, completely consumed. The way his hands felt gliding over the material of your robe covering your ass, pulling it up revealing some of your skin, sent a shiver run down your spine. “Do you have time for this?” You said quiet withholding your lips a short distance from his.

“Baby… I always have time for you.” He whispered before his lips pressed into yours. Your body electrified under his touch. You could feel something between you two was different in this hotel room. It was tense and exciting. Maybe it was the way his whisper had tickled your ear. The sensation eliciting something dangerously carnal within you. He untied your robe swiftly, slipping it off your shoulders with a ghosting touch.

His lips melted into yours. It was hot and heavy, like the kiss could bruise your lips. He breathed in your gasp as you felt his hard cock throb against you. The kiss was sloppy with teeth and spit, desperation kicking in after your time apart. You choked a little in the kiss surprised when he pushed you back to the bed. He was confusingly rough and gentle at the same time. His face came level with your core. He pulled your lace panties off slow but with vigor. His fingers made quick work between your wet folds before he spit onto your quivering pussy spreading it around your clit with his thumb. You whined as he moved kisses up your body while he slipped his fingers inside and continued to work them in and out of you. His free hand uncliped your bra.

“Take this off f’me, baby.” Your whines continued falling from your lips repeating his name in pleasure. The words were going straight to his cock that was becoming painfully hard. “I got you, cum f’me.” He whispered sucking on your neck. His fingers movements were harsh compared to his gentle words. You inhaled hard before you could even tell him you were cumming. You felt your walls pulsating around his fingers, your juices leaking down his hand some. He pulled them out slowly, both of his hands coming to knead your tits sensually as he pressed his covered hard cock onto you. You could feel the precum seeping through his thin boxers.

“Please fuck me, T. I need you inside me.” His cock twitched hearing your frenzied voice. You blinked up at Trent with doe eyed and slightly teary ones after your orgasm continued to linger. He slid off his boxers before pulling you into another steamy kiss. He rolled you over to be under you. Eagerly you began to grind your dripping pussy deliciously against his abs. The slick from you and the precum leaking from his tip smeared across your bodies.

“I need you right now.” He groaned out before pushing you back some as you lifted your hips for him. He lined his big cock up with your entrance and helped guide you down slowly. “Fuck, baby, so good” he choked out. He watched you sink down onto his length but your eyes were focused on the pleasure washing over his face. You nodded once he was all the way in for him to move. You bounced on top of him as he thrusted into you in perfect synchronized movements.

“I love you so much, baby.” You whimpered. The rhythm of your bodies was sublime. Trent's eyes glazed over seeing your tits bounce in front of him as you whined out. You hooked your arms around his neck as his big hands slid up your body coming to play with your hard nipples.

“I love you. Shit, I love you so much.” He moaned, feeling the warm pulsations as he eased in and out of you. The tender moment was juxtaposed with the filthy sounds of your bodies coming together. “My girl’s so beautiful, do you know that? Gonna get you pregnant. Gonna make you the most beautiful mummy.” He whispered, pulling you down into an intimate urgent kiss overcome with emotion. You nodded before moaning out something that had got you started on this journey in the first place.

“Uh huh, daddy” you smiled imagining making him one. It was a name you said earnestly but also a little teasingly, not hating the way you felt him fuck into you a little big harder when he heard it. His eyes shut tight as he rashly flipped you over again to be on top and began hammering into your g spot. Your back arched and your lips parted in loud cries.

“Say it again.” He grunted out. And so you did. Trent swore he could cum right there. He continued slamming into you as you wrapped your legs around him. “I love you, baby.” His words swallowed as you came in for another kiss.

“I love you.” As tears started to roll down your cheeks overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion. He continued with his harsh thrusts paired with the most gentle touches. Your body was being rocked against the mattress when he slipped his fingers into your mouth. Flustered by his pace you gaged around them, drooling, sucking desperately.

“I love you so fucking much. Such a good girl for me. Doing so good for me. Taking me so well.” He groaned watching you before he slid his fingers down to rub perfect circles on your clit.

“I’m cumming. Fuck! You feel so good. Ffuck.” You cried out as your lips parted again before his hips closed on yours again. You chanted his name overtaken by the pleasure consuming your whole body. Trent wanted to hear the sounds you were making forever on repeat. The knot in your stomach tightened before it snapped as more tears fell. You clenched tighter around his throbbing cock. He took his fingers off your clit to wipe away your tears sweetly then kissed onto your neck lovingly.

“Baby, I need to cum in this pretty pussy. Need to fill you up. Need you. Gonna.. shit! Gonna cum. Gonna get you pregnant.” He grunted out. His cock twitching deep inside you seconds before he came painting your insides, filling you up as promised. You continued moaning as you rode him through his orgasm. His movements stilled and he laid on top of you stuck to your body. He stayed inside for sometime before he pulled out. His fingers coming to gently push his leaking cum back inside you gently. You whined at the feeling. He came to lay next to you and pulled you onto him.

“Please love me forever.” You pathetically begged deliriously. Between the physical exhaustion and the mental reverie you were in you could barely stay awake. He held you close to him as your body relaxed against his.

“I’ll love you forever, Y/N.” He whispered with a smirk almost out of breath, panting, placing a kiss behind your ear. Trent stared at you falling asleep on him, your bare back, the dim light in the room illuminating your raised spine as his fingers traced down it. Your cheek squished by your own weight on one side of his chest…Your pale pink manicured hand sprayed across the other side. He stroked over your bare ring finger. He felt his heart beat a little faster. “Gonna give you everything you deserve, baby.” He whispered. Your eyes fluttering open again. You glanced up at him, gliding your hand on him down his soft skin. You had never felt more at peace or more in love with him. You laid tucked in Trent’s arms as your heartbeats synced. His hands caressing your skin with his big hands. He nestled his face in the nape of your neck.

“I really want this…” you cooed quiet. Your voice sounded perfect at that moment but his heart broke a little remembering sitting on the couch with you months ago after the doctor left. He knew immediately what you were talking about.

“C’mere” he turned you around to lay your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your entire frame as he squeezed you tight. “We’re gonna make you a mummy, promise.” He spoke equally as quiet into the shell of your ear. His stubble against you made you shiver into him. Just hearing the word ‘mummy’ sent your emotions over the edge. Thank god he turned you to face the other way. Your eyes filled with tears although you didn’t make a sound. You wanted to be a mummy for him so bad. To give him what he wanted. You nuzzled your head back into the space between his shoulder and his neck. Your hands dragged over his arms across you before one reached behind you and glided over his cheek, the other squeezing his thigh beside you. You smiled unprompted imagining the chaos your house would unfold into with a baby involved. Pulling a little 66 jersey over a curly head of hair on match day. Cuddling on the couch with a third tiny human. Him in the back garden running about with a toddler and a ball. It all just worked. It made perfect sense in your mind that your perfect man would be the perfect dad.

“We'll do it, baby.” You giggled thinking about Trent as a dad.

“Yeah? Glad you’re on my team now. I know we will too.” He pecked your cheek. His hands spread over your stomach. “You want food, pretty girl? I’m starving.” Your mind went blank for a moment. You forgot you were in a hotel, you forgot you were in Paris for god sake. In the best way possible, Trent had the ability to steal you entirely from reality. Your world revolved around him and those glimmering eyes and that cheeky smile. You sat on his lap at a table in the room. Thinking about it as you sat unnecessarily on him you two probably were a little nauseating with affection but you just wanted to be closer to him. You both ate far too much food but to be fair you worked up quite an appetite.

“We’ll just take it in stride, alright? Try not to stress about this.” He cooed veering into a conversation about the logistics of your pregnancy situation. Trent didn’t want you to feel like the second he was off the pitch you had to fuck to get pregnant. He wanted you to want him to make love to you. To keep the emotions in the sex not fall into the monotony of the act. You appreciated that he cared and understood neither of you wanted it to ever become transactional. You fell to sleep after having the real room service, a shower, and another sleepier fuck, refusing to leave the room clinging to him and the moment alone you were finally getting to have after spending too much time apart lately.

You woke up in the morning cuddled so close to him you could barely breathe, the heat between you two was making you both slightly sticky and yet you loved every second of it. You sleepily kissed up his jawline and back down again. He grumbled still asleep. He looked like an angel. Trent couldn’t find the strength to wake up. He was absolutely gassed from his match and your night. He was glued to your body. The alarms of your phones were going off but both of you were just reveling in being in each other's company too much to even try to get up. You continually hit ‘snooze’ on your phones every time they rang out. He started to groggily wake and pulled you into a tight embrace. You cuddled in a more intentional manner than a sleepy one now. Nothing else mattered than you two in this bed. Trent didn’t feel like he had just played a match in one of the largest competitions in all of football. He felt like he was just yours right now and that’s all he wanted to be for the moment as he felt your heartbeat under your warm skin.

“I’m exhausted…” you cooed stroking over his hair. Leaning your head further onto him, plagued by sleep.

“Yeah? What’d you get up to last night?” He cheekily said with a shit eating grin. Trent’s tiredness slipped away for a moment as he fell into a smug laugh.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re very funny, T, but yes I am exhausted from last night. I’m pretty sure I fell just a little more in love with you, think it took a lot out of me.” You pinched your thumb and pointer finger together showing a small amount of space as you giggled

“Aw baby, that was sweet. I probably did a little too if that’s even possible at this point but I was just thinking it was probably from how well I fucked you last night.” He chuckled to himself. You could feel his chest vibrate from the noise. Both of your faces pulled into big, big smiles. You tapped at his arm around you playfully.

“You're such a boy!” You squeaked. “That could’ve been a nice moment but nooo.” You giggled feigning an annoyance you didn’t feel. He squeezed you a little tighter before pressing a kiss onto your lips and giving you a half assed ‘I’m sorry’” you laid in the fluffy luxurious hotel bedding for what felt like ages just exchanging kisses and mushy feelings in between comfortable silences as he played with your fingers before finally speaking again.

“We have to get going, sweetheart.” He attempted to sit up some but you just clung to him tighter.

“Are you sure you couldn’t just transfer to PSG?” You teased getting more comfortable in the bed. “We could live right here. This could be our bed. We could learn French.” Your words were muddied in giggles from the silly joke you were making. As you spoke you just snuggled further into his embrace.

“Yeah… okay baby” he yessed your plan with a faint laugh. You obviously weren’t serious, he knew that, you just were so comfortable in the moment that you didn’t want to leave the cozy place you were currently in.

“I like it right here” you whined a little, throwing puppy eyes at him. You liked holding onto him. He was so sweet to even make last night possible you didn’t want to have to make the move to end it. You rubbed your hands over his warm skin. Your hands sliding up his neck before reaching his chin to scratch at his facial hair.

“I love you right here but I’ll love you just the same when we get back home, baby.” He kissed the top of your head before he hummed in contentment as your nails tickled him. You pouted about your stay coming to an end but also just how sweet he always was. You eventually peeled your magnetized bodies off one another’s and began to pack up and shower. Your body stuck to his again wet and you laughed trying to share one towel in order to stay closer drying each other off poorly. You detached less dry than you should’ve been by this point. “Just to really rub it in that we’re going home, Tyler said people are making a big deal out of my little detour after the match. Just a heads up.” Trent said coming up behind you giving you a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I’m sorry.” Your face dropped. You were in your own world inside that hotel room but outside, it was definitely still spinning in its usual order. “I don’t like when I’m the culprit of the media covering some sort of escapade of yours.” You said guilty, moving back into the main room to get dressed.

“Well, I, in fact, do like when you are.” He kissed your lips. “The only things I want happening in my life are the ones with you.” You smiled faintly but you didn’t say much of anything else as you helped fold and fill his duffle bag. You got to run out around the city briefly grabbing macaroons you liked and hitting a few stores before you had to head to the airport but it was an incredibly quick turn around.

You boarded the plane back to England, a short flight nestled in his arms. You both were in sweat sets, yours from Sporty & Rich, his from Aime Leon Dore. With his hood up, Trent rested his head against the window while you laid on him. For a fast flight you were incredibly comfortable. It was going to be the last fleeting moment together before Trent and by proxy, you, returned to regularly scheduled programming of matches and mayhem.

As anticipated and warned by Tyler, your moment alone shattered the second camera’s flashes filled your line of sight. You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the lights. Trent held your hand tighter as he walked through airport arrivals. Security followed next to you. This would never be normal. As the chaos rushed around you with inquiries about Trent’s commitment to the team for ‘taking a day off’ which by the way… was approved by the club, just saying! You squeezed his hand more. Despite feeling more than uneasy he had a way of stilling the madness with a simple glance to you.

“Okay, baby?” He whispered. You nodded with a faux smile. Security opened the door to the car waiting for you. Trent stayed at the car door with them holding it open and helping you in. Your hand grazed his waist as a silent thank you before you slid in. He quickly followed you into the blacked out vehicle. Even after the door shut and it was quiet the noise of the shutters still rang in your ears. While you were hounded as people scolded Trent’s travels, you never felt more secure in his arms tucked into the backseat.

You drove off from the airport towards home and you watched the landscape blur out the car window on the motorway. You laid back into him, your legs stretched across the seat, feet up, and your head thrown to the side against his chest as his hands aimlessly grazed over you. Trent’s hand moved to grip your leg right above your knee. He squeezed it teasingly. You looked up at him and the honey hue of his eyes reflecting the sun filled your stomach with butterflies and a sliver of hope.

“I have a good feeling about next year” he winked looking at you with a sincerity no one could ever make you believe other than him.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 29 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader #taa66

56 notes · View notes

ilyasorokinn · 6 months

Text

thank the donkey , ross macdonald

note, okay, originally, there was going to be a big halloween series, but i couldn't think of anything that really spoke to me and i wasn't inspired, but i was inspired to write for ross. so, this is my contribution to the holiday. this is my new personality trait, get used to it. also, lmk if you like this little family because i do and would like to write more if you'd want to see it :) another note, i tried to find photos of the costumes but couldn't so please just use your imagination :) last note, dedicating this to vee (@abiiors)! i was inspired by your dad!ross, so in my world, ross is also a girl dad and names his daughters after flowers lol love ya <3 pair, ross macdonald x reader summary, poppy macdonald is upset her dad is working on halloween. her dad is even more upset he has to work. so, he does the best he can to make the night special for her. warnings, kids/children word count, 1240 words (a little short, i know. but i promise it's sweet!)

(gif not mine)

Halloween, no matter how old you were, was your favorite holiday. When you were growing up, most of the other kid's favorite holiday was Christmas, not you. Maybe it was that your parents went all out, or maybe it was that they let you eat all the candy you wanted, but it left a lasting mark on you.

So, when you had your first daughter, her second Halloween (the first you really celebrated with her), you went all out. You and Ross dressed up as poppies and Poppy was a gardener. She had no idea what was going on but she found it hilarious that her parents were wearing weird big flower things on their heads.

