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evielmostdefinitely · 6 months

Note

Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era

mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.

contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them.

His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride.

Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.”

Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed.

You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded.

You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress.

“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?”

The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you.

“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly.

Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?”

Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?”

Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?”

Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-”

“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?”

Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress.

“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly.

“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?”

It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it.

“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded.

“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?”

Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.”

“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?”

Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?”

“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…”

“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?”

“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner.

“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised.

Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to.

“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.”

“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused.

“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.”

Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you.

“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.”

“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave.

You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned.

Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.”

“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-”

“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.”

You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?”

“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded.

“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly.

Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”

You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.”

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly.

You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.”

Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office.

Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor.

You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you.

“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead.

“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.

Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-”

The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear.

“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!”

You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district.

The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger.

His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.”

“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.”

“It’s alrig-”

“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy.

The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you.

“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought.

You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace.

“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him.

He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him.

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before.

You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.”

Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words.

“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?”

“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest.

“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened.

“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come.

You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag.

“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly.

You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you.

You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you.

“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background.

“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that.

“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race.

“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently.

“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression.

“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst.

“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.”

“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face.

“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.”

You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought.

“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday.

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before.

“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer.

His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful.

You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin.

It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you.

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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peachesofteal · 5 months

Text

Dead Disco / Chapter 12

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Creampie. oral sex - fem receiving. Angst. Crying. So many feelings. Relationship issues. Eating/food issues. Brief suicidal ideation. Toxic behavior. Complicated dynamics. We're getting close to the end. You make a decision

“Knock, knock.” Your coworker hangs on the door frame, fingers clutching a brown paper bag and soda cup. “There’s a truck out front, for lunch. I guess they’re buying every Friday for the rest of the year?”

“Oh, yeah.” You vaguely remember seeing that email. You think.

“Anyway, they’re just wrapping up now and I didn’t see you go down, just wanted to make sure you knew.” She means well, you know she does. She’s always very kind to you, so you smile warmly and nod.

“I did, thanks.” She makes herself scarce after that, vacating your office with another pleasantry, leaving you to stew behind your desk, trying very hard not to look at what you packed yourself this morning, a lackluster sandwich, a cluster of green grapes. The idea of eating turns your stomach, the feeling piling onto the depths of your uneasiness, pushing you to seek comfort.

You can't bring yourself to eat, but you know you have to. You know you should be, aware you cannot survive on the same three half bites of things alone.

If they were here...

You glance at your phone.

Stop this.

You flip it facedown, turning your attention back to your laptop. Focus, you have actual work to do.

The bath has gone from scalding your skin off hot, to lukewarm too quickly. It urges you to get out, tells you it’s well past time, that if you headed to bed right now, you’d still be able to manage five hours before your alarm went off.

Fat chance.

Instead, you drain the tub. The porcelain turns to ice within a matter of moments, and you linger in the shiver, languishing in the discomfort, muscles tense, stomach sour. You nearly let yourself rot in it, knees tucked up close, goosebumps long erupted over every square inch of your skin.

You close your eyes as the tub refills, steaming water rushing out from the tap, slowly covering your feet, then your shins, until it’s deep enough for you to lean back in again, submerging yourself as deep as possible.

What are they doing right now? Are they working? Are they at home? Do they miss you? Is there someone-

No.

You’re not supposed to be… fixating on this. You’re supposed to be taking some time, thinking about what you want, what you think is best for you. This is what you wanted. You decided this.

You asked for this.

Why can’t you detangle yourself from them?

Everything twists and turns inside your brain, spinning together into a murky morass that you can’t make sense of, but it’s nothing compared to the agony in your heart. An infected, weeping, organ that sits heavy inside your chest cavity, now with a giant hole in the middle.

You don’t even notice when the first drops of water spill over the side, eyes fixed on the ceiling. You picked this rental for the tub. It’s massive, the biggest you’ve ever seen, and the cost to secure it for the entire month was probably more than you could afford on your own, but… it’s not like you haven’t made bad decisions in the past.

The water sloshes.

“Fuck.” You flip off the spigot in a hurry and sink back beneath the water, letting it flow over your mouth, your nose.

You could-

You could take a deep breath, fill your lungs with water.

You could turn it off.

You could make everything stop. You could just close your eyes and… rest.

“Johnny.” You breathe, surprised. Your heart bellows, begs you to fling yourself into his arms, but warning bells go off in the back of your mind, and you chew on your lip. He shouldn’t be here. They agreed. They promised. “What-“

“Ah had to see ye.” What if something has happened? You look him over, but he seems fine. What if something is wrong with Simon?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong-“

“Then why are you here?” It’s harsh. You cringe at the tone, at how it's so caustic, so careless, and he rubs the back of his neck, shifting unsteadily on his feet. Your resolve starts to melt, turning reticent, falling away into a slick puddle of weak opposition. He’s here. He still loves you. He’s here.

“I know ‘m not supposed to be doing this.” He mutters, and you nod. “But… we- I miss ye darling, miss ye so much.” His cheeks are red, turning his normally tan skin a deep rogue, and he swallows between breaths. “Are ye alright? Ye look… ye look tired, love.”

“I am tired, Johnny… I’m…”

He steps forward.

You step back.

It’s like you’re looking in a mirror.

His eyes are rimmed in stress, skin beneath them sallow, and he sags in a way that tells you he hasn’t been sleeping, bones and muscles not doing much except keeping him upright. Tears build behind your eyes, and they burn through the tip of your nose until you can’t hold them back anymore, raw agony in the form of a serrated blade cutting through your sense.

“This isn’t fair.” You cry. “Why are you here? You’re not- you’re not supposed to be here, Johnny.” His face changes, spirals through one hundred different things in the span of a second, half of them you can name. He’s still your Johnny, still the same, and you’ve never felt so homesick in your entire life, eyes stuck on the exposed skin just above his collar.

Johnny.

Your Johnny.

Simon’s Johnny.

“Please… dinnae cry, darling. I’m sorry, I-“

“You’re so selfish.” You don’t know why you say it. It just comes out, flying from your mouth on its own. His head snaps backwards like you’ve struck him, features shifting into panic.

“No, no I’m sorry-“ A spiral swirls, sucking you in, dragging you under, and you shake your head.

“Just… just… shut up. Please.” You whisper, fingers stretching out into the space between your bodies, tugging on the edge of his shirt. “Shut up.” The demand has more backbone now, and he blinks, confused. You can feel his heat, warm skin and breath vibrating away from his body into yours, tugging you closer and closer as you’re tipping your head back, heart overflowing with an insane, chaotic mix of emotions. You feel like you could fling yourself off the top of the tallest building in this city, and he’d still find a way to catch you.

He'd always find a way.

They both would.

“Darling-“ He's worried, rife with it, imbued with the sense of a logical man, but you don't care. You can't. You're already on a path, already made a decision, anticipated an outcome. And now... you want it.

Rules be damned.

“Kiss me.”

“I understand how you feel.”

“No you don’t!” You turn your back on him, shaking your head. “You don’t, Simon. You don’t know how it felt to sit there and listen to that doctor call Johnny your HUSBAND! How it was to realize you two are married! It was like… it was like I don’t even exist! Like I’m a footnote, in your story.”"

"We're not, I told-"

"I know what you said. It doesn't change anything. Married in the eyes of your fucking boss and your entire life is as good as being married."

“You are not some footnote in our story. You are a part of us, love.” You haul one of the blankets off the back of the couch and try to cram it into the duffel.

“Darling, we dinnae want ye to leave.”

“Johnny.” Simon hisses, turning to where the other part of your heart lurks inside the bedroom doorframe. “Don’t talk right now. You’ve done enough.”

“I’m sorry, I said I was sorry, I wouldnae-“

“Stop.” Simon snaps, and Johnny breaks, eyes filling with tears, frustrated fingers tearing into his hair before he stomps off, bathroom door slamming so loud it could rattle the entire flat.

Your head hurts. It throbs, pulse banging around under your skin, and the walls are too close, or too tall, everything is too much. You want to sleep. You want to disappear under a heap of blankets and close your eyes. You don’t want to face this, face either of them.

You should have just kept walking. Should have stayed outside, shouldn’t have come back. Then you wouldn’t have had to do any of this.

“Don’t cry.” Simon whispers. “Don’t cry, darling, please. It’s alright.” You hadn’t realized you were crying, but when he steps close, tapping his forehead to yours, strong arms holding you tight to his chest, you feel the wet stain on your cheeks, the heaviness of your lashes.