Now, Poppy was four, and her little sister, Willow, was 10 months old. Poppy had inherited your love for Halloween and by August had her Halloween costume planned. She wanted to match with you and Ross which made you a little sad, knowing that Ross would have to work on Halloween.

When you did tell her he was working, she was sad but her mood brightened a little when you told her she could still dress up for the show.

She was very adamant about being Donkey from Shrek, so you did your best to make that happen. The band loved the idea of Shrek, so they each decided to follow in your daughter's footsteps and dress up as a different character and assigned themself different characters.

Poppy was Donkey, Willow would be Puss in Boots, Gabbriette would be the Fiona to your Shrek, Matty would be Lord Farquaad while George, Adam, and Ross would be the Three Blind Mice. John would be the Dragon, Jamie would be Pinocchio, Polly would be the Big Bad Wolf and Gabrielle would be the Fairy Godmother.

Poppy was completely oblivious to everyone's costumes and was just excited to get to dress up and eat candy all night.

On the day, you walked around Detroit and got her some candy from a couple of stores that were handing it out before you headed over to the arena for soundcheck, one of Poppy's favorite parts of the concerts. She got to go on stage and dance around with her uncle and dad.

Before the show, after Ross helped you dress the girls, and after he'd left to get himself ready, Gabbriette came in and watched the girls briefly while you got ready, and took pictures of you and the girls before Willow started to cry. You soothed her then slipped headphones onto both her and Poppy. Poppy's headphones had a pair of donkey ears glued on and Willow's had a pair of cat ears.

You heard the intro to the opening song and held Poppy's hand as you walked to the side of the stage where you watched the show. Willow sat in the baby Bjorn comfortably and watched from the stage with wide eyes.

"Mommy." Poppy gasped when she saw the band dressed up as the characters from her favorite movie.

"I know." You gasped with the same enthusiasm as you bent down to her level, "Look at Uncle Matty." You giggled with her when she saw what he was wearing.

Ross looked over to the side of the stage and waved at Poppy, who giggled and waved back shyly. Poppy couldn't stop smiling as she looked at the band's costumes.

Somewhere in the middle of the set, Matty finally addressed the crowd and addressed their crazy costumes, "Now, I know we look a little crazy right because we're missing our main characters, but I'll have you know this idea was formed because of my little goddaughter. She loves Shrek, and I mean, who doesn't?" The crowd cheered at that.

"So, the littlest MacDonald is Donkey and her mom is Shrek. Strange, I don't know how we got there, but here we are." He shrugged, keeping everything about your daughter vague because he knew you and Ross didn't want people knowing too much about Poppy or Willow, "So, anyways, everyone thank Donkey for this genius idea." Matty and Ross looked over to the side of the stage where Poppy was beaming at the sound of the cheers.

The rest of the show went on as normal and right before Ross turned off the lights, Poppy ran onto the stage and over to her dad, which sent the crowd into a frenzy because Little MacDonald, Donkey herself, was on stage. The lights were strobing so there wasn't a clear image of her face which was why she was on the stage in the first place.

Ross picked her up and carried her over to the giant light switch that would turn off the lights on the stage. He waited a few seconds before he gave her a nod and she pulled the lever, shutting the lights off on the stage.

He carried her offstage and once she was in the safety wings, she was off and running to greet her uncles and godfather. Ross removed Willow from the Bjorn, surprised that she was still awake because it was way past her bedtime.

Now baby-free, you gladly accepted the drink Gabbriette was handing you, "She's gonna be up a while, isn't she?" Ross asked.

"I'm hoping for a sugar crash," You smiled, watching George pick up Poppy and run around with her like an airplane, "You did amazing tonight, by the way." You nudged him.

"Yeah, I had a donkey and an ogre to impress." He teased.

"I'm gonna save the smack in the head for later because you're holding my baby." You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I love you, too." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you followed everyone else into whichever room would be used as the afterparty room.

You rolled your eyes, "I love you, too, even if you're mean to me sometimes." In response, he placed a kiss on your head.

When you made it to the room, Matty was standing outside with Poppy, who was pouting, "Why can't I go in?" She whined.

"It'll ruin the surprise, Pop." He explained, tapping her on the head, "You like surprises, don't you?" She nodded her head enthusiastically, "Then just wait a second." Poppy turned to you and frowned.

"Listen to your uncle, flower," Ross told her. She frowned and crossed her arms, "Just wait a second." He laughed.

A few seconds later, Matty opened the door and nodded over to Poppy, "Cmere." She skipped over to him, gasping when she saw what was in the room.

The best part of Halloween, in any kid's eyes, was trick-or-treating, and everyone knew that Poppy was a little upset she was missing it, so in the biggest room in the arena, everyone spread out with little bags of candy, creating a makeshift version trick-or-treating.

"Here's your bag." Matty handed her a big bag before tapping her on the head once more. She didn't need to be told twice before she was running into the room from person to person, gathering candy.

You looked over at Ross, who was smiling with pride, "You planned this, didn't you?"

"Halloween's her favorite." He shrugged, before producing your favorite candy bar from his pocket, "Like her mother's." He kissed your head again, smiling as Poppy giggled.

"You're amazing, Ross MacDonald, you know that?" You smiled up at him.

"Says you." He nudged you, smiling equally as big and squeezing your shoulder.

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hornyhornyhimbos · 2 months

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can we get a glimpse into the future of how cowboy steve and reader are doing? do they still own the bar he bought for them and do they have kids? it would be cute to see steve have a mini him that loves to ride bulls

so so sorry for just now getting around to posting this!! more on that later but for now, i hope you enjoy!!!!

"When She Says Baby" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Excitement is high as the Harringtons celebrate the two year anniversary of opening their little bar. But for Reader, anxiety is also high as her yearly gynecologist's appointment rolls around…

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,285

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, breeding kink, daddy kink, sorta cockwarming but not really, sorta dubious consent (they're in an established relationship but were both tipsy beforehand), dirty talk, explicit language, alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i haven't really written a breeding kink before so if this is bad, i apologize // also really could've sworn i queued this yesterday so let's all pretend it's still filthy friday, ok??

Based On: the rest of this series and the ask mentioned above!

Originally Written: 06/23/2023 through 06/28/2023

filthy fridays | stranger things masterlist

Your veins had been burning all day with some mixture of adrenaline, excitement and anxiety.

It was the two year anniversary of opening Harrington's Honky-Tonk, which Steve had reluctantly agreed on calling it, and the day had been filled with preparation for the big party that night. Fans had come from just about anywhere in Indiana and the surrounding states when they heard Steve Harrington was celebrating the momentous occasion with half-off drinks and a big announcement at the end of the night.

Your day, however, started to go a little differently when you arrived at your gynecologist's office for your yearly check-up.

You weren't necessarily nervous because of something potentially bad. It wasn't like you were pregnant, you and Steve used two different types of protection nearly every time you had sex. And it definitely wasn't like you had an STI, considering you and Steve had been loyal to each other for so many years.

No, what had you anxious was the fact that you needed your IUD replaced. Or, maybe you didn't…

Every part of your brain knew you should've talked to Steve before the appointment about what route to take. You were a hundred percent positive that getting pregnant was nowhere in the cards for the near future. Still, some part of you knew having the IUD replaced wasn't what you wanted. So, instead of getting it replaced, you decided to simply have the old one taken out.

Some weird jumble of both guilt and relief fluttered around in your stomach the whole afternoon and into the night. The only time you'd found a tiny bit of solace was in the two shots of vodka you'd downed at the party, but toward the end of the night, it had certainly worn off and the feeling from before quickly returned.

Steve must've noticed, pulling you away from the bar and into the back room. You were tempted to down a whole bottle of vodka from the rack beside you rather than admit your secret to him, but thought better of it.

"You alright?" he asked, his hand brushing yours as if asking permission to hold it. Despite being married for over a year now and having been together for five years in total, he was still a gentleman. Holding doors for you, giving you the last of his fries, and asking permission on almost everything were practically daily occurrences with Steve around.

You nodded softly, despite being the exact opposite of that seven letter word he'd just used. "I'm okay, just stressed about tonight."

Steve's big announcement was the whiskey brand he'd been working on, and while you weren't all that nervous about the fans' reactions—you knew it would go over well, the way his fans adored him—part of you had still been a little scared about the financial aspect of it. Starting a new company was difficult—you'd both experienced that firsthand.

One of his hands moved up to cup your cheek, distracting you from your current train of thought. His thumb rubbed soft lines along your skin. "Hey, whatever happens happens, right?" he reassured you. He pulled you up for a soft kiss on the forehead, greeting you with an even softer smile when he pulled away. "It'll be okay, I promise."

'Whatever happens happens,' his words rang through your head like an alarm you wanted so desperately to turn off. Your mind wandered back to your secret, and hoped that those words would apply once again whenever you told him.

The rest of the night went by surprisingly fast and smoothly, you and Steve loosening up a little over some Jack and Cokes and a round of line dancing that neither of you were sure how you'd gotten roped into. His announcement even went over well—considering all the excited shouts and whooping that rang throughout the bar in response—and Steve seemed to be at an all time high when he pulled you toward the staircase.

In fact, you were sure you'd never seen a smile as big as the one Steve was sporting as he picked you up bridal-style, carrying you up the stairs and into your shared apartment.

The two of you had originally planned on buying a house in a nearby neighborhood, but when things fell through, you both realized just how much you liked the idea of turning the upstairs area of the bar into an apartment. Flash forward two and a half years and now, the place was transformed into a cozy little one bedroom apartment, littered with Steve's various awards and many, many pairs of cowboy (and cowgirl) boots.

Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, a gentle smile tugging at your own lips as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Seeing Steve so excited was almost enough to distract you from the impending news you had yet to deliver.

Steve set you down on the floor, his hands making their way to your hips while his mouth locked on yours. "Did you know I love you more than anyone has ever put into words?" he asked between kisses, one hand traveling from your hip to your ass. It had been so long since Steve had gotten tipsy, you'd almost forgotten how frisky alcohol could make him.

Guilt twisted into a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. Pulling away, you decided it was best to just rip off the band-aid. You couldn't hold back any longer, you felt like you'd explode if you did. "You can't say things like that when I'm about to tell you something that'll make you hate me forever."

His face softened as he stepped closer to you. A gentle kiss brushed over your forehead before his eyes greeted yours. "I doubt you could ever do that," he countered, his hands moving back to your waist.

Your eyes parted from his, looking down at his boots and wondering just how you of all people got lucky enough to marry the best man in the whole world. A deep sigh left your mouth before the words you'd been dreading followed. "I went to the gyno today."

"Oh, yeah, your yearly appointment was today. How'd that go?"

You forced your eyes to meet his, and the remorseful feeling in your stomach twisted and writhed even harder when you saw the soft honey color that had settled in them. After that, the words tumbled out so fast that even you couldn't believe he had that much of an influence on you. "She took out my IUD! There, I said it! Stop looking at me like that!"

A string of chuckles tumbled from his lips as he bent down, his mouth melding to yours again. You couldn't lie, you were definitely shell-shocked from this unexpected reaction.

"Don't you get it?" you all but screamed as your mouths parted. "She took it out! As in, she didn't replace it! Doesn't that make you the least bit angry with me for not asking first?"

Steve shook his head as the grin from earlier made its way back to his mouth. "No, it doesn't. It's your body, you can do whatever you so please with it. It does mean a lot though that you care about my opinion so much."

Guilt was overpowered by the biggest wave of love you'd ever felt for this man. "You do realize we have to be extra careful now, right? Like, no going without a condom, taking morning after pills, the whole nine yards of precaution."

The honey color that swirled in his irises quickly turned to a lustful black. "Who said?"

You felt like you were experiencing whiplash from the amount of different emotions you'd felt in the past five minutes. You couldn't lie, you weren't opposed to having kids, but you had been absolutely positive Steve didn't want them right now, so his words definitely took you by surprise.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but not a second later, Steve kissed away the confused crease between them. "But-"

He shook his head, already knowing exactly what you were going to say. "I never wanted to wait. Sure, a lot has happened in the past few years so the timing wouldn't have been great, but not for one second did I not want to have kids with you."

Happy tears filled your eyes as you pulled him down for a long kiss, adoration flowing from the top of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. His hands slipped into your back pockets as he deepened the kiss, his tongue all but forcing its way into your mouth.

You pulled him ever so close, your limbs entangling like they belonged to one another. His mouth moved away from yours and down to your neck, sucking on the pulse point and eliciting a moan. Steve chuckled, pulling you toward the bed but not once removing his lips from your body.

Somewhere along the way, he kicked off his boots before pushing you back on the bed. He tugged off your sneakers, tossing them toward the shoe rack, then making quick work of your jeans. "What do you say?" he asked, kissing you again, harder and needier than he had before. "Do you want that?"

"Please," you all but begged, your hands meeting his back, nails raking the skin beneath his shirt.

"Please… what?" he asked, tossing off the skin-tight tee shirt he'd been sporting. After seeing the way it hugged the muscles of his arms and the dips of his chest and stomach, you'd been desperate for him to take it off since the moment he put it on.

Your breathing sped up as you thought about your answer. "Please," you repeated, "wanna make you a daddy. A real daddy."

His eyes were completely lust-blown by now, his fingers drawing tantalizing circles on your thigh as he leaned down to meet your still-clothed core with a soft kiss. "I like the way you think, princess."

He made quick work of your panties, his lips immediately connecting to your clit. He hummed in pleasure, the vibration only pushing you closer to the edge. Over the years, Steve had found all the perfect ways to unravel you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were cumming.

"Steve," you whined, your hands intertwining in his already messy hair. You guided him to where you needed him most, his tongue dipping inside you while his nose bumped against your clit. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.

He parted from you with a low laugh, your eyes rolling in both frustration and want. "Can't help it," he said, kissing your pussy again, "Gotta make sure she's ready for me."

His tongue slipped back into your hole, your wetness surely soaking the stubble that covered his cheeks. Moans and whines tumbled from your mouth, one after the other, until you were on the brink of falling apart. Your veins burned with arousal, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of their sockets when his mouth moved up to your clit, replacing his tongue easily with two fingers.

Fingertips grazed your G-spot, and in an instant, you were coming undone, all but screaming his name as you came on his tongue.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out before holding them up to your parted lips. "Suck," Steve instructed, dark eyes meeting your glassy ones. You didn't hesitate, swirling your tongue around the digits and taking in the taste of your essence.

You worked to control your breathing as his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head, his eyes nearly popping out at the sight of your breasts and the way they all but spilled out of your bra. "Just think," he started, pulling one of them out of the cup and palming at it, his fingers twisting the bud and drawing out a mewl from your lips, "Gonna be so pretty and big." Steve was a huge fan of your boobs anyway, but you knew he was going to be utterly obsessed with how big they'd get if or when you got pregnant.

His lips wrapped around your nipple while he palmed at the neglected one. Your eyes rolled in desire, a small, "Fuck," falling from your lips.

Steve forced himself to remove his lips from you, knowing he'd stay there for hours if he didn't. He shoved his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, throwing them in the general direction of the bathroom. His cock sprung up, and you swore you'd never felt as carnal for him as you did at that moment.

"You ready?" he asked, being ever the gentleman. You nodded and in a second, he was pushing inside you. Groans and expletives tumbled from Steve's lips, his head falling forward as he slowly slid in. "Fuuuck," he sighed heavily, "I love you."

"Not as much- shit- as I love you," you exhaled, shifting your hips and chasing down the rest of his length. The crescent moons of your fingernails dug into his back, surely on the verge of making him bleed.

He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, beginning to create that perfect rhythm only he knew how to provide you with. "Yeah? Love me so much you're gonna- fuck- carry my baby around? Let everyone know who got you in that state?"

A soft whimper slipped from your tongue as you managed a nod, rutting your hips in an attempt to speed up Steve's motions.

"So needy," he teased, canting his hips faster, fast enough to catch you off guard. His cock brushed your sensitive spot, your back arching off the bed in response. "Just so ready for me to fill you up, huh?"

You whined, pulling him down with one hand while the other still scraped at his spine. Your mouths connected in a messy kiss, surely leaving your lips swollen when he pulled away. "Please," you begged again, "fill me up, daddy."

A guttural groan rolled off his tongue as his hips pistoned harder, his heavy balls slapping against you as he chased down his high. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart," he replied, his lips meeting the dip of your breasts. "Gonna get you all pretty and full, over and over again. Gonna remind you of the only man that can fill you like that."

Your pussy fluttered around him, your orgasm quickly approaching. "Fuck, Steve!" you exclaimed, surely loud enough for the people downstairs to hear. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, baby," he said, somehow making the phrase sound encouraging yet filthy at the same time. "Cum all over daddy's cock, yeah?"

Whimpers and moans tumbled off your tongue as you fell apart underneath him, your hands grasping at his shoulders to steady yourself. Your toes curled, digging into his hips and pulling him even further inside you.

His hips rutted in a sloppy rhythm and you knew it wouldn't be long before he was cumming too. He sucked a harsh kiss on the dip of your neck, surely leaving a hickey in his wake. "God, you're gonna be so pretty. All knocked up with my babies. Showing everyone how willing you were for me to fill you up and fuck you right."

His name fell from your lips like a record stuck on a loop, a mantra you needed in order to survive. The overstimulation was too much and not enough all at once, your eyes crossing in pure pleasure as yet another orgasm built within you.

One of his hands gripped yours, lacing his large digits in between your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing soft lines along the back of your hand. Steve stopped mid-thrust, his previously dark eyes turning to gentle ones, and you swore you saw tears forming in them. He took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss you, a soft kiss so different from the rough, longing kisses from before. A smile pulled at his lips when he moved away, his eyes meeting yours.

"You sure about this? Last chance," he kidded, but you could tell there was some seriousness hidden behind his playful tone.

You nodded before kissing him again, your opposite hand slipping into his hair again and giving it a gentle tug. "I'm ready," you reassured him, now nearly on the brink of tears yourself. "Been ready since the day I laid eyes on you, cowboy."

He pushed back in, slowly building back up his pace and working both of you back to the brink of orgasm. His lips parted into an open 'O' as he thrusted one last time, emptying all that he had inside you as you climaxed for a third time.

It was by no means the first time you'd gone without a condom, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was knowing that you no longer had an IUD, maybe it was the risk of it sticking this time. Whatever it was, it had you feeling a closeness to Steve that you weren't sure you'd ever felt before.

He flipped the two of you over, allowing you to fall limp on top of him. Your chests heaved in lousy attempts to calm your breathing, the only noise filling the air being that of your exhales. His palm abandoned yours, moving up to your back and sliding soft lines up and down your spine. Parted lips greeted your scalp with a gentle kiss, before they moved down to your forehead, finally stopping at your own lips as he turned your face towards his.

"Stevie?" you said, looking up at him through previously mascara-coated lashes, the makeup surely having been sweated off by now.

"Yeah?" he answered, grazing another peck across your forehead.

You hated to ruin the moment but… "I need to pee."

A goofy grin formed on his face as he rolled you back over, gripping his hands around your thighs and keeping you wrapped around him. His cock was still buried inside you, still pressed against your sweet spot, still finding a way to make you moan despite barely having moved. "Sorry, can't do that."

Your head fell back against the mattress, a frustrated growl falling your lips. Sure, you weren't really all that frustrated—you could eat, sleep, and breathe with Steve's dick buried inside you and it still wouldn't be enough—but you really did need to pee, and you knew this was the only way you'd get him to pull out. "I'm gonna piss all over you and the bed if you don't let me move."

A sly smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Kinky," he chuckled, "I like that in a woman."

You couldn't help the snicker that he elicited out of you. Still, you shook your head in protest. "Please? I really do need to pee."

"Gotta make sure it sticks," he countered, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

This time, a smirk pulled at your lips. "I doubt it won't stick, considering how hard you just fucked me," you argued. "But I'll tell you what. If you let me go pee, you can try again," you paused, kissing his neck, "and again," a kiss on his earlobe, "and again," a final kiss on those plump, pink lips you loved so much, "until it finally does stick. How 'bout that?"

He slowly pulled out, low mewls exiting both of your mouths in sync. Steve moved just enough for you to stand up, his palm slapping your ass playfully as you began to walk away. "You wanna know something?"

"What's that?" you asked, flicking on the bathroom light.

He followed you into the bathroom, his eyes turning dark once again. "I like the way you think, cowgirl."

So... surprise??

I really did mean to post this however many months ago when I got the request. But I guess I was just never really happy with this fic and I wanted to re-write it or just trash the idea and start over but nothing really ever felt right. So I'm sticking with the original and hoping you guys enjoy! I have so much more to come for this cowboy and his girl but for now, this is where they are.

To the anon who requested this, I hope you're still around. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

60 notes · View notes

jaiden-zhou · 6 months

Text

(3) casual iso <3

contents: headcannons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes, self indulget

this should tie this mini-series up haha unless..

also, i just threw some stuff in through google translate and it might not be accurate, just lmk lol

i said this too a little while back but if you see a uniqlo employee maybe it might be me lol

i procrastinated so hard on this lol

part 1, part 2

iso who, even after what happened at the tea shop, still is trying to build up the courage to properly ask you out, even after knowing you feel the same

iso who still is very subtle with his affection towards you, even when acknowledging you both like each other, occasionally holding hands under the table, hugs that last a little longer than normal

iso who at this current stage is not very good at initiating affection and anything physical is started from you, but it isn't unwelcomed.. please.. keep initiating it.. he's still really shy

iso whose affection is more often shown verbally, even still a bit quiet "you look really nice today.." "i missed you," "rúcǐ měilì (so beautiful).."

iso who stumbles over his words, red-faced and eyes averted for his confession "i want to be your boyfriend.." (he got jealous again)

iso stated, you think you hear a little bit of desperation in his voice and finally sighs a breath of relief (even though he already knew, baby's a little nervous) when you said you wanted to be his <3

iso who becomes more secure and even a little more confident in your relationship with him !

iso who starts silently holding your hand in public, he says it's because he doesn't want you to get lost or something like that,,

iso who likes to pull you by your side so you'd avoid running into anything, usually. (sometimes he just likes to feel you close and see that slight blush on your cheeks for once)

iso who still sometimes gets a little jealous

iso who keeps pda at a minimum to holding hands and maybe sneaky quick kisses

iso, if jealous, will hundred percent latch to you from behind, arms firmly around your waist with an indifferent expression on his face while you're still mid-conversation with someone (who is taking up too much of your attention he feels)

iso who likes to call you other things besides your lovely name, like 'dear', 'love', 'darling', 'tiánxīn (sweetheart)'

iso who likes physical touch like cuddles every night after work, intertwined fingers whenever possible, kisses of any kind behind closed doors

iso who just likes being really close to you <3

iso who makes a playlist about you, whether it songs that describe you, describe how you make him feel, or even just a song that he listened to while he was with you

iso who sometimes misses you when you work those long hours at uniqlo so he listens to the playlist wishing he was in your arms

iso likes going on casual dates with you, maybe visiting an aquarium or the movies, or just cooking dinner together and having fun in the comfort of his or your place

iso who likes shopping with you, he likes seeing the sparkle in your eyes when you spot something of interest. he thinks it's very cute

iso who gets a little flustered when you bring up wanting to do a matching thing with him, you two deciding on braided bracelets that both of you would make

iso's bracelet for you is with violet, black, and white threads that are a little messily braided together, he tried <3 while your bracelet for him is a little more cleanly done with colors of your choice

iso likes the idea of the bracelets a lot, he's very fond of them being made and exchanged with each other as a way of keeping close despite the distance. gives a lot of sentimental value to them (a way of him being a little possessive but he'll never admit it hehe)

iso, who even if the bracelet you made him doesn't match his style or outfit, wears it. doesn't take it off unless he's taking a shower (he wants to preserve it for as long as possible)

iso who still a little bit like a puppy in love, attention is on you, and is loyal like a dog, pays for you every chance he gets when you're not fighting back for the bill so he doesn't always be the one paying

iso who still gets flushed in the cheeks when you tease or outwardly flirt with him, again not unwelcomed but he is going to expect a kiss as compensation

iso who (it's pretty funny, and cute, to you) vehemently denies it when you tease that he's only dating you for your uniqlo employee discount

iso who is so poetically romantic and a little cheesy but is also so genuine and raw with his verbal affection to you that it leaves you a little taken aback with a hitched breath and pink cheeks <3

------

after a good little shopping session, wallets drained but it was alright, you two decided to grab a snack from a street-food vendor.

"you know yu," you pause to take another bite. "if i didn't think any better i would've thought you'd be dating me only to get my store discount haha,"

"nonsense," iso rebutted, not taking your teasing. "i could say the same thing about the drink discount i give you."

"haha, yeah you have a good point. it's funny though."

"mm even then," iso takes a small piece from his snack. "my adoration for you is deeper than the depths of the ocean, and farther than any star in the sky."

iso looks at you with such seriousness and intensity, yet his words are heartfelt and profound, it makes you flush for once and mouth agape.

"jeez, yu.." you use your free hand to cover your face as you avert your eyes to the side. "what, is this payback for all the other times i got you all shy?"

he gently guides your hand away from your face, moving in so close you can feel his breath. he tilts his head a bit and closes his eyes, leaning to connect with your lips for a soft peck.

"possibly," he pulls away with a small smirk.

"you know damn well i'm gonna get you back for this,"

"mhm, i love you."

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tags: @arzhelzoe @animeisforkings

#iso x reader #iso fluff #iso valorant #valorant iso #valorant #valorant protocol #valorant x reader #i gave up at the end lol #zhou’s daydreams

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nostxlgicrose · 1 year

Text

☆ Star-Shaped Seelie ☆

Genshin Impact Ensemble x Child!Seelie!Reader

Synopsis: You decide to do some experimenting without your family watching. Your little experiments catch some attention, though.

Note: here we go guys, we going straight into it 🏋🏼 oh and by the way, if you want to be added to a taglist for this series, lmk in the asks or through my inbox!! 🫶

Warnings: affection-deprived reader, child reader, seelie reader, PLATONIC relationships, hilichurls, maybe possibly ooc

< Previous Chapter

Chapter 3: Flowers Are Underrated

"Where's Mister Goblin?"

The next few days were a blur as your hilichurl family packed up and began moving away from their home camp. Considering what you had overheard last night, you weren’t surprised to see that you were all on your merry way to a whole other area. You were now camping in a more open field, away from the strange temple…thing.

One morning, though, you were a bit shocked to find that your family of hilichurls had halved in number completely. You noticed Mister Goblin was one of them...even their supplies were considerably shortened compared to last night.

You quickly found out that your sudden move was linked to the visit from that icy abyss mage. You thought the big, scary lawachurl was the leader of all of them. Apparently some tiny bird-looking creature was scarier than him, funnily enough.

You also figured out that Mister Goblin was out in a party of other hilichurls to do something. Maybe they were hunting, or doing a thing the big, scary abyss mage was telling it to do! These were all just guesses, but you supposed you’d see him later today.

But the abyss was no matter to laugh about. Their aura was imposing and dark...just being in their presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. You had a strong feeling that meeting them would cause problems.

"Okay, time to be a big kid now..." You huffed to yourself in determination.

With your hilichurl mask still strapped to your head, you decided to sneak off towards the stone arch you had come from. Your plan was to continue trying to shift between your two forms, and you thought doing it next to the structure would help. Informing the hilichurls of your leave would cause at least one of them to follow you (you never left without company), and you didn't want them finding out about your other form...yet. You still had to be the magical superhero with a secret identity!

That wasn't the only reason, though.

With every passing moment in this world, you felt...different. Thinking upon your past would cause your thoughts to become clouded, as if your brain was trying to hide it from you.

An example was what had happened the day you arrived. When you arrived through the arch, you went to sleep with a fired-up will to go back and bring your cousins in this new world to play. That was always your reaction to new things—you'd want to share them with the two who you saw as siblings you never had.

But when you woke up the next morning, that spark had disappeared. Your first thoughts consisted of how to adjust to this new world, and you only remembered your need to see your cousins later in the day.

Perhaps it was no longer a need anymore, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Scared? Confused that your tiny brain was making you forget things?

Even now, you could feel something clawing at your head. Just thinking about it now was already starting to make your head hurt. Your mind was constantly racing with thoughts and questions, but it also felt like it was trying to erase certain things.

And maybe it succeeded, because you couldn't even remember what you were trying to think of earlier.

You floated next to the arch, examining the structure with a squint. You floated through it—nothing. It was just some ruined arch. Just strolling on through didn't take you back home.

You should've been scared. Upset, even. But you weren't. You weren't sure if it just wasn't hitting you yet that you were stuck here, or if you didn't care.

Or maybe you just couldn't remember why you should be terrified.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts as you looked around. No one was there—you were free to test things out now!

"Day two...operation un-jellify is underway!" You called out confidently, though your words, as per usual, came out in squeaks and chirps. That didn't deter you, though, as you pumped your tiny jelly fists into the air. "...Maybe I shoulda made a plan first."

Nevertheless, you looked around the area for ideas. You tried spinning around, doing tricks in the air...you twirled around you physically couldn't continue, leaving your vision spinning for three minutes straight. You even tried screaming—

Nothing.

You groaned, flopping onto the grass tiredly. You've been trying for so long! Nothing was working, and it's been hours since you've started!

(It's only been five minutes.)