“It hurts too much, sometimes.” You whisper, and he nods.

“I know.”

“Fuck.” Your mug from breakfast tips over, rolling towards the sink, and you vaguely register the brown trickle of coffee that spills over the side.

“I’ll clean it up,” Johnny’s mouth sucks a mark into your belly, shoving the rest of items that sit next to you away, either to the floor or across the countertop, hiking your knee up in their place. “later. Promise.” He’s still working himself lower, biting and kiss and snarling against your skin, strong, scorching hands spreading your thighs so he can bury his face in your underwear.

“Oh-“

“Darling.” He groans, and you scramble, trying to pull them free, trying to push him closer to where you ache, already wet, desperate and out of your mind. You want him to crawl inside you, stitch himself to your skin and devour you whole.

“Johnny, Johnny.” The world vibrates in a million different colors, and you fist his hair, pushing yourself up to his face.

“I’ve got ye. Gon’ make ye feel good, love.” He does. He does every time, and this is no different, the way his hands cup you, the stroke of his tongue against your clit, the way he buries himself as far as he can, eating your twitching cunt as you lay flat on your back atop your own kitchen counter, begging him to make you come.

Is this wrong? Is it? Are you betraying yourself? Are you betraying him?

Are you betraying Simon?

It’s too much. It hurts too much.

You need it turned off. You need your entire brain powered down, need to not think or feel or cry about anything for just a second, for a single second of this almost thirty days.

Johnny moves, teeth nipping at your neck, and you meet his lips with your own, panting against him, holding him in your arms just like you’ve been dreaming about.

“I need you.” You whimper, and he nods, a thumb against your cheek. “Please, I- I want… I want you inside me,” your voice hitches higher, delirious, and insane. “Please, Johnny. Please.” Turn it off, turn it off, turn it-

“C’mere, c’mon, love.” He brings you to the edge of the counter, touching you so sweetly, so gently, like you’re a fragile treasure sort of thing, something to be revered, to be cared for.

You’re none of those things. Not now. Not ever.

It’s a mess, a tangled, fumbled mess of your mouth and his, your hands and his, clothes, teeth, hair. You claw at his back as he frees his cock, one foot on the corner, spread wide for him, and it takes nearly no time until he’s breaching you, heavy hardness pushing into you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut with a groan.

“Bleedin’ christ.” He takes his time, takes it slow, reintroducing you to a feeling that you could never forget, the pressure of his cock notching against your cervix, the fullness and weight of having him seated inside you. It’s so good, like home, like something you could spend the rest of your life with, or the rest of your life chasing, and you barely register the words he is whispering into the side of your face, spit and sweat and tears all running together.

Something's missing. Something's off. Something is missing, it's missing, it's-

“Move… p-please-“

“F-fuck.” He hisses. “Feel so fuckin’ good, darling. So perfect… missed ye, missed ye so much.” He babbles, pinning your hips in place, tendons in his forearms flexing as he thrusts harder and faster, moving your bodies together. “I love ye, cannae live w’out ye, darling. We cannae do it.” His fingers trace around his cock and then to your clit, where he starts to circle and rub the swollen bud exactly as you like it, muscle memory guiding his touch in just the right way, allowing him to drag you to another impending orgasm, cunt clenching down around him. “Ah fuck, that’s it. Squeezin’ me, ye-“

“Johnny.” You cry, and he kisses you, insistently, deeply, sealing you off from any air that isn’t his own, covering you entirely with his body, grinding his hips.

Your orgasm explodes between the two of you, and he shouts when he feels it, clutching you too tightly, chasing his own with a vigor that makes you stutter. Your legs jolt, closing around him, anchoring him, tying him to you, his body going rigid when he fills you with his cum.

Your kitchen is dead silent except for the echo of ragged breathing, sweat dotted skin and shaky hands still languishing together, aftershocks sizzling through your belly.

"Are ye.. are ye alright?" He kisses you, kisses your cheek, your temple, still holding onto your hand, cock still lodged deep inside of you, his cum leaking out between your legs.

Are you alright? Are you?

Your chest feels tight, brain desperately trying to catch up, heart bleeding inside your chest.

"Darling? Hey, look at me." He shifts, cupping your jaw and you blink at him, mouth moving without words.

You wallow there, in the silence, in the little space that exists in this moment, in the in-between.

Neither of you speak. He pulls back to cradle your face, and you see the tears again, fat ones that roll down his cheeks, illuminating the brilliant blue blaze of his eyes.

What have you done?

You stare at each other. Realization starts to form, panic fluttering in the ache between your ribs.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh god, oh what did you do, what did you-

The shrill shriek of his cellphone interrupts, forcing both of you to turn to look at the screen that proudly displays the name of the caller.

Simon.

#peaches writes #dead disco #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #soap x ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader

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suashii · 7 months

Text

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks

info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ﾉ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ degradation ﾉ impact play ﾉ daddy kink ﾉ dumbification ﾉ edging ﾉ body worship ﾉ praise kink ﾉ dacryphilia ﾉ virgin kink ﾉ corruption kink ﾉ all characters written 18+.

₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY

he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.

“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”

₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION

he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.

“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”

₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP

his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.

“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”

₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA

you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.

“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”

₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION

he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.

“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”

hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #atsumu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #sugawara x reader #semi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #𐙚 after hours

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mykoreanlove · 5 months

Text

Can a cat ever be tamed?

part 1

The bar was crowded with young people eager to drink their sorrows away.

Minho was one of them.

“Dude, what is up with you?”

He looked into his friend’s concerned eyes and scoffed, taking another sip of his whiskey.

“I am suffering from a sex ban, hyung. That is what’s up with me.”

His friend’s eyes widened in surprise. “What did you do to make y/n that mad?”

Minho got offensive. “Hey, why do you naturally assume that I was the one at fault?!”

His friend remained silent. “I mean I was at fault but still. The fuck does y/n think?”

A sigh left his friend’s lips. “What did you do?”

Minho poured down the remaining liquor and shrugged his shoulders. “Something stupid, I guess. Do you know the shop clerk down my apartment?”

His friend thought for a second. “The blonde one? With the giant tits?”

Minho nodded. “I flirted with her in front of y/n’s eyes.”

Minho’s friend choked on his drink. “What? Why?”

“Hey, can we get another round of drinks?”, he motioned to the bartender. “I like when y/n gets jealous. She gets all possessive and territorial of me and to me that’s so fucking sexy. I know I shouldn’t have provoked her, but it wasn’t because I was interested in anyone else. All I want is y/n.”

His friend rolled his eyes judgingly. “You have a very weird way of showing her this, Min.”

“As if her way of punishing me was any better”, he scoffed annoyed.

“How long?”

“Two weeks”, he mumbled defeatedly.

“That’s not that long, Min”, his friend chuckled in amusement.

“It is. Very long. Do you know how hot my girlfriend is? Sometimes I have to stop myself from jumping on her, that’s how bad I want to breed her.”

His friend erupted in laughter. “Well, then you better find a way to show that love in a healthy manner.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed mischievously, as he was forming a smirk. “Hell no. I love her, I do. But she needs to be taught a lesson. We both know who is wearing the pants in this relationship.” Minho took another sip of his drink. “I’m dominant, she’s submissive. No one is punishing me like that. Not even y/n.”

His friend remained silent, wondering if Minho would ever loose his toxic antics.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Minho stood up and grabbed his coat. “I’ll wait until the ban is over. And then I’ll teach her a lesson. It’s payback time, hyung.”

part 3

_______

@maximumkillshot @weareapackofstrays @lieslovefantasy @thatonenoona @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @livzsposts @i2nsstuff @n3tunobellah @redstayrosie @straykidsholicleigh @notastraykid @astayinwonderland @hanjisung-enjoyer @nicolechingish @sassyhumancoppainter

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

Note

hellooo i would like to request something <33

basically hanahaki disease w/ Aleksander? when alina arrived at the little palace, reader had been coughing and Aleksander noticed then reader found out that she was coughing petals and eventually got to know it was a disease with the help of some of the plant expert grishas i guess perhaps the healers? then reader starts to distance herself from Aleksander so he wouldn't know but he eventually found out because one of the grisha witnessed one of reader's coughing session and maybe an angst to fluff fic 👉👈

first of all, i am so sorry.. she's a long one... this has been tentatively proofread so i apologise for any grammar or spelling errors. this is my first time writing this trope so i hope it will do alright. thank u for ur beautiful req, my lovely anon, i love u!

warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, vomiting, aleksander is an idiot here lowkey.

word count: 11.9k

To Love Another & Be Loved (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

The Sun Summoner had to be one of the nicest people you’d met in your entire life.