You quickly dragged yourself off the ground, not only because you were ready to try again, but you didn't want something to step on you. Yeah, you were flopped on the ground once before, only for the babychurls to accidentally trample over you as they ran by chasing a crystalfly. Not a great experience.

"I just wanna be a person again!" You teared up, punching your tiny fists against the stone arch despite it doing nothing to the surface. It's not like you were trying to break it, but still...it made your mood a lot worse as you had the sudden urge to see something break at your hands.

Were you being a little overdramatic? Yes, but you were far too upset to care at that point.

“Okay, I gotta focus!” You declared to yourself, trying to push away your frustrations. “You can do this…maybe.”

Clearly, trying to change your form by thoughts alone wasn’t enough. You’ve thought of becoming human multiple times during your stay, and that didn’t change you back. Screaming out transformation words didn’t seem to help either. What else could it have been?

Maybe there was something you needed to…interact with? A magical object?

You looked around the area, floating aimlessly around. You began to drift from the stone arch, and found yourself back at your original home camp near the large temple.

“What a big scary house,” You muttered as you looked up at the stone building, which was glowing an intimidating red. “Wonder who would live in here.”

But the doors wouldn’t budge. You decided to lay off the scary building and explore elsewhere, but there wasn’t really much to see in these ruins.

“Ughhh.” You found yourself floating aimlessly in the air, groaning in frustration. “Maybe I can’t do anything. Am I stuck as a tiny yellow jelly rabbit forever??”

The thought was terrifying. You liked your hands! The ones with five fingers! Your legs were nice to have, too. You just wanted to be able to talk, or something…! You flopped your body onto a nearby stone sculpture, resisting the urge to have a breakdown.

‘Huh, what a weird stone thingy,’ You mused as you wriggled inside the structure, fitting very snugly into the open top. ‘What a comfy space. Maybe I should ask Mister Goblin to bring this back to—‘

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something shift. Your eyes shot open as you realized that you were no longer feeling the cool, smooth surface of the stone, but rather, you were practically ejected from the comfy statue.

“Hey! That’s not very nice!” You scolded the statue with a frown, only to freeze in realization.

You could…hear yourself talking. Not the strange squeals and babbling, but your voice.

"I-It worked?” You raised your hands up in front of your face, flexing your fingers as you almost cried at the sight. “It worked! I dunno how it happened, but I’m not a jelly anymore!”

You were so excited, that you grabbed ahold of the random boy who appeared out of nowhere’s shoulders and shook him eagerly without thinking straight. "Mister Strange Guy, it worked!!!" You couldn't help but laugh, relieved that you were truly not stuck as a rabbit jelly like you thought.

Wait…there was a stranger?

“WAHHH!” You screamed, jumping back in fright as you hid behind the stone statue. Now that you looked at it, it was pretty small. “Stranger danger…”

The strange boy's wide red eyes stared down at you, blinking curiously. But there was also a bit of concern in them. "...Um…hello. Razor was told there was…a falling star. From the sky."

A falling star? Well, whatever it was, you definitely wanted to see it! Or…maybe he was referring to you. Did he see you try to plunge like a meteor down to the ground earlier? Whoops.

"Oh..." You smiled nervously, trying to think of an excuse. It didn't help that you were trying to get used to talking again, after days of talking to yourself due to the language barrier. And on top of that, you were just realizing that there were indeed other humans here in this world. "Ehm...I don’t know what you’re talking about! No falling stars. That sounds really cool though!"

Maybe you were just really lucky today, because he bought it and nodded slowly in understanding. The boy—Razor, you recalled, then tilted his head to the side. His messy gray hair fell across his face, and you idly wondered how it’d be like to brush through it. If you looked closely, you could probably see a question mark appear above his head. "...Oh. I see. But…why are you here?”

Scratching your cheek, you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I just wanted to explore…and…I was looking for a place to sleep. Yes.”

“Out here?” The boy looked concerned as he looked at you. “Not safe…for little child. I will help.”

"Heyy, I can—wait, help? You mean help me??"

"Yes," He nodded slowly. "I have iron claws and teeth of thunder. I protect you."

You gasped, looking at him with stars in your eyes. "Iron claws and teeth of thunder?! So cool! But I don't need protecting, Mister Razor. I can take care of myself very well!"

As if on cue, a small hydro slime popped out of the ground. You shrieked, practically crawling over the boy's shoulder to hide behind him. "I-It's a water jelly!"

The boy watched in confusion as he looked over his shoulder, seeing you look back up at him with comical tears streaming down your face. He patted your head reassuringly before turning to the slime, where he merely gazed at with an electrifying glare.

...And then he stabbed the slime with his claymore—wait, where did he pull that out from?

"Oh." You stared blankly at where the slime once stood, before looking up at the boy. "Umm...I was just...testing you. Yes. A test."

Instead of seeing right through you like you anticipated, Razor stared at you expectantly. You swore you also saw a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "...Did Razor pass?"

Your nervous expression melted into a grin, giggling as you patted his shoulder. "Yes, Mister Razor! You did!"

A pleased smile appeared on his face as he looked accomplished. He didn't say anything, but his aura seemed a lot happier now. He was like a cute little puppy who had just gotten a treat.

"Well, thank you for saving me, Mister Razor!" You hummed, before turning around and beginning to march off. "But I gotta go now! See ya!"

"Wait!" The boy called out, quickly running to stand in front of you as his lips were curled into a frown. "Stay. Cannot...protect yourself."

You spluttered, huffing as you crossed your arms. "But I...oh."

Right...the slimes. You didn't want to deal with those terrifying jelly things that were almost half the size of you. And with all things considered, you really didn't know what else lurked out there. Your hilichurl family was very insistent on keeping you where they could see you, which wasn't exactly a big range.

Though reluctant, you decided it was best to stay with him for now as you sighed with a nod. "Okay, fine. I'll stay with Mister Razor, but I have to go home before it gets dark!"

The boy perks up, before nodding in agreement. "Okay."

"Good!" You clapped your hands together, before placing them on your hips. "Alright, Mister Razor, guess we're friends now! And since we're friends—oh! My name is [y/n]!" You introduced yourself quickly.

"[y/n]," He hummed, before placing a hand on his chest. "I am Razor. The wolves are my Lupical. My family."

As you two began to walk towards the forest—Wolvendom, you learned it was called—you looked curious at his revelation as you'd never heard of such a thing before. "Really? You're related to wolves!?"

"Yes," He smiled. "They raised me. We live together."

"Woah. So cool!" You looked up at him excitedly, clasping your hands together. "Can I meet your family? I wanna see!"

“You…want to meet my Lupical?” He tilted his head to the side, a look of surprise appearing on his scarred face.

“Mhm! Pleaseee?”

You thought he’d shut down the idea as fast as it came, but instead, he considered the request thoughtfully. “My family is out. To hunt. When Lupical gets back, you can…say hello.”

‘Well, it wasn’t a no…’ You thought to yourself as you beamed, nodding. “Okay!”

With a pep in your step, you walked ahead as you became distracted by…various things. You stumbled upon a cool-looking blue flower, while Razor watched as you picked some up, and then…put it in your mouth?

Did you eat these sorts of things? He’s tried eating them before, too. He didn’t like it. He wondered if you did.

In reality, you were just trying to see if you would be able to absorb the little blue flower in your current form. You held it to your stomach, but it didn’t seem to work. So you thought, maybe the next best thing would be to eat it.

The flower had a tinge of sweetness to it as you munched down. It was only a bit though, so there was nothing special about it. As soon as you swallowed it, you sat there for a moment. Then another.

And then you felt it. The burst of energy that tickled your stomach after it went down, just like how it’d feel when you absorbed something. It must mean something, you were sure, but you just…didn’t know what exactly it was.

“I should eat all the pretty plants.”

You joined Razor back on the trail, but now you were practically eating anything you saw in sight. Whether it be another one of those blue flowers, or the tall mint leaves, or even those yellow sweet flowers you remembered from before (those were your favourites), you ate them all.

Razor was amazed to see you run around, stuffing your face like the forest was a whole buffet. Did children like eating plants? He mostly ate meat, but he did have the occasional vegetable (ahem, potatoes). Still…he knew most kids turned their noses at the sight of them.

Another thing he noticed about you was that you were glowing. Not so much that it was noticeable, but it was there. Faint. Maybe it was because it was bright outside? You seemed really shiny to him.

He also noticed the little rabbit ears above your head. They felt like jelly when he touched them. When he first saw you, he thought you were a bunny. You didn’t exactly smell like one though, so he ruled that out.

Then again, you didn’t smell like anything. You didn’t smell like an animal, but you didn’t smell like a human either. The only thing he really smelled on you was the wildflowers you were shoving in your mouth like it was your last day on Teyvat.

The rest of the walk was uneventful. The boy was rather quiet in nature, finding trouble in speaking due to his isolation from socialization. He tended to stick with his wolf family because of this, as being around others forced him to speak more than he was comfortable with.

This tiny, glowing child in front of him didn’t seem to mind that, though.

You were talkative in nature, he picked up on that when you babbled on and on about achieving something from sleeping (he still didn’t understand why). But he noticed your constant conversation was more so you ranting on and on about the most random things, without prompting him to answer any of them.

Of course, you did ask him a few questions…like the names of certain flowers, or about his Lupical. But it didn’t go any farther than that. He didn’t feel like he was being interrogated. You seemed to be content with him listening along to your mindless chatter.

He appreciated it. Whether it was intentional or not.

“Razorrr,” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, as he tilted his head at you. “Where are we going? We’ve been walking around in circles.”

“Oh.” He stops in his tracks, looking around. It seemed he got distracted. “...Sorry.”

You only smiled, patting his arm reassuringly as you looked up at him. “It’s okay, Mister Razor. Hey, I have an idea! Let’s play hide-and-seek! I hide, and you seek!”

He raises an eyebrow, frowning slightly. “...Hide-and-seek?”

“Gasp…Mister Razor, don’t tell me you’ve never played hide-and-seek before!” Your hand flew to your open mouth in shock, before shaking your head. “That’s not good! That means we absolutely have to play now!”

Despite his confusion, you walked him through the game step by step. It wasn’t that hard anyways, given the simplicity of the game’s objective, but you were unsure if he’d understand it. Mostly because you tend to ramble when you explain things, overdoing it and making it a lot more complicated than it really is.

But to your surprise, he nodded in understanding once you finished. “Okay. Razor understands.”

“Good!” You clapped happily. Well, if he got it, who were you to question it? “Now, count to ten…really slowly! Don’t peekkk,” You reminded him as he closed his eyes, and you immediately ran off to look for a hiding spot.

You knew not to run too far. You didn’t want to get lost, but you also just didn’t want to make it too difficult for your new friend’s first game.

As you looked around for a hiding spot, you looked up at one of the trees. Eyeing the indents in the tree, you wondered if you could…

Turning back to look at Razor, you saw that he was covering his eyes in the distance. You then looked back up at the tree, before launching yourself at the trunk.

With little time to spare, you did your best to climb yourself up onto the tree, where you settled on the lower branches comfortably with your back pressed up against the trunk. You got comfortable before looking down, holding back your giggles so you wouldn’t give away your location.

Suddenly, you heard rustling down below. The boy was running around, and you had to stop yourself from making any sounds as you watched him turn over a rock as if you were underneath it. You did notice that his nose was twitching a bit, as if he were trying to sniff you out. Which did make sense, but hey! Wasn’t that cheating?

Nevertheless, you kept quiet. He didn’t look like he was onto you, and you watched him pass by beneath you multiple times. There wasn’t any way that you’d—

“Found you!” You screamed when you heard a voice from behind, and your physical reaction almost made you fall straight out of the tree. Panic flashed onto Razor’s face for a brief moment, as his hand shot out to catch you by the poncho instinctively. “...You okay?”

“...Yep,” You held a thumbs up, before your smile melted into a pout. “But hey, you found me! Was it too easy?”

The boy smiled, nodding in confirmation. He was really just following your scent. He just got a little confused for a second, thinking you were on the ground. He just had to look up and see the faint glow from above.

“Aw, man. Guess I gotta find a better hiding spot!” You huffed, before poking the boy’s cheek gently. “Alright, Mister Razor! It’s your turn to hide!”

Razor’s eyes sparkled as he nodded eagerly, and the moment you blinked, he disappeared from sight. He seemed rather excited… “Wowie! That was fast! He must be super good at tag….”

You should definitely teach him more games later. Then you’d be able to play together! It’s been way too long since you’ve interacted with someone…in your human form, no less. You were excited.

After ten excruciatingly long seconds (it was only fair you gave him some time…you may have peeped just a tiny bit though), you finally hopped off the tree branch and started looking. You didn’t have Razor’s keen sense of smell, but you were good at seeking! You’d easily find your friends when playing, so finding the wolf boy would be a breeze.

You ran around looking up into the trees, staring into bushes and…okay, maybe you got a tiny bit distracted eating flowers when you found them, but you were still focused!

A quiet rustle caught your attention, and you whirled around to look for the source. There were bushes all around, but you squinted at one that moved a little too suspiciously for it to just be caused by the wind. You slowly snuck up to the bush.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed a spike of gray hair popping out from the green leaves.

“Boo!” You suddenly shouted as you pounced onto the shrub, giggling when you heard a startled yelp. “Mister Razor, I got you!”

The said boy finally popped his head out from the top of the bush, shaking his head to clear his hair of the small twigs and leaves that were strewn into the strands. He rubbed his head and glanced at you, before breaking out into a smile. “…Fun. Hide-and-seek is fun. Like hunting.”

You tilted your head, trying to piece the two together to see the similarities. Huh…now that you thought about it, hide-and-seek really was sorta like hunting. Except no one dies. “Oh, right! I see it now!”

The next words would die on your tongue as you looked up, seeing the sun high up in the sky. But it was now nearing the horizon, meaning it was a bit past the afternoon…but all you knew was that you should probably get back before your hilichurl friends began searching for you. “Okay Mister Razor, that was really fun! But I gotta go now. Mitamomma is gonna scold me if they find me alll the way out here?”

“…Mitamomma?”

“Mhm! So I’ll see you later!”

“Wait! But…you will be okay?” Razor stared down at you with worry, unsure if he should really let you wander off after the slime incident. “I can…come with you.”

“Uuhh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You laughed nervously as you recalled how…protective they were sometimes. One time, you tried introducing the new boar friend you made. You came into camp sitting on its back, explaining in incoherent squeaks that you made a friend after you shared a sweet flower with it. The hilichurls were not as welcoming as you thought they’d be, but they tolerated it as you fell asleep with your friendly boar that night.

…The next morning, it disappeared. Your family shrugged when you tried to ask, while some would even point into the distance, as if they were trying to say it ran away.

You were very sad about this, no doubt. But to cheer you up, they made you soup. The soup that day was really good.

They wouldn’t tell you what the secret ingredient was, though..

To this day, you made the assumption that they chased it away. Your boar friend was really happy with you, so there was no other possible explanation! You hoped it was doing well in life. Maybe it went back to it’s boar wife and children. Now that you thought about it, their protectiveness felt more like jealousy…because it wasn’t like the boar was trying to eat you or anything. At least, you hoped it wasn’t.

“Oh…okay,” Razor deflated at your rejection, his eyes casted down to the ground. “Will…Razor see you again?”

“Of course I will!” You giggled, patting his arm with a silly smile. “I’ll come to visit! You live in Wolfing-tom, right?”

He didn’t catch the way you completely botched the name. “Yes!”

“Then I’ll come back tomorrow to play again! I promise.” You held out your pinky, tilting your head to the side.

The wolf boy mimicked your actions, looking a little confused. “Um…”

“It’s a pinky promise!” You exclaimed, waving your pinky up at him. “Here, I’ll show you. Stick out your pinky like this, and…”

You grabbed his hand and brought it closer to yours, before linking your pinky fingers together. “There! A pinky promise! Now I can’t break it, or else my pinky will break!”

“W—What?!”

“Don’t worry Mister Razor, I’ll keep my promise!” You waved before running off, heading back towards your home. “I’ll see you tomorrow! Byebyeee!”

Although he remained surprised by your rather morbid words, he waved back at your retreating form. As you slowly became a simple dot in the distance, he turned back to walk into the forest with a nearly excited smile.

He just couldn’t wait to tell his Lupical all about you.

Note: hope this was okay! this series has been fun to write about so far ^^

Next Chapter > [WIP]

#genshin impact seelie #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #child reader #seelie reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #gender neutral reader

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firefly--bright · 3 months

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strangers.

✩‧₊˚☾

masquerade chapter one.

jean kirstein x fem!reader, regency a.u.

chapter summary ; how it all began.

chapter warning ; familial issues/abandonment, running away.

a/n ; im trying out a different writing style to match the theme of this au!! :') I don't think it's going that well, so constructive criticisms are always welcome. also lmk if I should continue in this style or just go back to my normal one!! :)

taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody @jeanscremebrulee @holding-infinity-and-a-book @happxme

☾ series masterlist ☾ main masterlist ☾ enter my taglist ☾

✩‧₊˚☾

the ackermans, despite their precedence, were kind to you. as much as they could find it in themselves to be.

their name was attached to authority and harshness; something you hadn't been a stranger to since birth, despite not being one of them yourself - a reality nobody let you forget. but then again, you wouldn't want to forget.

the late january nights were cooling on your cheeks, even as you were stationary, sat on a bench that was illuminated solely by one lantern. it would've been dangerous if you weren't cloaked, hiding your figure from the eyes of the rare strangers that crossed your view from time to time, no doubt for a smoke break, trying to escape their realities.

you didn't blame them. you were doing the same thing as well, sketching out the picture in front of you - a sleeping ginger cat. peacefully, it's belly heaved upwards, then down as it dreamt. your pencil glided across the page, trying to capture its fur. you were, by no means, exceptional. not as great as the artists you would see when you'd sneak out to go to galleries with artists that were recognized, unlike your own pieces. marked off as "anonyomous", without a home but with a creator that painted like it did have one. a home, a place to go back to.

you rub the eraser dust away with your fingers, sinking into your seat, looking back up at your subject who was peacefully unaware of your observation.

"you're here again." a voice remarks.

you know this voice. you look to your right, where it's coming from. his own figure was hiding with a thick long coat, buttoned up till the top. a brown hat covered the top of his head, furling up and away from his forehead. the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink with the cold and his ash-brown hair peeked out from under his hat. his eyes were a halo of gold with the light of the lamp above you. you smile up at him.

"interesting subject tonight." you say, looking back at the cat. he turns to look at it too, humming. he takes a seat right beside you, keeping his own sketchbook in his lap, methodically, neatly. he looks into your sketchbook.

"you've made progress without me," he says. complains, really. it's endearing and you find yourself smiling.

"it's just practice, don't worry."

he scoffs. "I'm not worried." he says, lying straight through his teeth, flipping his sketchbook open to an untouched page.

his first mark is just like him - precise and calculated. you've noticed it, through the weeks you've known him, that his first line always remains. he may go back and erase other strokes, adjust some others, but the first one remained the same, unchanging. he hesitates before drawing it, however, twisting his pencil between the fingers of his left hand before his decision, like he's marking off a territory.

it's routine. you pretend to be asleep in clothes that you're still not quite used to, watch as Mikasa lights a candle, helping Eren up from her balcony windows, making sure that she is distracted with whispered, secret conversations with the man before sneaking out, heading to have your own whispered and secret life at night. most nights it's this - meeting this stranger with honeyed eyes and cleched jaw. he spoke only when prompted to, but it was worthwhile. if you were brave enough, you'd ask for his name. but you werent, and it seemed neither was he. he must be too recognizable in this place, too hard to ignore.

he's too hard to ignore right now as well, when you sit in silence and the only sounds you hear are the gentle scrapings of hard and soft led - the stranger liked more feathery charcoal - against rough parchment paper. your shoulders keep brushing with every stroke, as they did every time. it sends warmth through your body against the cold night, but you don't mention it in words. you're not sure you can, even if you were allowed to, you couldn't dare put it into words and let it be known and tangible.

the stranger sighs. "how did you do it?" he asks. his voice fogs up the air around his mouth.

you look at him. maybe the mystery around his being is why you feel the way you do around him. maybe if you know him, you'd feel less. but how much power can a name even posses? you know everything he'd allow you to, and for now it was enough. you knew that his favourite scent was that of the lavender oil that he'd dot on his collarbone on special occasions only because his best friend had told him to. you know that he did not care much for sweets, except those that his mother rarely made for him and his company, you knew that he had a scar on his ankle after having it be broken running away from a horse as a child, too scared to brave the act of riding one. everything he'd tell you, you'd hang on to like it was your purpose.

he's your friend. the first one you had made that you did not owe anything to.

"do what?" you ask him, tilting your head to one side. his eyes trail down to your unfinished sketch.

"make it feel alive." he asks, again, as his left hand sets his lead down on his lap in favour of feeling your page. you hum in thought as he touches your drawing's fur.

"do not think over it too much. layer, keep adding until it feels right." you say. you don't have much advice to give after doing art for so long. it feels like a muscle memory and not like the power that people would try to convince you it is. it doesn't feel like something you wield to create but something that you had known since you were born.

maybe you were born with it.

he shifts in his seat and his left hand rests on the back of the bench, behind your arms. not touching you, but enough for you to know that he is persistently there, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his obvious attempt at being a flirt - another thing you had noticed. "it never works the way you make it work."

"blind flattery will not get you far," you tell him, looking at him in his eyes, and he stares back, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"i do not need to go far."

"clearly," you mutter.

he scoffs, falsely offended.

the night continues and so does the light banter and shared smiles.

he feels light. despite your surroundings being dark and clouded, despite there being several thousand things you should have been worrying about, he makes you feel like you are floating in the gently blowing wind.

you were a thing meant to be kept this gently. you were satisfied, greatly so, to be in his presence while doing the one thing you had truly enjoyed. a space that could not be destroyed, understanding without any transaction being made.

if only you could spend more time with him, like this, without his name, without your name, only the small differences that set you aside from everyone else. the two of you existed as mere symbols of each other, mere faces that knew and saw each other despite your last names, the people you were supposed to stand for.

you might've regretted spending all these late nights with the nameless stranger, considering the ungodly hour at which you had to wake up. just before the sun rises, you were required to do the same tasks that concerned your scarce colleagues. helping dry the clothes, helping make sure that everything was set for when Mikasa would eventually wake up to her own morning regrets, setting the soaps for her bath and ironing her dresses, laying out the jewellery she was to wear.

it suited her. you smoothed over her deep wine coloured dress, ridding it of any of its wrinkles, admiring how the colour would bring out her eyes that looked at you kindly under the guise of being indifferent. you'd been glad the day she found you - you were a teen, looking desperately for somewhere to belong to and you found her. crashed into her, really, because she was running away too. you still hadn't asked her what she'd been running away from, but one thing was for certain - taking a single look at her that day told you everything you needed to know - she was just like you. in the sense that she had the same, undeterred resolve of removing herself, finding escape in whatever obscurity she could find it in.

you had crashed into her, dropping the measly amount of bread in your hands on the ground on impact. it became dirtied with the heavy raindrops and mud almost immediately, and you would've berated her. you would've yelled and let out all your pent-up anger if it wasn't for the clothes she was wearing. they were wet but you could tell they were made from heavy material - a material that you had seen only important people wear. even if she tried covering the bottom half of her face with a washed-out red scarf, she looked like how she was supposed to look; the look you had decided to grow out of after running away. like a child.

scared and shivering, you led her to your meagre shelter with an arm around her shoulder, lighting up a small fire to keep her warm for the time being. you spent three days with her there. she left on the fourth day, and even though she hadn't told you about her decision to leave, you knew it would be inevitable.

what you didn't know was that she'd lead her cousin there, too. in your shelter - into the basement of an abandoned shop - the floors of which were scattered with paintbrushes and charcoals and empty tubes of paint. her family took you in and provided you of a newer, better shelter.

but you could not call it a home. it was not home. you never had one, you were sure of it.

the only drawback of this temporary... settlement, you should call it, was that you'd have to work for them. yes, the Ackermans weren't as harsh and cold as their reputation claimed, but that did not mean they were the kindest. surely a stranger could not be of the same rank as their own daughter, a fact you very well understood.

and Mikasa's spirit was as you had expected them to be after you had found her that day. she was stubborn over her softness, and made it abundantly clear that she did not wish for anyone else but you to be her handmaiden.

she is your best friend. but she is also your employer, a line you have to remember to tread lightly and carefully every day.

her drowsy voice calls you into her room from the bathing chambers.

wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you make your familiar way to her large room. you greet her squinting eyes with a smile, opening up the curtains to let the morning light in. the sun had made its way up into the sky as you finished your chores with its rays boring into the morning as it did every winter day. Mikasa didn't seem to appreciate it as much as you did, however, her hair unruly and unkept after tossing and turning all night.

"you'll feel less tired once you warm up a bit. i've already ran a bath for you," you tell her, and like clockwork, she lets her feet down on the ground from the bed, rubbing her wrist against her eye. she nods while doing it, letting you know that you are heard.

you strike a smile at her tired state, one that you relate to a little too well. you make your way towards her.

"here," you say, plucking up the hot cup of tea into your hands from her bedside. "this'll help you wake up. it's something new. Sir Arlert brought it for you. something about Doctor Yeager's remedy?" you say, knowing exactly what words to speak to bring her out of her dreamy state.

"Yeager?" she asks, her voice raspy. she takes the cup from your hand.

you know too well about her relations with the two boys. even if his post dubbed him to be "Sir", Armin Arlert was a man who could convince even the stoniest Ackerman to let Mikasa talk to him. even after the Yeager family was left desolate, the two boys never lost their nature, especially with Mikasa herself.

you hum at her question. "i think he called it...coffee? something along those lines. if it's bitter, I'll bring the sugar."

she takes a tentative sip and nods. "it's alright." she says. "thank you." there's a slight grimace on her face and you know what it says even if she doesn't say it; it's bitter, but it's tolerable.

Levi Ackerman wasn't as prude as people made him out to be. yes, he did have the look of a scoundrel who might've had daggers strapped into the inside of his coat, but you had wormed your way into his heart. you knew that for a fact because you had spilled milk on his cotton shirt and had, somehow, gotten away with it. all he did was mumble something under his breath, shaking his head before dabbing it away with a rag.

if it were anyone else, he would've led them to unemployment, but he didn't do so with you. he could have, it was within his right, but he didn't.

of course, you did make up for it. you went out into the darker parts of the town and purchased a small pouch of tea that helped with sleeplessness to help him ease his dark circles out. you knew of his issues with sleep, how he stayed awake into the wee hours of the night, roaming around like a ghost in his robes, reading a book that no-one knew the name of. you didn't know about what nightmares plagued him, but the tea you gave him seemed to help with that. instead of hearing his footsteps creaking on the wooden floors, you heard his sound snoring when you passed his room in the morning.

maybe it was because it was him that found you in that dingy basement along with Mikasa, helped coax you out of there, crouched infront of you and told you that you'd have a house to live in and a bed to sleep on if you follow him and Mikasa. maybe it was because he saw you grow up just like he saw his cousin grow up, from where you came to where you've reached. from wearing clothes that barely fit you, paint marks all over your face from pigment that wasn't safe for skin as sensitive as yours, to here. to clothes that you kept clean and ironed, pigments that you didnt let come near your face to prevent the rashes that you'd eventually get due to them.

you prepared his morning tea just the way he liked it, which was to say, only a dash of milk and no sugar. he wanted to taste as much tea as he could without diluting it, placing the cup on the tray along with all the other assortments.

you snuck a taste of the batter that the cook - Mr Berner - had prepared in advance as he frets over the cook of the eggs. Lord Ackerman, mikasa's stern father, deeply disliked uncooked yolks whereas Lady Ackerman disliked yolks that were solid throughout. thankfully, Kenny Ackerman bad gone hunting, and with any luck, would not be back until later in the evening. his hunting expeditions always extended to something else entirely, sometimes he'd return a little intoxicated. again, thankfully, he somehow managed not to raise any suspicions from anyone else.

"can you help with the juice if you can spare some time? Mrs Ackerman seems to be preferring it now-a-days." Mr Berner asks, turning his head to glance at you. you hum in agreement, helping the poor man by getting started on the orange juice. he has too much to do every day, with the kitchen being short staffed and new hires being dismissed due to silly mistakes that anyone in their shoes would make in their first week. Lord Ackerman had to be the cause of the hushed rumors that surrounded his family because of his last minute decisions made due to mild rage. if it weren't for his only child being on your side, you also would have met the same fate as the maid that left after not being able to remove the clothes from the rack fast enough before a thunderstorm.

in some ways, he reminded you of your own grandfather.

you finished up squeezing the juice our of the fruit as fast as you could before hurrying over to mikasa's bath, getting ready for her to get out.

luckily, she seemed more awake now as she accepted the towel being wrapped around her figure, heading to the closet.

"is there any more of that coffee?" she asks as you brush her hair.

"yes. it's kept aside just for you. was your talk with Mr. Yeager to your satisfaction last night?" you ask her, smiling at her through the mirror as she evades your eyes.

"it was. er- Mister Yeager is... nice." she says, small smile gracing her face that anyone else would've missed but you latch on to quickly.

"you might want to sleep earlier for a little while. so as to avoid suspicion," you say as she hums, playing with a string of her silky black hair. "i just miss him sometimes. after living next door to him for so long...." she reminisces.