You wanted to dislike her, after all, she was the center of Aleksander’s attention almost all of the time. Not even the scraps of his time had been reserved for you as of late.

But you simply couldn’t hate her. She was nothing but kind to you. You spent much of your time with her, anyway. You were the only other Tailor besides Genya and often helped her ready herself for important things when Genya was tending to the Queen. At first, your service to her was only out of obligation to Aleksander. After all, he was your best friend and he fought the King constantly to keep you away from the Grand Palace. The least you could do was help a bit. Surely it would be temporary.

You sat in Alina’s room with her and you focused hard on twisting her hair up and braiding little bits of it to create an elaborate updo. She was to have dinner with the King and Queen and the Prince that night along with Aleksander. You wordlessly pinned up a thin, tiny braid and Alina sighed.

“At what point does this all just… stop?” She asked warily and you eyed her through the mirror she sat in front of.

You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, “What do you mean?” You questioned and flickered your eyes back on her hair.

“Just… the showiness of it all. When do I become a person with capabilities rather than a spectacle?”

“Likely never.” You replied with a frown and you met her eyes in the mirror, “But that shouldn’t discourage you. Be the best damn spectacle this country has seen.”

Her shoulders squared a bit and she seemed to at least somewhat like what you had to say. You smiled and went back to her hair, your fingers deftly weaving braids and little twists together for a while longer. You sat back after some time and then placed a few decorative pins in her hair, giving her an approving smile.

“Lovely. I’m sure the royal family will just eat you up.” You teased and rose from the stool you sat on.

“I’m sure Aleksander won’t like that.” She countered playfully and the smile slowly faded from your face.

You blinked in surprise a few times and then let out an uneasy chuckle, “So he’s told you his name?”

You didn’t know why it bothered you. But it did.

Alina nodded and she slid on her kefta and buttoned it up while she hummed. You eyed her and bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was black, of course. You glanced down at your own kefta and smoothed it down almost self-consciously. You wore a red kefta that was intricately embroidered with blue threads, and you’d never been disappointed in it until now.

Why not dress her in gold? You asked silently as you stared at her and you felt that same bitter twinge of jealousy you’d felt ever since she came to the Little Palace. Furthermore, the little sparkle in her eyes when she said his name didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Yes, is it not very common knowledge?” She asked once she finished buttoning up her clothes and you shook your head.

You opened your mouth to speak but a knock on the door cut you off. You took this as an opportunity to end this conversation before it made you more upset and you hurried to the door. You opened it up and you were instantly met by a familiar pair of dark eyes. A little weight was lifted from your chest and you smiled up at Aleksander who gave you a smile right back.

“I figured you’d still be here.” He remarked and leaned down to press a chaste and polite kiss on your cheek. Your skin felt warm and tingly where his lips had made contact and as he pulled away, you prayed he didn’t see the way your face was flushing.

“It probably wouldn’t have taken so long if Alina didn’t have so much hair.” You noted and then tucked a piece of your own back behind your ear, “I haven’t seen much of you recently.” You remarked, trying your best to keep your tone casual.

Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back and he gave you a wide smile, “Well, as you know, I’ve been very busy. Join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I would love to catch up with you.” He said earnestly and you felt a tug in your chest.

“Of course. Tea sounds wonderful.” You replied, and watched as his eyes shifted over your shoulder.

The look on his face made your own smile falter. His eyes were fixed on Alina who stood behind you and his smile had turned into an awestruck expression, his eyes softening in ways they didn’t even soften for you.

“Miss Starkov, you look dazzling.” He commented and you suddenly felt very small, standing in the middle of them.

Her shy giggle sent a gravelly itch up your throat and you blinked a few times, trying to fight back a cough.

She thanked him and said something else, but you didn’t hear it because a dry, gritty cough came tearing up through your throat. You held your hands over your mouth frantically and doubled over. You felt a hand on your back and slowly you straightened yourself back up and gasped for air, the coughs ceasing.

“Are you alright? Would you like a bit of water?” You heard Alina ask and you shook your head, shifting your eyes downwards.

“What was that? Did you choke on a fly?” Aleksander asked with an amused little chuckle. You gave him a terse laugh in response and felt your throat burn again. Another much smaller and shorter cough reverberated through your chest and you held your hands tightly over your mouth. A warm, wet feeling coated your palms and your face paled.

Once you recovered you frantically balled your hands up in fists and lowered them to your sides, clearing your throat, “I’m not sure where that came from. I think I’ll go make some tea. Have a lovely dinner.” You murmured hoarsely and scurried past Aleksander, not bothering to look back at them. You made it halfway down the hallway before you slowly unfurled your hands and held them up so that you could see your palms.

They were sporadically coated in blood.

“You don’t have a cold, y/n. Perhaps it’s just the dry air. Winter is upon us.” Genya stated as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea.

You looked over your shoulder and expected to see Aleksander any time now and then you turned back to Genya with a shrug.

“I don’t know what else it could be. I can’t stop coughing.” You replied, leaving out the part where most of your coughs dragged blood up from your throat.

She hummed and took a sip of her tea before shaking her head, “No. Grisha don’t get sick, lovely. You can’t have a cold. Perhaps you’re allergic to something you’ve been smelling or using or eating. Anything new in your diet? Perfumes? Lotions?” She pressed and you shook your head, “Well, then I’m not sure what to tell you. See a Healer if you’re concerned about it but I’m telling you it’s likely the dry air.” She urged.

You looked down at your own tea and watched tendrils of steam climb the air above it. You let out a sigh and reached out to grab a sugar cube, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and spun around, feeling instant relief when you saw that it was only Aleksander who had his hand on you. You sighed contently and leaned your cheek down against the back of his hand.

“Please, forgive me. I know I’m a bit late to tea. I just had a rather disappointing conversation with a few trackers.” He hummed and then pulled his hand away from your shoulder, leaving you with a certain kind of emptiness.

He slid into the chair next to you and grabbed your hand tightly, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. Genya must have heard it, because she smirked and quickly raised her teacup to her lips to hide it.

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.” He commented and tapped your knuckles with the side of his thumb.

“I wasn’t feeling the best.” You drawled and looked up at his face. He didn’t seem overly concerned when you mentioned that you didn’t feel well, but he didn’t brush it off, either.

“Odd. Perhaps you should see my Healer.” He pressed and then he reached out and poured himself a cup of tea with his free hand before he released your hand.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned back to your own tea and took a sip of it, looking up at Genya who cleared her throat and stood up.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got to get back to the Queen.” She stated and gave you a small wave before scurrying off.

“Y/n. My Healer?” Aleksander pressed and you glanced up at him.

You gave him a polite shake of your head and you smiled, “No, it’s all okay. I feel much better now.” You insisted. And it was partially true. You did feel a bit better now that you had some tea.

You felt his onyx eyes on you as you turned back to your tea and before you could turn towards him, he reached up and brushed a bit of your hair back behind your ear.

“You look very tired.” He commented and frowned, letting his fingers linger against the side of your face for only a second before dropping them.

“I am tired. But I have a lot to do today. Besides, I’m getting fitted for my dress today. For the Fete.” You commented, trying to change the subject.

He hummed and then picked up his teacup, “What are you going to wear?” He asked curiously and he shifted his entire body towards you.

You looked over at him and slowly turned yourself to face him as well and you gave him a little smile, “Well, not red. That’s for sure. I picked something soft. Pink. A pretty pink dress.”

“Pink is a form of red.” Aleksander pointed out, an amused little smile forming on his perfect lips.

You giggled and then shook your head, reaching out to give his arm a very gentle smack, “Pink is a very nice color and even if it is red at the very core of it all, I will be wearing it.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and then he chuckled, “Determined little thing, aren’t you?” He asked and then set his teacup down, “I’m glad you’re coming. I was worried you would skip this Fete like you did last year.”

“Well, last year Vasily was all over me. And I hated it. Of course I didn’t go.” You remarked with a little snort. Aleksander laughed softly and shook his head, turning back to his tea.