"you got used to him?" you ask. in truth, you did not know much about the Yeager boy. all you knew was creditted to what you had gathered from over-hearing. something about his father running away, something about the legitimacy of his birth or lack thereof, something else about his brother forcing him and his mother to move to a more rural part of Paradis. what ever it may be, his life and his secrets and his stories, you hope he could find it in himself to be content. even if everything you heard was false, you knew all too well how a teen felt after being removed from their home with or against their will.

all you knew was that he made Mikasa happy. it didn't matter much to you about where he came from or how much wealth he possessed, all that mattered was that after the day was done, Mikasa could sleep with a smile on her face because of him.

Mikasa nods as an answer.

"his mother was kind to us. she'd make our favourite meals when we were tired after playing." she says, her smile more visible now. you smile back as you apply pigment to her cheeks, blending it out to be more natural, holding her cheeks in your hands after you were done. "beautiful."

she smiles and averts her eyes. "all thanks to you," she says, whispering.

you shake your head. "Lord Ackerman wants to see you." you tell her, remembering what he had asked. "seemed to be important." you say.

she sighs, getting up from her seat at the vanity. "sometimes I wish we could...live in a cottage." she says, smoothing out her dress with her hands, dusting off any stray hair or pigment. Lord Ackerman much preferred it when his family was well presented, even in the confines of their own home.

you smiled wider, indulging in her thoughts. this wasn't something new.

when you were only just getting accomadated to your living situation as a mere fifeteen year old, she'd find you, restless and preparing hot milk to rest better, trying to do the same for herself. you'd look at her with understanding, carrying two cups of milk and some cut up fruit up to her room, hiding under her covers, talking about an ideal life and why you'd like to lead it.

"I could steal some books for you from Smith's library," you tell her, and she breathes out a laugh. "and I'd steal you some good paints from Armin's parents." she says. a compelling case.

"and we'd have a cat. with a ginger coat."

"you know we can't possibly handle it,"

"two cats."

she laughs, a proper giggle this time, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with a fist. "alright. two cats."

"we'd grow catnip in our backyard."

"...I do not think that would work. as long as I get to read, I'll be alright."

Mikasa asked you to stay near the doorway of her father's study. you obliged, knowing that these 'talks' Lord Ackerman requested were more of a lecturing than anything. he prides himself in not being aggressive, but the passiveness of his voice and the looks he shoots his family over dinner for stepping out of an invisible, imaginary line prove otherwise. regardless, he doesn't raise his voice in spite of his anger or lack of it, and his presence in the house made you stand with your back pin-straight and chin bowed down. not because of the respect he so clearly demanded, but because of fear.

even now, standing right outside of his dark wooden door, his voice was nothing but a low hum, interrupted by mikasa's higher pitched voice. you could not eavesdrop even if you wanted to with the thick doors and his voice barely penetrating through them. sometimes you think that this house was built keeping in mind of this fact only - that the Ackerman family needed to keep any and all of their secrets locked up behind doors.

you played with the hem of the waistband on your skirt, digging it under your thumbnail and removing it before doing it again - a trait you had habituated since childhood. you used to do it with a silver necklace chained across the base of your neck, but now that necklace sat in a closed closet along with your other, more valuable belongings.

Mikasa steps out, opening the doors with ease, sighing after they're finally closed. you don't crowd her immediately; you know better than that. you know she needs space, so you keep your distance at a safe arm's length. but today was not like the other days this occured. no, because today, you felt it. the tension in the air, more so than usual, the back of your neck covered in light swear not due to working in the kitchen but due to being here, in this wide, cold corridor that held no windows, the air stiff.

and because, instead of asking for space, Mikasa opens her mouth to speak, as if it's a death sentence. you're sure it is.

"he has decided to marry me off."

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein x reader #aot #jean kirstein x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #jean kirschtein #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #armin arlert #levi ackerman

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

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Authors Note: A new mini series that I've thought about off of the top of my head, could flop, who knows but I'm excited to see how it unfolds. Please feel free to leave a comment or reblog if you're enjoying it, also if you want adding to the tag list for future parts/updates just lmk 🥰

Summary: Joe and reader have never seen eye to eye, growing up together and even further along the line in adulthood. There’s always been something lurking in the back of their minds. It couldn’t be, they share a mutual hatred and can’t stand the sight of one another. Surely, it’s been a long time coming but will the tension finally break into something more beautiful? Time tells all truths.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: slow burn, no smut just yet we're setting the scene here, reader does not like our boy (sorry) Word Count: 2.7k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @quinnypixie @thefemininemystiquee @winchester-angel @ayooooo0 @wonderheartz @avobabe87 @palomahasenteredthechat @chickennug90 @emma77645 @pepsimunson @figmentofquinn @ches-86 @sugarheart-riot @shawnamae87 @joeqnz @kayleeelena97 @etherealglimmer @birdysaturne @freakymunson @aol19 @coley0823 @lma1986 @eddiesgirls12 @poisonedluv @aysheashea @credulouskhaleesi @xlilithb

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

It’s true, you couldn’t fucking stand each other; you’d never been able to since the moment you laid eyes on him. You knew each other from school, sharing some lessons with him, having to bare the sight of him through your pubescent years and since the traumatic days of hormones and teenage dramas you’d never failed to find Joe on the television, you had eventually come to the conclusion that you would never get rid of Joe.

His stupid face, his smile and his eyes, the way his little freckles hugged his nose and fluttered around his features. The way his posture stood perfectly and the way his curls were scraped back perfectly when he’d used product. The way his oversized fashion sense suited him, never missing a smart shirt even if the odd time it happened to be creased had always somehow made him looked good. He bit his finger nails down to the core, he was perfectly imperfect and had a personality only the rarest of people seem to carry nowadays. Everyone seemed to adore him, everyone but you.

You even couldn’t stand the sound of his name, it infuriated you in ways you couldn’t describe. Joe-sef. Why wasn’t it spelt the way it was pronounced? His friends thought the world of him, girls would always leap themselves his way even in the early days of knowing him, it seemed the whole world was to be always served to him on a plate and you just couldn’t understand why it was every time you saw Joe, you had the feeling of wanting to scream in his pretty little face, scuff up his lovely head of hair, punch his lights out to see his reaction or just plainly to understand what all the fuss was about.

Joe felt the same way about you, he’d always thought you self centred, above everybody else and as arrogant as they come. A bitch. There was no denying he’d quietly thought of you as attractive, never letting out that thought way deep down but he’d never took the time to properly know you so he didn’t really understand who you even were. A little contradictive seeing as the situation was vice versa. He’d always followed you from his sights from a far with his deep chocolate brown doe eyes, the evil stare always cascading in the middle of your space in the form of a dead eye was the only way you'd ever seem to interact.

Even though this secret enemy to enemy based thing had been going on for years, you never changed your opinions on one another. You had lived close by together in the same neighbourhood in an all too close proximity where you could see his garden from your bedroom window when you were younger, where you'd often scowl when you saw him.

The sad truth in fact was when you'd unfortunately found yourself moving into the same complex as one another as adults, bumping into each other in the corridor, your front doors opposite. What are the god damn chances. Why in all of the grand city of London did you have to continue to live in the vicinity of this person. Was it something you'd done in another life to ruin your current one? You'd had to quickly shake off the thought of moving out before you had even progressed into your new home.

Joe shared his current home with his long time best friend Wesley, most people knew him and rated him the class clown, you could probably have thought of better back handed compliments to suggest. You'd hear them often stumbling in from nights out, competing to see who could be louder than who at 3am. On the rarest of occasions you'd hear the giggle of the unfortunate females who they'd more than likely targeted and fancied their chances at a one night stand with. Wesley wasn't exactly in your top ten either, the double act that they perceived themselves to be or in your case: tweedledum and tweedledee as you referred to them with a wicked smirk would at least calm you and give your brain some clarity. You lived alone, answering to nobody and living the independent life, just the way you liked it, peaceful and quaint; well when you weren't being heavily distracted by grown immature men that was.

If all of this was so apparent, why would you go out of your way to let him into your head a good chunk of the time? It was like the detestation had somehow formed this version of Joe in your head that you couldn't stop rationalising. Your own copy of the dictionary would of replaced the very word dislike with his name if you could republish it yourself. It was rare you even felt this way about anyone, but since you could remember you've just seen through him and what you think about his false pretensive ways just wind you up further. You've probably spoke a grand total of ten words to his face, which include excuse me if you wanted to get past, probably even though at the time there was more than enough room; you were doing it just to be spiteful.

You remembered your first day at your new place well. When Joe had caught wind that there was a new person arriving into the complex, a younger female gracing his presence above all else, you'd got a fellow neighbour assisting to bring your more heavier furniture from the moving van after offering to help outside. Upon seeing it was you who came sauntering around the corner, locking eyes with him when he was hovering against his open door to get a glance at the new potential 'victim', you'd been heavily avoided the moment he came to realisation that it was the bitch girl from school, not forgetting years later that you two were sworn enemies for no good reason at all. You noticed that Wesley had popped his head over Joe's shoulder to get a look in, but within seconds Joe pushed back with such force you heard a bump, sudden commotion and laughter, the door shut abruptly with a miniscule inch of a view of Wesley on the floor.

"What was all that about?" The older man looked confused at you as he carried your box inside.

"No idea." You shrugged it off, hoping to not get off on the wrong foot with at least one of the strangers who had stopped what they were doing to come to your aid.

You glanced at the sealed boxes that were perfectly labelled, the place bare and screaming to be made your own. You rubbed your hands over your face as your neighbour kneeled down to place the last box in the centre of the kitchen's space.

"That's the last of it. You need any more help kid?" Kid.

You offered him a grateful smile and shook your head. "No. Thank you for the help, would of been at this for hours if it weren't for you!"

"Name's Dan, I'm only a door away to the right if you change your mind."

"Y/N. It was nice to meet you."

He stood still by the door for a second, hoping not to make it too awkward of a goodbye by waiting for you to suggest for him to stay to save the day once more with the tedious task of unpacking.

"Well, see you around!"

Then you were alone. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back, a large inhale come exhale of the wonderful silence you were now experiencing for the first time today. It was a lot. You'd never dealt with this whole moving thing alone, it was something you had to come to terms with quick due to the fact your parents wanted you out of the house for good.

You settled down on the sofa which was conveniently provided to you by the landlords of the complex, luckily the majority of the furniture was already supplied so you wouldn't have the crappy job of forking out for new things just yet. Taking off your jacket, you decided that enough was enough for one day and that you'd begin again tomorrow. You placed it over yourself, lifting your legs up and edging down into the material to get a little more comfortable. Your eyes were heavy, nothing short of becoming a little fuzzy from the tiring events of relocation.

Once you'd eventually succumbed to the inevitable lengths of exhaustion, it seemed like you'd blinked and day had turned into night. The silence wasn't so silent anymore when you could hear the sound of music vibrating the walls and floor. You groggily scramble around to find your phone out of your pocket, clicking at the side button a few times to view your lock screen. You wiped over your eyes as you threw your head upwards to look over at the front door situated behind your sofa, your comfortable state slowly leaving you from the booming rhythms played on the outside. A small but intended huff from your nose escaped you as you could only now guess who was making all of the noise.

You stood up from your safe space, forgetting your jacket which was once placed over you now huddled around your feet on the floor. Picking it up and putting it on, you walked over to the kitchen area, turning on the tap to wet your face to make you at least feel somewhat human. Collecting yourself, you wandered over to the front door and swung it open, listening out to which direction the music was disrupting your hefty attempt at relaxation.

Your assumptions were completely correct in where the sounds came from. Now that you were only a few feet away, you could distinctly make out the sound of chatter coming from the inside of Joe and Wesley's flat, they were not alone. It infuriated you from the inside out that a house party was going on on your first night here, even more so now that you knew it was him hosting the god damn thing.

You moved forward and bashed your fist as hard as you could against the wooden frame, making your immediacy known to the idiots on the other side of said front door. You overheard an unknown male voice yelling at the top of his lungs over the loud noise. "Mate, there's someone at the banging at the door."

Not but a few seconds later, the entrance swung open and you looked up to see a half cut Wesley stood before you, gripping onto the door frame as he tried to make himself seem a little more sober than he appeared to be.

"What can I do you for?" An over dramatic hiccup followed. "I mean, do for you?" He asked with a stupid smile attached to his stupid face.

"Is this a regular occurrence?" You folded your arms.

"What?" You weren't particularly sure if he was playing dumb or was just that over consumed by alcohol that his brain cells had shrivelled up and died, the second option seemed more plausible to you.

"House parties at this hour." You weren't beating around the bush, you were in full adamance to get straight to the point and be done with this antagonising conversation, if that's what you could really call it.

"It's not even midnight love, don't get your knickers in a twist." He dropped the idiotic smile quickly and reverted to a scowl.

"Well some of us were asleep."

"Apparently not all of us though." You barely even realised you were rolling your eyes when you heard the all to sadly familiar voice of Joe standing guard behind his best friend who had clearly been awaiting his come-uppance to get a chance to make an unnecessary sarcastic dig towards you.

"Whatever, just please keep it down for my sanity yeah?" You intended on ending it there, but it was obvious to you now that Joe was refusing to let you have the last word.

"Nice to see you to Y/N." Joe smirked, your blood at boiling point almost immediately as you threw daggers his way. His chin was resting down on Wesley's shoulder, you're pretty sure in you own imagination your current fantasy was that if Wesley wasn't stood int he way, you'd of reached up and pulled on those disgustingly pretty curls that sat perfectly a top of his head, dragging him to the floor. Your subconscious mind was rooting for you, but instead you just stood there feeling rather deflated and repulsed.

You advanced to stick your thumb up towards Joe and turned around to go back into your flat before promptly being called back by Wesley, to both yours and Joe's astonishment, the way he'd said your name in such a subtle tone.

"Why don't you come in and have a drink?"

"No." Joe hollered. "No." You mimicked.

"Come on, just being a good neighbour." Wesley beckoned you with his hand. First of all you were barely dressed for such occasion, comfy clothes adorned with little to no make up and what was left was pretty poor from being asleep. "Right Joey?" They were honestly like a married fucking couple.

Joe made his groan evident, forcing the weight of the head on his shoulders to nod along to Wesley's good cop nature, if only he was just making the whole façade up, he wasn't.

"Honestly. Thanks for the offer. But I'm not bothered and neither's he." You pointed over at Joe who was now staring down at the floor like a told off child.

You ignored any more of Wesley's calls and walked away, shutting the door behind you, slumping up against it, annoyed at yourself for even letting yourself interact with someone you highly detested.