You looked at him, your face softening. Everything about him seemed so… inviting in that moment. The way his hair was immaculately brushed back and curled around the back of his neck, the little curve of his lips as they stayed in their smile from your antics. His dark eyes shone with a rare light of humor and the light of the afternoon sun illuminated them perfectly as you stared at him from the side. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful.

And you wanted him so badly. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to look at you the way he’d looked at Alina the night before. You wanted to wear black with him and you wanted to be at his side during the Fete.

You were desperately in love with your best friend, and the worst part was that you could never tell him.

Your silence must have concerned him in some way, because he slowly turned to face you, the smile slowly vanishing from his face.

“Y/n, you look like you are about to cry, darling. What’s going on?” He asked softly and you shook your head a few times.

“N..nothing is wrong.” You lied and felt your throat begin to tingle with the familiar preceding another coughing fit, “I think I just need to go lie down. I feel… unwell.” You added, your voice getting weaker as you tried to keep a cough at bay.

“Please,” Aleksander began and slowly rose from his chair, “let me walk you to your room, my dear. You are starting to worry me a little bit, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” He stated and held his arm out for you to take.

You reached up to grab his arm but instantly yanked your hands back and brought them to your face as you began to cough violently into your palms. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled your mouth and you heaved forward on your chair, nearly falling off as you coughed. Aleksander’s strong hands caught your shoulders, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up into his arms.

“Alright. I’m going to take you to your room and then I’m going to send for a Healer. This isn’t natural. You shouldn’t be coughing like that.” He stated.

You held your hands over your mouth for a while longer as your coughs subsided and you blinked a few times. Once you were sure no more coughs were to come, you pulled your hands up into the sleeves of your kefta and you cleared your throat, wincing as it burned, “No, you don’t need to. I swear to the Saints it’s just allergies, Aleksander.” You said wheezily.

He looked down at your face and his brows furrowed together and he shook his head, “You have blood on your chin.” He commented and you gaped up at him.

You reached up and wiped your chin with the sleeve of your kefta and he simply shook his head. You closed your eyes exhaustedly and let him carry you the rest of the way to your room. Once he’d gotten you to your bedroom, he laid you out on your bed and frowned down at you.

“I’m sending a Healer up here. Don’t be stubborn, please let them help. I’d stay but I’m taking Alina riding. Promise me you will accept the help I send for you.” He said sternly and you opened your eyes.

You stared up at him, something snapping in your chest. He couldn’t even stay to make sure you were okay?

“That’s fine. I promise.” You said bitterly and then shook your head, “Have fun riding with Alina.”

You were sure he caught the bitterness in your tone, because he scowled slightly and then shook his head. He looked as if he might argue with you but instead he wordlessly turned on his heel and left your room, slamming your door behind him.

A brutal cough tore itself free from your chest and it sent you shooting up into a sitting position. You held your hands over your mouth to catch the droplets of blood that loosed themselves from your throat. Your throat burned as if you were swallowing acid and you miserably pulled your hands away from your mouth between coughs. You stared down at the blood in your hands and suddenly your stomach twisted. You launched yourself off of the bed and grabbed the waste bin that sat near your bed and you coughed violently into it until something sharp tore its way up through your throat and out of your mouth. You had to blink a few times before it registered what exactly sat in the once-empty waste bin; what exactly came out of your mouth. A small cluster of thorns lay in a thick puddle of your blood, and a cluster of bloody rose petals laid around it.

Your mouth hung agape as you stared down into the wastebasket and you pushed it away from you with a frightened yelp.

Something soft slid against your tongue and you reached up and shakily pulled a blood wetted rose petal off of your tongue, and it was the last thing you saw before your vision went black.

Something wet and cold mopped across your feverish forehead and you slowly opened your eyes. Someone’s hand moved back and forth in your line of sight and you heard a loud gasp before your hands were being clutched tightly. You cleared the fuzziness from your vision by blinking a handful of times and you slowly sat up a bit to see Genya standing over you with her hands clasping yours. A Healer stood at your bedside with a cloth in her hand and you looked back and forth between the two of them before you let out a raspy sigh.

“Y/n! Sweetheart! What is going on? Emilia found you this way. She said The Darkling sent her up here to you and that when she came in you were out cold on the floor.”

Emilia must have been the name of the Healer girl at your side and you looked over at her with a terse smile before you looked back at Genya. Her wide eyes were even wider with fear and you frowned, not wanting to have frightened her.

“I’m fine, I promise. It just must be aller-“

“It is not allergies!” Genya cut you off viciously and dropped your hand to point at the waste bin, “What kind of allergy has you throwing up… plants?” She demanded and you simply shrugged.

She exasperatedly squeezed the hand of yours that she still held and she frowned, “Emilia tried to heal you but couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Your lungs sound terrible but other than that, you’re healthy.” She said with worry lacing every word she spoke, “When The Darkling gets back from riding-“

You shook your head and held your hand up, “No. No we are not going to tell him a single thing, do you two understand me? You will tell him I am suffering allergies and will be fine in a week or two. I don’t want him around.” You said in a clipped tone.

Genya looked surprised when you said this but she didn’t protest. Instead, she comfortingly brushed her thumb across the back of your hand and let out a defeated little sigh, “Oh, honey. Are things that bad?”

You slowly looked up at Emilia and Genya did as well. Emilia looked between the two of you and she let out a little sigh.

“I’ll go get you some tea for your throat.” She said, excusing herself from the conversation that you so desperately wanted to keep private.

The moment the Healer left the room, you burst into tears. Your ragged breaths seemed to tear trenches into your throat as you cried and little coughs escaped your lips between sobs. You buried your face in your hands and barely noticed when Genya sat right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you against her side.

“Sweetheart, what happened? This afternoon you were all smiles for him.” She breathed and gently rubbed your arm, soothing your cries just slightly.

“Oh, Genya. I love him. I’m so very in love with him and he hardly gives me the time of day anymore. He speaks of Alina like she’s hung his entire sky. He looks at her like she’s more precious than jewels. He noticed I wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t even stay with me. He just tossed a healer at me and left to go with her. It hurts, Genya.” You cried, hiding your face against her shoulder.

The red haired girl stroked your hair and your back and your arm as you cried against her and at some point, reached out to grab the cool cloth Emilia had left behind. She gently dabbed it against your cheeks and the side of your neck and she frowned, letting you cry.

Your chest ached terribly at the idea that you loved your best friend who would never love you back, but it seemed to hurt more that you were all in all losing said best friend. Genya coaxed you down until your cheek was against her upper thigh and she ran her fingers through your hair, dabbing the cold cloth against your burning skin still.

“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, honey.” Genya said softly, still trying to soothe you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks still, but your cries subsided for the most part. You exhaustedly closed your eyes and relaxed underneath the Tailor’s touch. You took painful, deep breaths and attempted to calm yourself. You laid in silence against Genya’s thigh for a long time, the only sounds being your sniffles and coughs and little whines. You desperately tried to clear your head of Aleksander, and nearly had, before your door swung open. You heard the handle smack against the wall, and heavy footsteps made their way across your floors. Aleksander. You laid still against Genya and prayed that he thought you were asleep.

“Emilia says it’s only allergies.” Genya said quietly and you felt her hand slow in your hair until it rested protectively against the crown of your head.

You heard him shuffle for a moment before he hummed, “She looks miserable.” He remarked.

He lifted his hand to touch your arm, but Genya shooed his hand away and shook her head.

“Let her sleep.” She murmured and you heard Aleksander snort.

“Well, according to my Healer, she’s been unconscious for three hours up until now. How is she sleeping again?” He asked and you could tell he didn’t believe you were asleep.

That didn’t stop you from pretending, still.

“Because she is feeling unwell. Why don’t you come and see her tomorrow morning?” Genya suggested and slowly began to drag her fingers through your hair again.

“I don’t want to see her tomorrow morning. I want to see her now.”

“I don’t think she wants to see you, moi soverenyi.” The Tailor countered.

The room was silent for a moment and then you heard the rustle of his kefta as he shifted in place. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back every desire inside of you that screamed for you to launch yourself into his arms. Maybe if you did, he would carry you like he had earlier. You wanted to scream how you loved him in his face and cry on his chest about how he was hurting you. But you stayed rooted in the bed.

“Mm, alright then. Let her know that she needn’t seek me out then. If she truly does not want to see me. I won’t bother her.” He said coldly and you felt your face screw up in despair.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m only saying she likely doesn’t want to be bothered and roused from an already uncomfortable sleep just so you can ask her what I’ve already asked a hundred times. It’s just allergies. It happens with the turn of the seasons.” Genya explained calmly, her voice steady.