You went over to the boxes stacked around your kitchen, opening up one of them to pull out a glass for you to pour yourself some water so you could at least quench your thirst from the dried up mouth you'd conceived whilst wasting your oxygen in some way. Gulping a large amount of h20, a light tap came from your door, a blink and you'd miss it type of sound. You raised an eyebrow and dragged your feet over to open it, nobody was there. You stepped out to look around but the corridor was empty, your foot touched a foreign object that had been placed on the floor. Looking down to observe, a can of beer stood solo at the tip of your toes, not far from being on it's way to being knocked over by your heavy move.

You leaned down to pick up the can, squinting at the little post-it note that was stuck to it. For you, you can't hate him forever. Wes x

Was it that obvious to someone else that you'd always felt a strong level of regard with disgust for Joe? Apparently so. If Wesley was so adamant in being the peacemaker that made you at least acquaintances then he'd have to try a little harder than offering you a beverage by placing it and playing knock a door run. As much as Wesley had done your head in big time at school with his advanced levels of class clown-isms, you'd thought the note to be quite adorable in all fairness to him, so you took off the note, placing it onto the kitchen counter as a reminder that he maybe wasn't so bad when he wanted to be or the fact he'd maybe matured a little bit. Either way the can made it's way into the bin and you headed off to bed, refusing to think anymore of the whole ordeal.

#tell me how you hate me #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader

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artists-ally · 7 months

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{Smoke on the Water} Azriel x OFC {Pt. 1}

Okay guys I know it has been a hot minute since I did something ACOTAR related, but I really like how this turned out! As always, feel free drop your thoughts in the comments and in my asks!! Also the title is from this song and is basically my MC's themsong (it's so badass). Also also this is gonna be a series so stick around and if you'd like to be tagged lmk!!

Word Count: 6,132

Warnings: language, violence, blood, mentions of r**e, set after ACOSF, potential spoilers??? A lot of plot building for this part