“I’ve known her for years now and she’s never had allergies at the turn of the seasons.” He stated.

“Well, that’s the only thing that it can be. The Healer said it herself. She’s perfectly healthy otherwise.” Genya insisted.

There was another long silence in the room and you could feel his near-black eyes boring into you, traveling your crumpled form. But he said nothing more. After a while, you heard his footsteps as he left the room and the door closed, much more carefully this time.

You didn’t dare open your eyes until Genya sighed and gently tapped the back of your head, “He’s not here, it’s okay.” She murmured and you slowly opened your eyes.

Another cry escaped your lips.

The next few days were absolutely miserable. You’d spent the first day and half in your room, and when Genya wasn’t waiting on you, you were alone. Aleksander didn’t come to see you once, and you came to accept that it was just going to be your new normal.

The first time you emerged from your bedroom in days was for dinner, and Genya held you tight to her side as she walked with you down to the dining hall. Normally, she didn’t eat with the other Grisha, but she had neglected many of her duties to the Queen to take care of you for the past two days.

Now, three days had passed since you had last seen- or heard, rather- Aleksander, and you sat out in the courtyard on the grass with Genya. The red haired girl had insisted that you needed sunlight and she sat and read under a tree with you while you laid your head in her lap. You could hardly speak, and when you did, your voice was raspy and quiet. Every now and then, the girl would look over her book to check on you, and each time she did, she’d give you a kind smile.

“Are you hungry?” She asked after a while and brought her hand up to your forehead to feel for your temperature.

You shook your head weakly and rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand, “I don’t have an appetite, admittedly.” You murmured and she clicked her tongue, but didn’t press the subject.

You tried your best to enjoy the cool breeze on your feverish cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to distract yourself from the pounding in your head and the raw burn in your throat.

“What are you reading?” You asked Genya absentmindedly and she hummed.

“Reading up on rare diseases. I found a few books that have information about sicknesses and accounts of Grisha becoming ill with certain ones. I thought maybe it would help us figure out what’s going on with you.” She stated and turned a page as if on cue.

A warm feeling tickled your nose and you felt it travel downwards until your skin was wet and you gasped and let out a curse. You sat up quickly and held your hand over your nose as it bled and you glanced down at the little bloody spot on Genya’s kefta.

“Saints. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.” You breathed and cupped your hands underneath your nose to catch the rapidly flowing blood.

The girl simply shook her head and pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to you, “Don’t be sorry. We can get the stain out easily.” She insisted, and you gratefully took the handkerchief from her and held it against your nose.

“Perhaps we should get you inside?” She suggested and you nodded once. You grabbed onto the tree with your free hand and balanced yourself as you rose to your feet. You felt winded as you stood and your throat began to prickle and you let out a groan that was cut short when you leaned forward and coughed viciously into the sleeve of your kefta. Little petals spewed out of your mouth as you coughed and got stuck with your blood onto the fabric of your sleeve, but you weren’t surprised anymore. Thorns and petals came along with the coughs now. At least now your nose had ceased its bleeding. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and groaned in pain as you felt Genya touch your back.

“Oh, Saints. Hurry. Let’s go inside. The Darkling is out here.” She said in a hushed tone, and though you two tried to hurry into the palace, it seemed you weren’t fast enough, because Aleksander called your name.

You looked up at Genya worriedly and she took a glance at your face. Blood was smeared under your nose and on your chin and she let out a huff before she snatched the handkerchief from your hand and quickly cleaned up your face. She stuffed the soiled fabric into her pocket once more and you turned around just in time to see Aleksander approach you with Alina not far behind.

His kefta billowed like smoke behind him in the breeze and when he reached you, his face was nothing short of irritated and accusatory. His beautiful face was set in an angry grimace and his eyes were hard. You shied back slightly and felt Genya’s hand press encouragingly into your back.

“It must be rather fun ignoring me, since you’ve done it flawlessly for three days now.” He snapped and you looked down at your feet, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“I haven’t felt well, I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

He snorted and reached out to grab your jaw, tilting your face up so that he could look down upon you, “That’s not an excuse. I don’t expect you to be prancing and frolicking around, but as someone who cares about you, I would at least like to be updated about your state.”

His words sent a shockwave of sadness through your chest and you frowned, your eyes watering. You blinked away your tears rapidly, refusing to cry in front of him and Alina. He let go of your face slowly and he shook his head.

“My dear, I worry about you, that’s all. I’m not truly angry, oh please don’t cry.” He said softly, his expression ridding itself of all anger as he watched your eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

You shifted your gaze over his shoulder and watched as Alina gently grabbed his arm and he subtly pulled her into his side. The action had you biting down on your cheek hard, a terrible cough fighting its way up your throat. You felt something sharp rise to the back of your throat and you shoved past all three of them to get inside of the palace, holding your hands over your mouth as you raced to your bedroom.

You were unsure of how you held it in for so long, but as soon as you got to your room, a violent retching sound ripped it’s way up through your chest and your throat and you fell to your knees and a slew of blood and petals came spewing out of your mouth. The heavy, sharp presence was still in the back of your throat and you coughed, and coughed, and coughed until you felt something shred the back of your throat and come loose. A rosebud tumbled from behind your lips, followed by a thick mixture of blood and saliva. You stared down at the sticky, bloody mess you had made all over your pale blue rug and you brought your shaky hands up to your clammy face, covering your mouth as you sobbed.

Your chest ached and burned as if you’d swallowed blades and you let out a shrill scream of frustration. You sunk down onto the floor even further and curled up into a ball, your cheek resting a bit too close to the sticky puddle of blood and floral matter. You were too exhausted to care. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. Every breath you took sent shards of glass sliding down your throat and you coughed again, bits of petals getting stuck to your bloodied lips. You slowly closed your eyes and shivered once, reaching down and holding your knees to your chest.

No one had followed you. Not even Aleksander. Even just thinking his name sent a pang of raw emotion through your chest and a few little tears rolled down your cheeks as you laid against the ruined carpets. Too busy with Alina. Too busy with everything. When did the busy excuses end? At what point did you need to accept that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him, and certainly not in the same way. You cursed yourself for thinking of him. Why were you thinking of him? He surely wasn’t thinking of you. You should have been thinking about why the hell you were sick.

But all you could think about was Aleksander.

You weren’t sure how or when, but at some point, you’d been moved up onto your bed and your blood-ruined dress had been switched out for a light, breathable nightgown. A hand dragged itself through your hair slowly and you almost thought you were imagining in your half-asleep state, until you heard voices.

“I don’t really care. I will remove someone from the frontlines if we must. I need a very, very good Healer and I need them promptly.”

You recognized Aleksander’s voice anywhere, and now that you were a bit more aware, you could tell that it was not Genya’s delicate little hand running through your hair.

It was his.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to enjoy the very minimally important action of his hand stroking your hair so gently.

“Then find someone. But I don’t think this is anything to worry about.”

That voice belonged to Genya, and you felt a sense of relief that she was still covering for you.

“Genya, do not give me excuses any longer. I know she is ill. To the extent and with what, I am unsure. But she is my dearest friend, and I will not be so easily deterred from finding a solution to her health.” He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to wake you and you felt your lip nearly wobble.

You didn’t know if you were joyful or devastated to hear him call you his friend. You longed for ignorance. You longed to think that he was here to confess his love for you, you wanted him to play with your hair like this for hours and hold you in his arms while you slept.

You wouldn’t get your wish, though.

“Sir, I think it would just be best to give her space.” Genya suggested quietly.

Aleksander’s hand stilled against your head and went rigid, “And why do you say that?” He asked coldly.

“Well, you just hardly… see her anymore. I think perhaps she’s a bit bothered by your neglect.”

“Has she told you this?”

“Yes.”

The room was silent and you wanted to sob as you felt his hand slowly leave your hair. You wanted to catch his wrist and bring it back, beg him to never let you go.

“Well, she always has been a bit of a jealous little thing. She’ll get over it. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow sometime.” He said dismissively and you felt the bed move and assumed he had climbed off of it.

You waited until you heard him leave to open your eyes and you let out a long, ragged sigh. You felt the bed dip beside you and Genya was placing her hand against your forehead. She let out a little hum and then shook her head.

“You’re very lucky I managed to clean everything up before he came barging in here.” She said softly and reached down to grab your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, shrugging.

“At some point we need to tell him what’s going on, Y/n.” She urged gently and then squeezed your hand as softly as possible.

You felt a little wave of gratefulness in your chest at Genya’s determined and dedicated presence and you squeezed her hand back, “Eventually.” You murmured and then closed your eyes again, still feeling exhausted.

“You sound terrible.” She noted and sat up against the headboard, resting her back against it. You very slowly rolled over and laid your head against her thigh and you sighed.

“You’re my best friend, Genya.” You murmured.

She let out a little sigh and she laid her hand on top of your head, “You really love him, don’t you?” She asked quietly.

You didn’t answer her at first. She knew the answer and so did you, but the moment you spoke it aloud, it became real and it became capable of ruining everything.

“Yes.” You finally answered in a squeak.

There was a silence that filled the air around the two of you and you felt her lean over the edge of the bed for a moment. When she settled back in her spot, she tapped your head very gently and cleared her throat.

“I found something. While you were sleeping.” She said almost nervously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” You asked and stared off at the wall ahead of you.

“I mean about your… condition.” She said quietly and you could hear her flipping through a book above you.

Finally, she laid the open book down in front of your face and you reached up with a shaking hand to grab it. You sat up slowly with a bit of her help and laid the book in your lap as you peered down at it. The pages were old and weathered but the drawings were clear as can be. Roses were sketched onto the page and you ran your fingers over the paper as you read the text next to it.

‘In extreme cases of unrequited love, the affected person will become sick with envy and begin to exhibit signs of serious illness…’

You blinked a few times and read through the recorded symptoms.

Every single one was something you were experiencing.

“No. Absolutely not.” You breathed and looked up at a frowning Genya.

“The symptoms are all there. This is what’s ailing you.” She said, her eyes growing watery.

“Genya-“

“I’ll spare you the heavy reading. There is no cure, not unless he confesses his true and honest love for you.”

You felt dread add itself to your already sore chest and you turned your head to look up at her.

“Oh.”

She brought her hands up and cupped your cheeks and she shook her head, “I swear, we won’t let you die. We will find a way. Me and Baghra, Saints, I’ll even tell Him-“

“You can’t tell him.” You whispered and looked up at her tearfully, “You have to swear to me that you will not tell him. Genya, I’m begging you. Let him just… let him be happy with his Sun Summoner. He’ll forget about me, he’s already beginning to.” You said and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

Tears were falling down the redhead’s cheeks now and she shook her head, “No, this isn’t how it ends.” She said sternly and wiped her own eyes with the backs of her hands after she lowered them from your face.

You leaned your head against her shoulder and closed your eyes, “I’m so tired.” You whispered, feeling exhaustion course through your body at a rapid rate.

“Sleep, sweetheart. Please. I’ll stay here with you until morning.” Genya promised and you nodded.

She helped you lay back onto the pillow behind you and she tucked the comforter around your shoulders before feeling your forehead once again.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” You whispered and she gave you a heartbreakingly sad smile.

“What are friends for?”

The next morning was excruciating. A terrible coughing fit roused you from your sleep and you’d- yet again- made a bloody, flowery mess all over. This time, you helped Genya clean the mess up despite her protests. Once she’d helped you clean up, she announced that she had a hot bath drawn for you.

You followed her into your bathroom and pulled your clothes off before you stepped into the hot water and let out a long, relieved sigh as you sunk down into it and sat.

“I need to go tend to the Queen for a little while. I shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay if I leave for just a few hours? If you need anything, I’ve already informed Baghra of your condition, you can go find her.” She explained and then gave you a little smile.

“You’ve been busy this morning.” You commented and she shrugged.

“Well, I’m just making sure you’ll be alright while we figure this all out.” She said softly and patted your head a few times, “Well, off I go. Please, please be careful. And if you have a coughing fit, do it over the tub. We can drain the water easily.” She said, half joking.

You bid her farewell and she left your room and you sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe your sore muscles, though it didn’t do much for your stinging throat and aching chest. You brought a hand to your forehead and you felt a wave of melancholia drag you down.

There was really no way that you were going to get out of this alive. It wasn’t like Aleksander was going to burst in on his knees and confess that he’d loved you the entire time, and you highly doubted that if a Healer couldn’t help you, then you were beyond help. You rubbed your temples very slowly and let out a very long, exasperated sigh, which triggered a few coughs. Little droplets of blood flew forward into the water from your mouth and you winced as a few petals loosed themselves from your throat as well. They floated atop the hot water and you picked one of the soft, pink petals up tentatively. It looked like a rose petal. It was a rose petal. You were grateful that it was only a few soft petals this time rather than the thorns and stems you’d cough up other times. You dropped the petal back in the water and you laid your head back against the edge of the bathtub weakly.

Your chin wobbled slightly and you closed your eyes just as tears started to stream out of them. You soundlessly cried as you sat in the steaming water and you reached up to hold your hands over your face as you cried. Soon enough, your cries were no longer soundless and you sobbed into your hands. Your whole entire body hurt and you were in agony. Emotional and physical agony. You wished for it all to stop and you pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the edges of the tub as you continued to cry with your eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Your mind wandered to Aleksander, something it often did, and you gasped painfully. You could practically feel his fingers running through your hair again, and you pictured what it would have been like if he had gathered you in his slender arms instead of just messing with your hair. The thought brought you a split second of comfort before it brought on waves of pain, crashing against your chest like rogue waves in a tumultuous ocean.

Oh, you loved him. You couldn’t just stop loving him. Even though you sat and wished so desperately that you could. You gripped the edges of the tub impossibly tight and sputtered out a few heavy coughs that left your chest feeling split open. Your bathwater was tinged pink now and there was an arrangement of fragmented and full rose petals floating around in the water.

A little tap made you open your eyes and you looked up to see Aleksander standing in the doorway of your bathroom. You made a move to cover yourself but he simply shook his head.

“I’m not looking, it’s okay.” He stated, staying in the doorway.

You glanced away from him sadly and you gave him a nod. You heard his boots tap against the marble floor and you heard a bit of rustling before you turned your head towards him again to see that he was now kneeling at the side of your tub.

“You look terrible. Really, really terrible.” He commented.

“Thanks. You really know how to make someone feel great, Aleksander.” You snapped and narrowed your eyes at him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head a few times, “You’re still lovely. You just look miserable. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look malnourished, you look poorly rested. Your face is sunken, your eyes are lifeless, you look terrible.” He explained and you laid your head down on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be fine.” You said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, you all keep trying to tell me that but I don’t believe it all that much. Look at you. You can’t even move without it looking like it’s causing you pain.”

“What do you care?” You asked and closed your eyes, biting back a sob.

“What do I care? What do I care? Are you an imbecile? I care more than you seem to even care to imagine!” He snapped angrily and stood up abruptly.

“Whatever. I know you’d rather be with your Sun Summoner right now. Please just go.”

“Saints, you’re such a bitter thing! You knew what the Sun Summoner coming here would mean. You know what it does mean. Get over yourself, this is bigger than you and your need for attention!” He exclaimed.

Though he hadn’t, you felt as if he’d lifted you to your feet and slapped you until you fell. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him. Your eyes grew glossy with tears and you bit down on your cheek before you shifted your eyes away from a seething Aleksander.

“Please just go away.” You whimpered and brought your hands up to your face, hiding it from his sight.

You cried silently for a moment and you rubbed your eyes vigorously before lifting your head out of your hands to tell him once more to leave.

But he was already gone.

The week leading up to the winter fete was exhausting.

Not that you had been doing much other than laying around in your room and taking brief walks whenever Genya had a moment to accompany you outside.

Nothing had improved though.

You were still weak, still coughing, still in pain. Nothing was better, in fact, it seemed to only worsen by the day.

The day of the fete was upon you and you had argued with Genya for nearly two hours so that she’d let you go. Finally, she had conceded and told you that you could go as long as you left early and were very, very careful not to cough around anyone.

“And if you start feeling worse, you’re going right back to bed. Do you understand me?” Genya asked critically as she held a big, white box to her chest. Your dress. She was holding it hostage until you agreed to her terms.

“Yes, fine, anything! I’ve waited so long to go.” You weren’t sure why you were so excited to go to the fete. You had previously been excited to go because you’d be going with Aleksander, but of course, that wasn’t the case now. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Genya told you he’d been in to check on you while you slept, but you doubted it. You doubted a lot when it came to Aleksander these last seven days.