Summary: The Inner Circle meets Prythian's fourth strongest and most powerful Illyrian.

~~~~~~

CASSIAN POV

“Cauldron alive,” I heard shouted over my shoulder. As I looked, I noticed one of the males in the ring with another. The first male, with short hair clipped down to his scalp, was bleeding from his nostrils quite steadily. The other male, with exceptionally long hair and much broader wings, thrust his foot into his abdomen.

Cheers and whoops sang throughout the camp, coins and bronze chips piled high on the corners of the mat. They were placing bets on the fighters.

“They’ve been at it for over twenty minutes now,” Nesta said. I had just gotten here after a meeting with Rhysand, I merely came to see how her trainee’s were doing with their new instructor.

Rhysand made it clear to Devlon that the females in Windhaven needed to have more to their unnecessarily brutal lives. In return, Nesta became the unofficial leader of the Valkyries. She took great pride in it; it glowed from within her when he suggested it.

I was here because she mentioned this specific Valkyrie she wanted to introduce me to.

“Have they now?” I quirked my brow, fists placed on my hips as I watched the two of them full on brawl. The male with the longer hair hand tightly wrapped bands around his fists, soaked in blood. From his or his opponents, I wasn’t sure, but it was so dark it was almost black.

“I told you I wanted you to observe her,” Nesta murmured, gesturing to the show before us.

That was her? Her frame was anything but feminine. But when they switched sides of the ring, her face was softer. Not soft, not supple and smooth, but she didn’t have a pronounced features. Dark hair and eyes and this feral expression within them.

With a final blow to the bottom of his chin, the Valkyrie knocked him flat on his back, an uproar rising from the crowd. She stood over top of him, shoulder rolling up and down with breaths. She said something to him, but I couldn’t make it out from here.

Maybe I’ll go find out for myself.

Other camp members threw up more coins and such, leaving them in heaping piles for her to collect. The bloodied and swollen male limped away, a look of pure shame, regret, and revenge on his face.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes as I passed.

“Khyra,” I called to get her attention.

“Lord Cassian,” she bowed her head. I returned it, taking in her exerted body. She wore no shoes and cut off pants. Her shirt was stained with the other male's blood. It couldn’t have been hers, she didn’t have any cuts. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve seen you’re beginning to leave quite a reputation behind,” I pulled down one of the ropes for her to climb through. “Nesta speaks highly of you.”

“As she should,” was all she said. As she stood in front of me, it was clear that she was certainly not built like the rest of the females. Not like any other female I had seen before, either.

The top of her head rested at my nose. Khyra’s hair was a lighter shade of brown now that I was up close, eyes to match. But her frame is what I couldn’t figure out. Her muscles looked more like those of the males, especially her legs and arms which were exposed to the humid air of the summer. She was riddled with scars and marks, none of which came from today’s spar.

“My mate asked that I come and watch your training. She says it is not anything she has seen before, in her few years of training Valkyries.” “I am most certainly not like the other Valkyries, Cassian,” she snorted, tossing on a longer shirt, folding in the ripped seams of her cut off pants.

“Clearly,” I retorted. “Is your training complete for the day?”

“Not at all.”

“Do you have another round in you?”

She gave me a wicked look. “I don’t know, Lord of Bloodshed, are you looking for an asskicking?” “You seem very sure about yourself,” I climbed into the ring. “If Nesta is as sure of you as she says she is, I don’t see the harm of asking for a fair fight to truly test your abilities.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game?” Khyra gestured to the injured Illyrian that was tending to his wounds a few feet away, sending us dirty looks.

“I’d want nothing more.”

I hardly even saw her move. She was just there in front of me in a split second, her hand striking across my face. My head jerked, but snapped back just as fast, balled fist flying towards her. Khyra evaded with minimal effort.

She was agile, limber and could throw her body into the air and deliver a devastating blow. The next few she didn’t land on me, but she rolled off the mat and took my legs out from under me. My hands landed behind me, propelling me forward as I lunged for her.

It was clear that she wasn’t just another Illyrian female. No. She was something no one had seen for a long time. Her punches were stronger, her kicks impossibly fast.

For what felt like hours– and what probably was– we spared. Sweat seeping out of us, mixing together when we’d collide like two ancient forces. Blood sprayed from our mouths, our noses and cut eyebrows.

The sun was near setting, an extensive crowd gathering around the ring, more bets being placed as to who would be the first to conceded.

Khyra whirled behind me and I spun a little too late. She landed a devastating side kick to my diaphragm and I dropped to the mat, clutching my chest. Her knee ground into my cheek and I sprawled on my back, eyes hazy and half closed. She placed her foot on my throat and pinned me to the ground, not enough to close off air but a firm reminder of what she was still capable of doing.

“How would you like to lose your pride? By conceding now or getting knocked unconscious by a Valkyrie?”

I groaned, blood streaking down my face and bare chest. I tapped the side of her ankle with lazy fingers and she released me from my pin. Khrya took the moment to admire her handy work; bringing the most powerful Illyrian to his knees was not an easy task, and I knew I’d never live it down.

Not that that was a problem. Clearly she is far better than any of us have realized. A warm pride simmers through me at the realization that Nesta was the one to awaken this in her. She was one tough fighter, I’ll admit that.

She was quick to gather her belongings, sending a threatening glance at those around us to get out of her way before she did to them what she just did to their commander.

“Thanks for the session, Cassian,” Khyra groaned, bending to pick up a canteen off the floor. “Next time, if you’d like a chat, a chair and a nice cup of broth would be much nicer.”

As she walked off, there was this presence about her. She was... lethal. In a way I hadn't seen in decades.

“Khrya,” a voice shouted, Emerie’s, “You did that to Cassian? Are you out of your mind?” “He started it,” she shrugged, tossing a shirt over her shoulder. I had ripped it to shreds when she speared me mid air; I was just trying to get a hold on her, but she was far more nimble than I was. Able to slip through my grasp so effortlessly. “He asked to dance so I showed him how to tango.”

“I’m not sure I know what that means but you might want to keep an eye out for him. He is not exactly known for his kindness and second chances.”

“Well,” she sighed, bending over to relace her boots, “If he does decide to go for round two, I’m sure he’ll think twice about coming alone.”

____

“Oh, Cass we were just getting ready to… what the hell happened to you?” Rhys grimaced as he looked at my face.

We made it back to the House in the next couple of hours, not without having Nesta tend to my wounds in the camp. My eye was swollen shut, bruises matching across my face, knuckles, and ribs. I hissed as I tried to gain feeling back in my severed lip.

“Nesta insisted that I go check out this Valkyrie, Khyra. Safe to say that she is not like the other trainee’s.”

“How long has she been a Valkyrie?” The High Lord asked, taking in my beaten and swollen face.

“According to Nesta and Emerie, just about five weeks?”

“Five weeks?” his eyes nearly fell out of his skull. “Five weeks and she did that? I don’t think so.”

“It’s true,” Nesta emerged from around my shoulders, a very amused look on her face. “Glad to see that she put a beating on you. You need it. And yes, Khyra has been training for just over five weeks now. At least with me. When the new trainee’s came signed up, she lined up with them. She cut the ribbon on her first day.”

“Should we be keeping an eye on her?” Rhys asked, taking up his spot at the head of the table. “Do you think she will overtake the camp? Gain a following and start a council?”

“No, she doesn’t need to be watched,” I groaned while getting into my seat. “All I know is that she is damn strong, we went at it for a few hours.”

Rhys gave me a look. I knew that look. Like it wasn’t the whole truth. “I'm serious, Rhys. she’s… she’s that good.”

“That may be, but I don’t know if I like the idea of her starting fights for money. We cannot afford to lose more people to this revolution that is already pressing on our weak spots.”

“I think you ought to go and speak with her,” Nesta takes up the seat to my left. “She’s far more powerful than you’re expecting.” I did not appreciate the gesture to my beaten and battered face. “What, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I thought you were on my side?”

“I am,” she rested a hand on my forearm. “But she’s my protege, am I not allowed to be proud of her for knocking your pride down a few pegs?”

I just rolled my eyes. “What do you think, brother?” Azriel just tipped the wine glass to his lips. “I think that any female who can make you look like that is a female worth talking to.” “Okay, when did this become ‘berate Cassian hour’?” “I don’t know but we should make it an annual tradition,” my mate grinned. I pinched her thigh hard as a warning for what would be to come for that remark.

“Cauldron alive, Cass what the hell happened to you?” Mor was not shy when she leaned over to look at my face better. “I thought you were just going to Windhaven to-” “I did,” I snarled, letting my shoulders sink down into themselves, wincing at the hurt. “Now can we all shut up and enjoy a meal?”

_____

KHYRA POV

There was a soft knock at my door and I stopped my chopping to answer it. On the other side were three tall, familiar faces. The High Lord, his Spymaster Azriel, and the Commander of Windhaven armies, Cassian.

All three looked mildly pissed off.

“Khyra, is it?” The High Lord spoke with an unforgiving coolness to his voice, violet eyes boring into mine. “Cassian tells me that you are rather well equipped and well versed in combat, despite only having been training for a little over a month.”

“Come to receive a set of shiners like him, did you?” I crossed my arms, leaning against the frame of my door. “Is there something I can do for you three or can I go back to the stew I’ve been prepping all day?”

Azriel’s eyes followed the trail of the design in my leathers. To the siphons glimmering in the glow of the end of the day sun. Cassian seemed to notice them in the same beat, as well as the High Lord. He straightened his tense shoulders.

“I’d like to personally invite you to Velaris, my home, if you’ll accept my offer.”

“Per what terms?” “No terms,” Rhysand shook his head. “A mere visit, if you’d like.”

I scanned them all, not truly believing his words. I pushed off my shoulder, leaving the door open behind me as I went back to my station in the kitchen. Their shuffling indicated that they came inside.

“I am honored, High Lord, but I am afraid I must stay here,” I sighed. “I now have everyone out to get me since I have made my intentions very clear in this camp. There are bastards who want to beat me, take my spot, rape me, clip my wings… you name it. I can’t leave my cabin unattended. And, before you offer, I don’t need a guard dog, so save your breath.”

“Your choice, Valkyrie,” The Shadowsinger spoke, his voice deep and raspy. “I suggest you take our High Lord up on his offer.”

I turned to look at them. “If I leave, they will burn my house to the ground and everything inside. Now unless you plan on repurchasing everything in here, recrafting centuries old artifacts and irreplaceable family heirlooms, then sure I’m all ears. But I cannot risk sacrificing everything I’ve worked and hustled for because of a visit.”

“I can make sure that there will be no harm done to your property,” Rhysand assured, a flicker of light in his hand. “Your belongings will remain untouched.”

I watched as he placed a barrier over my small residence, I could feel its power emanating around me, against my bones. It rattled my teeth.

“Can it be another evening, I don’t want my food to go to waste,” I contained my eye roll. I did not feel like traveling. I was sore and spent from training, still nursing some injuries from taking on the General Commander. Even a few weeks later.

“Azriel will winnow you in, see you at the house.” I guess it was not up for debate. Great, a good portion of my winnings from my fight against Cassian gone to waste.

I flicked off the stove, cutting off the coals oxygen supply so the fire would die out quicker. The High Lord and Cassian were gone when I came back into my main hallway, the Shadowsinger relaxed against the wall.

“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked.

“No,” I said.

“If you vomit all over my leathers I will forward you the bill for the cleaning,” he said very upfront. Jeez, this male had no sense of humor. Well, if I had scars like his, I’m not sure I would either.

I closed the door behind me, placing my hand on Azriel’s shoulder. The world dissipated, tendrils of darkness clouding my vision. Light streamed in, a magnificent house standing before me, a river running beside it.

All the hair stood on the back of my neck as I felt the powerful wards put up around the manor. I made sure to keep my mark on all of them, my four siphons glimmering with life against the darkness of my leathers.

I followed behind the Shadowsinger, my height nearly his. The shadows protruding from him circled around me, trying to draw me closer. I kept trying to shew them away, but they refused to budge.

“Apologies,” Azriel said, casting his eyes away from mine. “They roam, especially when they are curious.”

I just hummed, watching one disconnect and latch onto my fingers, swirling and darting around.

We came to a grand room, the High Lord and Cassian already inside, sitting in various plush cushions and chairs made to accommodate wings.

“Khyra, please sit. I have something I’d like to talk with you about,” The High Lord had a small smile on his lips, the facade now vacant as the stars shone in his eyes. “After Cassian made his trip to Windhaven last month, it has become clear that you are an elite Valkyrie, surpassing Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie in their training. It is a wonder how you became so vibrant with your power in such a short time. You have four siphons, that is well above the male average. And there hasn’t been a female to wield siphons. Ever.”

“Your point?” I shifted in my seat, muscles locked and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

The High Lord shared a look at Cassian, then to Azriel, as if to ask if they were ready to agree upon something they previously conversed about.

“We want you to join us, here in Velaris, and become a part of Court Assets. Officially as Commanding Officer of the Valkyrie Warriors.”

The words hung heavy in the air, floating around my head as I looked from the High Lord to his Illyrian counterparts.

“And what if I refuse?” I asked.

“Khyra, I highly suggest that-” “I said if, not that I was going to,” I interrupted the Shadowsinger. He surely liked to be a nuisance. “What if I don’t wish to command the Valkyrie?”

“Then that is your own choice, there would be no consequence.” “And if I were to accept?”

“You would work directly for me, living here, if you wish. Not in this residence, but in our House of Wind, or finding your own space, if you’d like. Or you could remain in Windhaven. Cassian and Azriel would be who’d train you on military tactics and war strategy. They are far better versed in it than I ever was.”

I, again, looked around the room, an unreadable expression on Cassian's face, but even more unreadable on the Shadowsinger. The air was tense, unwavering debate filtered in and out of me with each breath as I weighed my options in my head.

“What would my responsibilities be?”

“Training the new recruits, overseeing the Valkyrie training rudiments and things of that nature. Conducting recruiting events around Prythian, basic war simulations, and keeping the different camps from killing each other.” “Sounds really rewarding,” I didn’t stop my eyes from rolling this time. “This doesn’t sound like something I’d want to sign up for, I much prefer being a soldier, High Lord.”

“You will still be a soldier,” Cassian pushed off from beside Rhysand. “Even as your own legion of Illyrian warriors, the Valkyrie still fall under my overall jurisdiction. You don’t stop your training, it just shifts its focus.”

“So instead of getting to kick the lesser male's ass, I get to kick yours, fantastic.” I rubbed the space between my brows, “Fine, I’ll accept your offer. But I do not wish to leave Illyria, I don’t see a reason to.”

“If you change your mind, our borders are always open to you, Khyra,” Rhysand gave a final nod. “Would you stay for dinner? To meet the rest of our Inner Circle?” “Inner Circle?” I scoffed a laugh. I snickered, but the three Illyrians didn’t seem to find it as funny as I did. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t intend on becoming friends with your acquaintances. This is strictly business.”

“We are a family here, Khyra, and we operate as such. We have built a strong bond and it is what has allowed us to prevail time and time again. It comes with the job offer. That is not up for debate.”

“Fine,” I said flatly. “Are we done here? I’d like to get back to my cabin and change before I attend.”

“Yes, you are free to go,” Rhysand pressed his lips tightly against one another. “I will have Azriel winnow you back, dinner is in just a few hours and flying takes far longer than that.”

I didn’t miss the glare Cassian sent his High Lord as I followed the Shadowsinger out of the house. When we materialized in front of my cabin, I didn’t offer for Azriel to come inside. He didn’t follow, or ask to, thankfully.

But that shadow lingered, curled around my wrist like a never ending bracelet. It slithered up my arm and across my neck to the other, intertwining between my fingers and back. It was a cool sensation, leaving behind a night kiss on my skin, an echo of its presence on my body.

I changed into the finest clothes I had, which was a fresh pair of Illyrian leathers. Brand new, purchased just the other day from Emerie’s shop. She had taken to designing the Valkyries their own distinct patterns. My previous ones I stole off the back of some male during my time in the Blood Rite.

These new ones were even bolder than the last ones, its intricate scaled design curving around my body; up and around my chest, around my thighs and backside. I situated the emerald siphons in their casted holsters, attaching my Ribbon to my wrist, bringing my hair in the ancient Valkyrie way. I let the fish skeleton braid fall over my left shoulder, tucking away the shorter bits in the front.

When I emerged, the shadows came back, enticing me to the front of the door, right to where Azriel stood.

The male was a sight for sore eyes; his deep hazel eyes shimmering with flecks of deep brown. His hair stark against the plain gray sky. He was built more similarly to the High Lord, more lean than Cassian was. The shadows swirling around his shoulders, around the tips of his wings, writhing and whispering in his ear.

“We don’t wear our fighting leathers to these sorts of events,” he answered even though no question provoked one. He was a bit of a hypocrite since he was wearing his own. He must’ve seen the unimpressed look because he said, “I haven't had the chance to change.”

“I am proud to wear my leathers,” I stood my ground, meeting his eyes. “If you have a problem with that then I suggest you learn quickly how to keep your shadows to yourself, Illyrian, before I send them crawling back to wherever they came from.”

My threat didn’t go unnoticed, the emeralds thrumming with desire to emphasize my discretion. Azriel gave me a pointed nod, but winnowed back to Velaris, nonetheless. This time we ended up in a dining hall, a long table decorated with wine cloth and flowers stained the air. The setting sun filled the room with the most vibrant colors I’ve ever seen in my life.

A very stark difference to the barely golden hue Windhaven got on the day to day.

“The others are not ready yet, and I thought that Cassian and I should use this time to get to know you better,” Azriel took a seat by the corner, one of the four chairs that were made to accompany wings. I took the one across from him, the General coming in moments later and taking up the one beside him.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done a complete background check,” I snickered, jutting my chin out to the swirling dark behind the Shadowsinger.

“We have,” Azriel gave an equally bored sigh. “They just didn’t find anything relevant.”

“I am a pretty lucrative person, Shadowsinger. I don’t kiss and tell very easily.”

“We are well aware of that. When did you first come to Windhaven?” Cassian asked.

“I was born here,” I propped my chin on my palm. “Unlike you three, this wretched place is the only one I’ve ever been to. Besides Velaris, now I suppose, but I’ve never left.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Revenge,” I said coolly. “My father raped my mother, as I am sure you all are familiar with inside these camps, and I saw it justice enough to bring him to his own fate. That was last year, and ever since I’ve been training on my own. Emerie wouldn’t leave me alone in regards to the Valkyrie training. So I went, cut the ribbon, and kicked Cassian's ass. Now I'm here.”

“We’ve heard about you,” Azriel looked me up and down.

“I’m curious as to what you’ve heard,” I crossed my arms across my chest, tucking my impressive wings tightly behind me.

“We knew that you were quite the Valkyrie from Nesta’s tellings, but to see it in action is a whole other level,” Azriel started. “It is quite impressive to see a female of your height and build, and to see you move the way that you do. Cassian said it reminded him a lot of watching our High Lord train when he was younger. The fluidity of your body, the way your weapon becomes an extension of your arm. It is smoothe, and original. Not a forced practice like some of the others.”

“I feel as if that is precisely what everyone should be doing,” I countered. “Everything has to stop being so by the book and a lot more about energy and flow. About the why and less about the ‘because I said so’.”

“It takes some warriors decades to learn what you have in just a few weeks,” Cassian expressed, leaning forward on his elbows. “Even we weren’t as good as you are now in that short time.”

“Is that your way of saying that I’m better than you?” I asked the General.

“Do you honestly believe that compared to my five centuries of experience that you’d stand a chance in a real battle?”

“Yes,” I gave a short nod. “Granted I might be smaller than you, have three less siphons, but it makes you scared that I am equally as capable as you are, doesn’t it? You too, Shadowsinger. Your little friends haven’t left me alone since we met hours ago, I think they know that I am not to be taken so lightly.”

The room was silent, save for all our breath. Through the quiet I could hear a strap unlatch, the sound of metal scraping across cloth itching my ear. I locked eyes with the Shadowsinger, able to feel the microscopic vibrations of his movements through the shadow that was currently sliding up my ankle.

He clasped a blade in his hand.

My eyes shift to Cassian who seemed to spare Azriel a worried glance. A rush of voices snapped us all out of the intense staredown, the High Lord and Lady entering the room, elbows locked around one another. I stood up, not having been raised without some respect for our Court Masters.

“Khyra, this is Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court,” Rhysand wore a proud smile.

“A pleasure, Lady,” I returned her smile, despite the shiver crawling down my back.

“Feyre, please,” she waved off. “I see you have met Cassian and Azriel already. We’re just waiting on Mor and Amren, my sisters are coming in any second.”

As told, the two older Archeron’s entered the room, giving their pleasantries to the two winged brutes at the table. I’m sure none of them heard the blade sheath back into its place.

Morrigan, who was far more beautiful than I anticipated, entered next, followed by a bob of black hair behind her. Those silver eyes must belong to Amren. They all took seats around us, conversation filling the room.

I answered the questions I was asked, but never made an effort to ask my own. To me, all of this was still business. I kept a close eye on the Shadowsinger and the General. Both of them kept an eye on me. When dinner was around halfway over, Amren spoke. “Khyra, I would like to hear about your beating on Cassian. The amount of copper and gold pieces I would’ve given up to see that.”

I felt my throat close. “He was looking for a challenger, and I accepted. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“No no,” Nesta wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth. “Khyra and Cassian went at it for hours, there was quite the crowd. She won by a longshot. I’m sure I would’ve been killed if I tried to do what you did, I know better than to get in the sparring ring with that fool.”

“I can’t believe you willingly fought Cassian,” Elain said, a blush to her cheek.

“Like I said, I just accepted the challenge,” I speared a carrot onto my fork, letting its snap echo. The cool brush of Azriel’s shadows crept up my skin, and I shot him a glare. His gaze was firmly on the plate in front of him, or his High Lord as he spoke to Nesta.

I watched him intently, taking in the scars on his hands. I’d be stupid to think he wasn’t beautiful.

The inky tendril crept up my chest, up my neck and to my ear.

“Keep these to yourself, Shadowsinger,” I grit through my teeth, its presence igniting my flesh in an unnatural way. His jaw worked, refusing to look up at me. “I mean it.”

Cassian caught the hiss from across the table, casting a glance, pausing his chewing. I heard the strap unlatch yet again, this time hearing his grip suction around its handle. I kicked the leg of the table as hard as I could, its corner collapsing closest to Azriel. He, along with everyone else, jumped back, and I caught a glimpse of the blade in his hand. Its power trembled in the air.

He lunged for me, and I effortlessly evaded, using my strength to shove the table into his body so he’d have to make an effort to get to me. Plates and glasses of unfinished wine were shattered on the floor, crunching under my boots as I hurdled over the broken wood, driving my hand into Azriels throat.

He let out a gasp, swinging his arm at full force to try and scrape me. I steadied myself out of the way, bringing my arms up to protect myself when he came right back. I managed to avoid any attempts he made, but Cassian was quick to aid his brother. I kicked behind me straight into the General’s knee, sending him to the ground.

Azriel was back on me in seconds, his body twisting and turning in every which way, shadows whirling around and around. I landed a kick to his gut, and sent him into the wall.

Cassian tried to tackle me, but I rolled with him, landing on top and delivering a catastrophic blow right to his sternum, then right where his neck met his chest, leaving him gasping for air. I braced for Azriel when his hands clamped around my throat.

I curled my legs up and over myself, latching his head in between my knees, throwing them down. He tumbled, and I squeezed as hard as I could. Pain pierced my body, that blade he had been wielding now several inches deep in my thigh. I didn’t let it falter my grip, using my legs to pin his frantic wings down.

His eyes began to flutter close so I released him, scrambling to my knees, ripping the blade out, and dragging the gasping Illyrian against my chest. I gripped his chin and held the blade against it, taking a look around the disheveled room.

I was met with the intense and furious eyes of the High Lord– as to be expected– but Feyre and the others seemed to have this look of awe in their eyes.

I pressed the blade deeper into his throat, and he hissed. I stood, dragging him with me. I locked my fingers in his hair, kicking him to his knees.

“Okay,” the High Lord spoke all too calmly. “You’ve made your point. I suggest you let go of my Spymaster or you’re going to meet a very lovely place underneath a very tall mountain.” “You think I’m afraid of the Prison?” My laugh was anything but friendly. “I slaughtered my own father, I face a fate far worse than rotting in a chamber, High Lord. That would seem like a vacation for where I’m going.”

“Let go of Azriel. Now.” He demanded, and I felt razor sharp talons creep down my spine, caress my soul as a gentle reminder of the things he was capable of doing. I did not loosen my grip, nor did I break my eye contact.

“Rhys,” Feyre spoke, “Get out of her head.”

The presence left and I let my breath go. They seemed to exchange a heated conversation behind their eyes, and Rhysand came back looking defeated. I dared a glance at Cassian who slowly pushed to his feet, joining everyone on the other side of the room.

“I suppose she will do,” Rhysand tilted his head, a more impressed look coming over his features.

“Suppose I will do for what?” I snarled, strengthening my grip on the blade.

“I hosted this dinner tonight to see how well you could handle yourself against a threat. I asked Cassian and Azriel to provoke you and take you on, at the same time, merely just to assess your skills and see what you are capable of. Mostly because I didn’t believe him, and partly for my own amusement. Clearly, you are far stronger than any of us realize since you were able to survive an attack by Truth Teller and are still standing. Remarkable.”

My blood boiled, burned and scalded my insides so deep I thought about throwing the blade at the High Lord himself. I gave Azriel one good blow to the back of the head and he went tumbling forward, completely stunned and unable to move. I planted my foot in between his wings, pressing deeper and deeper until he cursed.

“Lie to me one more time and I will bring down a terror on you so vast you will not have time to prepare or to run or to hide. I will start with the Shadowsinger, then your General. Then I will tear every Illyrian to pieces and leave their wings on your front door step as a reminder that I am not one to betray. You think you have an idea of what I am capable of, High Lord? I do not take dishonesty lightly, I suggest you don’t ever let it happen again.”

I took my foot off his back and dropped the blade to his side. Rhysand watched me closely, tracking every single one of my movements.

“I think I might need to find myself at training tomorrow,” Morrigan whispered to Nesta. She gave me a heady glance from head to toe, eyes burning.

“Consider this your formal introduction to our Court, Khyra,” Rhysand gave a blisteringly fake smile. “But I suggest that if you throw threats in my home again you should prepare to never walk out of here again.” My mind seized yet again, and I fell beside Azriel. My neck strained, and my vision darkened.

“You were invited here as a guest, and for a place of employment. Don’t take it for granted because I can easily find a replacement and send you to the Court of Nightmares.”

Spit collected in my esophagus with the force of his hold on me. “See you say that and yet, there is no one capable of competing against me. We all know that.”

Through my strangled speech, he had this scowl on his face. He dropped me and I rubbed the ache in my shoulders. “Your post will begin, effective immediately. You will report here to me every week and discuss the things that are being discussed and spread through the camps. While you are in Windhaven, you will receive one on one training from Cassian and Azriel to further develop your skills.”

“Great,” I pushed to my feet. “Am I excused or do I need to finish all my vegetables before I can leave to go play?”

I saw Morrigan suck in her lips, Amren with a wry smile on hers. Elain had a deep blush, Nesta a smirk to match Amren’s. Feyre looked equally amused and concerned, but didn’t give me a look of disgust when I brushed past.

“Oh, and Khyra,” Rhysand’s voice made me pause in the hall. “If you ever threaten to kill Azriel or Cassian ever again, I’ll make sure you never see a Velaris sunset ever again.”

I don’t know how, or why, that made me recoil, but it did. I guess if I had one thing to look forward to, it’d be that. Seeing anything other than gray and brown and the general bleh that was Windhaven.

“Noted.” Was all I said.

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