Genya set the box down on a small table near the fireplace in your room and she opened it up, humming softly to herself as she did, “Pink? I didn’t pin you as a pink girl.”

“Well, I am one. And it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You asked and watched as she pulled the gown out from the box.

It was beautiful. It was a pale shade of blush pink with long sleeves and lots of beautiful embroidery and bead work. The dress earned you an approving sound from Genya and she looked over at you as you sat on the edge of your bed.

“It is pretty, yes. I’m a bit worried you’ll stain it.” She said and eyed you with a frown, “Are you sure you want to go? You’re still so sick. Worse, even.” She said with a frown as she walked towards you and laid the dress out on the bed at your side.

“I want to go. We can go together. Besides, I’ve been stuck in here for so long now.” You said, sighing dramatically. Your throat burned with your sigh and Genya watched as you brought your fingers to your throat.

She quickly grabbed the waste bin next to your bed and held it up to you and you grabbed it. You coughed over it painfully for a few minutes, an array of petals and a few small thorns freeing themselves from your inflicted lungs. Genya held her hand against your back comfortingly and waited for you to spit the last of the sticky blood out and then she gently took the waste bin from your hands. She passed you a glass of water from your bedside table and you sipped it, even though it felt like you were swallowing broken glass.

“Y/n, you look awful.” Genya said sadly and pushed some of your limp hair away from your face.

You knew she was right. Your entire face had sunken in and you were aware of the dark circles under your eyes. Any luster your hair or skin once had was now gone and you looked dull and lifeless. You looked almost like a walking corpse. Your nails were thin and brittle and your lips were chapped and had traces of dried blood on them. You did look awful.

Realistically, you could use your abilities and make yourself look better, but you had absolutely no energy to do so. You were lucky if you had the energy to get up and take a walk with Genya. You sighed quietly and wiped your lips with the back of your hand and shrugged once. You shakily passed the glass of water back to Genya and you rubbed your eyes.

“Will you help me get ready? Nothing fancy, I just don’t wanna look so unhealthy.” You asked quietly and she nodded a couple of times.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then offered her hands down towards you. You accepted them gratefully and pulled yourself to your feet with her help and she passed you your dress.

“Go change, I’ll help you button up.” She prompted and you took the dress from her and wandered off towards the dressing screen in the corner of your room.

You slid behind it and undressed yourself with weak, shaking hands, and you pushed your nightdress off of your body. You tossed it aside and then took on the next task of stepping into the soft pink gown. You climbed into the dress clumsily and once you’d pulled the sleeves on and gotten it situated on your body, you wandered out from behind the screen. Genya awaited you by your bed and you made your way over to her and turned around so that the undone back of your dress faced her.

“You need to promise me one more thing.” Genya said quietly as she began to button up your dress nimbly.

“What is it?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at the redheaded girl.

“Avoid the Darkling at all costs tonight please. Your condition worsens after he’s around, I’ve seen it. Please just, don’t seek him out, stay away from him. Have fun, mingle, have a drink, but leave him alone. For your sake, please.” She begged softly and then finished buttoning your dress.

You nodded compliantly and you ran your hands down the front of your dress, smoothing it all down before turning around to face her. You smiled up at her and she pointed at a chair in the middle of the room.

“Sit. I’ll fix up your hair and make you look a little less tired.” She said softly and you walked towards the chair. You sat down in it and you closed your eyes, a prickling becoming bothersome at the back of your throat. You swallowed it down and winced at the sharp pain sliding back down your throat.

You just had to get through tonight.

Genya stood behind you and she worked at your hair for a while until it was in simple waves. She then walked around to face you and she determinedly waved her hand over your face a few times slowly. After nearly fifteen minutes of this, she pulled away from you and handed you a hand mirror.

“I did all that I could. How do you feel about it?” She asked.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Though you still looked frail, you didn’t look nearly even half as bad as you had beforehand. You looked as if perhaps you hadn't slept in a few days but otherwise you seemed healthy. You looked up at her with a smile and you nodded, passing the mirror back to her.

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” You said softly and she gave you a sweet smile in return and kissed the top of your head.

“I have to help the Queen get ready. Will you wait for me? I’ll come back and accompany you to the party.”

You looked over at her and gave her a little nod and stood up from the chair you sat in. You gave your friend a little hug and she hugged you back delicately, as if she was afraid you’d break.

“Thank you. Really, Genya. For everything.”

“Don’t start talking like that. It almost sounds like goodbye and I won’t have it. I’ll see you in an hour or two.” She stated and then marched out of your room.

Goodbye. You scoffed. You didn’t even want to think about goodbye yet.

But of course now you were faced with the reality of it all. There was no obtainable cure to your ailment. The thought of it spread dread through your body like you’d never felt before and you felt even sicker than you ever had prior to today.

A particular wave of nausea had you sprinting to the waste bin by your bed and you dropped to your knees and retched into it, your throat getting sliced up with an especially sharp slew of blood and thorns and a few battered petals. The door behind you opened and you heard a gasp from the doorway and wiped your face with the back of your hand before you turned around.

Still on your knees, you looked up to see Aleksander’s personal favorite Healer, Emilia, standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before she walked towards you and gently helped you to your feet. She looked over your shoulder into the wastebasket and then she looked up at your face, her mouth making a little ‘o’. She glanced back in the bin and then she shook her head.

“Are those…?”

“Yes. They’re petals. Why are you here?” You asked and slowly sat down on the edge of your bed.

“The Darkling sent me to check on you.” She whispered and then she placed her hand on your head, feeling your temperature.

“Genya is doing a fine job on her own, thank you, Emilia.” You wheezed and then leaned your head into your hands.

She stayed put for a moment and looked back and forth between you and your bloody, flowery vomit and then she gave you a tedious nod, “Yes, okay. I’m sorry to have intruded.“ she said quietly and you gave her only a small hum in response before she scuttled out of the room, retreating as if you were some feral dog, before you could even think to stop her. You would have certainly been wise to.

You glanced at the door and felt a cold, sick dread fill your stomach. She was going to tell Aleksander.

You sat, slumped, in the chair by your fireplace and you closed your eyes, letting out labored breaths. Your chest had become impossibly tight and you sat in fear that Aleksander would burst in and berate you at any moment now.

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought of just Aleksander and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t miss him. He was, at the end of the day, your best friend. Or at least, he had been. You didn’t really know where you stood with him now.

Panic gripped your lungs when you heard hurried footsteps down the hallway and when the door swung open you winced. No yelling ensued and you turned around to see Genya standing in the doorway, gazing over at you with a little frown.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She asked softly as she strode towards you.

You simply gave her a little nod and you rose to your feet off of the chair and grabbed onto the hand she was now extending for you. She helped you steady yourself and she frowned once, pulling you into a gentle side hug.

“Okay. The party has already started, I hope you don’t mind. There was a… choreographed display. Of shadow and light.” She explained slowly and then glanced down at you. You knew who she was talking about. Aleksander and Alina.

She gave you a sympathetic smile and you realized your face must have fallen, “I just figured you didn’t want to have to watch them.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you, Genya.” You said quietly and then nodded towards the door, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out long tonight, I don’t think.” You murmured, a frown ever present on your face.

She nodded just once and whisked you out of your room. The walk from the Little Palace to the Grand Palace was made in comfortable silence and you leaned your head against Genya’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gently patted your arm, and you let out a small sigh. As soon as the two of you walked inside of the Grand Palace, you instantly regretted coming to the fete.

People were crowded around the hallway and spilled out from the room of the event, leaving you hardly any space to breathe. You wrapped both of your arms around Genya’s and you nearly buckled under the wave of nausea that crashed over you.

Genya slowly pulled away from your side and she grabbed your hand and nodded towards the grand hall, “I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like one?” You nodded idly and she gave your hand a little squeeze, “Okay. Stay here. Don’t get around too many people.” She advised and you nodded again.

She scurried off hurriedly down the hall and you looked down at your dress. You ran your fingers down the embroidered bodice and you let out a little sigh. You sorely regretted not staying in bed and you looked around at the other partygoers. Some were drunk, others were just boisterous. Most hid their sordidness underneath fine clothes and expensive perfumes. You looked down at your feet and felt guilty for making Genya drag you to the party and you turned to go find her.

“Y/n!”

You turned around to see Alina bustling towards you with two guards in tow behind her. You had to blink back the urge to cry when you saw her. She wore a black kefta with yellow and gold embroidery and her hair was done up beautifully. The nausea hit you harder and you held your hand over your stomach instinctively, giving her a terse smile.

“Hello.” You breathed and leaned back up against the wall behind you.

“You look beautiful.” She commented sweetly, “Feeling better?” She asked and you gave her a bleary nod.

“Mhm, so much better.” You mumbled and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. A sharp feeling began to climb the back of your throat and you began to panic.

“I’m glad to hear, you look so pretty. I’ve missed you readying me.” She admitted and then chuckled nervously.

One of the guards leaned forward and mumbled something in her ear and she frowned, but nodded.

“I have to get going. But please, come see me tomorrow.” She pleaded and you gave her a simple nod, your throat and chest beginning to ache and burn all the same.

The guards urged her forward and everything began to sound as if you were underwater. You stared off absentmindedly after Alina and frowned deeply. Aleksander strode down the hall towards her and his eyes fell upon you. His stern expression seemed to falter a bit when he looked at you and you glanced down at the bundle of flowers he had in his hands. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily and you watched as he stopped the guards that stood with Alina and he passed her the flowers before he locked eyes with you again.

Your face burned with shame and sadness and your vision began to blur and shift and you pushed away from the wall dizzily, ignoring the muffled shouts of your name coming from his mouth. You shoved past a few people and gathered the skirts of your dress up in one hand and you rushed down the hallway. You stopped briefly a few times to steady yourself against the wall and you felt a sickening pressure at the back of your throat. You just had to make it back to your room.

You carried on almost deliriously and you made your way into the nearly totally empty Little Palace. You bustled up the stairs with your hand over your mouth when a sharp cough ripped its way up your throat and you heaved forward, falling to your knees on the stairs as you coughed violently. Tears burned in your eyes and fell down your cheeks helplessly as you spewed the hot, metallic mixture of your blood and bile over your gloved hand. You crawled up the stairs weakly and you pushed yourself to your feet, leaving a bloody smear on the marble floor. You stumbled hurriedly down the hall to your room and you threw your door open as soon as you could. You fell to your knees again and let out a long, sad wail before you were coughing out thorns and petals all over the pristine skirt of your dress.

The flowery vomit looked even worse tonight, and the blood mixed in with it was darker and there was much more of it. You coughed and heaved and choked on whatever was in your throat until an entire rose bloom came hurtling out of your mouth. You stared down at it shakily and reached out to touch it before you coughed again, much harder this time. Blood flew from your open mouth all over your carpet and your dress and your chin and you cried loudly, lowering yourself to the floor weakly. You reached up shakily to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and you looked around at the bloody mess you had made and you whimpered.

You thought about Aleksander again as you coughed more, your chest feeling as if it was going to collapse at any moment. You missed him. You desperately wished it was you that he gave his affections to. You loved him. It became impossibly hard to breathe and you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you could swear you heard him calling out for you; Something so bittersweet that brought you so much comfort as you laid in a mess of your own blood and shredded flower petals. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel cold exhaustion climbing up around your mind. You could still hear his voice, closer now. You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but at least you could try and make peace with it. You drew in a labored breath and then found yourself gasping in fear as you felt two hands grip your arms.

You were yanked up against somebody and you slowly looked upwards to see Aleksander kneeling over you, holding you against his chest.

“Say something, dammit!” He ordered, but his voice sounded far away.

You tried to speak his name but your chest seemed to collapse in on itself and you turned your head to cough away from him, not wanting to get any blood on him. As soon as you finished coughing, he gripped your chin and turned your head towards his and he stared down at you wildly.

“Y/n, I really, really need you to say something.” He pleaded and you weren’t sure if you were imagining the glint of unshed tears in his eyes or not.

You let out another wail and you tried to push away from him, but his arms were like steel around you and you were too weak to even attempt to get away from him, so you resigned to crying in his arms.

“Aleksander.” You wheezed and weakly grabbed onto the lapel of his kefta.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” He demanded and cradled you gently against his chest.

“You don’t care!” You cried, finding your very, very weak voice suddenly.

“I do care!”

“You don’t! You just care about Alina, you want Alina, you need Alina, you’re in love with Alina. You don’t care, and I don’t expect you to. Why should you? It’s my own miserable fault for falling in love with you.” You sobbed and felt as if you were going to vomit again.

Aleksander didn’t say a single word. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours and he nudged his nose against yours just slightly. You fought to get away from him, but he didn’t allow you to move. He shushed you softly as you cried and attempted to get as far away from him as possible and you sobbed, grabbing at his wrists.

“Stop! Please just leave me alone! I can’t take this.” You cried and hit his chest, but he still didn’t move.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled and eventually stopped trying to get away from him. He seemed to want to make it hard for you until your bitter end. One of his hands was gently moving through your hair as it had many nights ago and you whimpered, a sound that broke his heart.

“I care. More than you know, little love.” He murmured and kept his forehead pressed against yours, “You think I don’t care? How could I not? You are so special to me.”

You cried and subconsciously leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Please stop.” You begged. You wanted to cover your ears.

“Stop what? Do you not want to hear how I care? How I feel ashamed of myself for making you feel as if I don’t? Do you not want to hear about how in love with you I am?” He asked in a whisper and you froze. His hand continued to sweep through your hair and you let out a loud cry and struggled against his arms as he lifted his forehead away from yours.

“You’re lying.” You sobbed and brought your hands up to your face as you cried into them.

“I’d never lie to you about something like this.” He insisted softly.

“You are lying.”

“How can you accuse me of that?” He asked, his tone incredulous.

“Because I’m dying! I’m dying and you know it’s what I want to hear!” You argued, but you let your head fall against his chest nonetheless.

“I don’t lie. I’ve never lied to you. Saints, you’re inconsolable. I have my own reasons for getting close to Alina, but none of them are even close to being because I’m in love with her. No, my love is saved for you and you alone.” He murmured, “I have loved you for years. Ages. For so long, hoping and praying that perhaps you’d see me in the same light one day. I never wished for it to be like this.” He finished, voice breaking just slightly at the end.

You felt the tightness in your chest ease up just a little bit and you pulled your head away from his chest so that you could look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you. You studied his face for any sign that he might be lying to you and when you found none you leaned your head against the side of his arm. You weakly nuzzled your cheek against it and you could hear him let out a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you? Or are you just going to leave that to my Healer relaying information to me?” He asked and you shrugged once, more pressure leaving your chest.

You let out a pathetic sounding sigh and you clung to him as if someone was going to take him from you and you quietly began to explain your condition to him, leaving little to nothing out. When you finished, the silence around the two of you was painful and you looked up at his face. He seemed angry and he seemed as if he was going to cry, but he looked down and met your eyes, and everything on his face melted into sadness.

“I did this to you?” He asked quietly and you shook your head.

“You couldn’t possibly have known. I mean, I didn’t. None of us did until Genya found it in a book.” You murmured and he gathered you entirely against his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He breathed, his voice practically trembling.

“No, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You said hoarsely and he shook his head once but didn’t argue further.

He stayed quiet for a moment before he sniffled and then slowly rose to his feet, pulling you with him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? And then you can lay in my room.” He suggested quietly.

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning against him entirely.

You sat in Aleksander’s bed an hour or two later, wrapped in a few thick blankets. You watched him scurry around his room as he tried to ready himself for bed and you smiled affectionately. After a moment he turned to you and let out a small sigh.

“What are you smiling at? You should be sleeping.”

“Can’t. Not without you.” You murmured and he blew out a few candles in the room before he came and crawled into bed next to you, his arms snaking around your waist. He tugged you against his chest protectively and he let out a long sigh.

Your damp hair was splayed out over the pillow behind your head and you pushed it away from him, clearing a little space for his head on your pillow. He took the hint and scooted his face closer to yours and he nudged his nose against yours a few times.

“You looked so beautiful tonight. In the hallway. In your pretty dress. I think pink might be your color now.” He said sweetly and you shook your head, leaning in to peck his lips a few times.

He took the opportunity to capture your lips in a deep, long kiss and finally when the two of you were properly breathless, you pulled away and shook your head.

“Forget pink. Black looks nicer on me, anyway .”

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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fluffymaxsworld · 7 months

Text

i am so in love with simon riley, so here’s (another) fic<3

“neighbors”

[neighbors, wife material reader, fluff<33]

“morning”

“hello”

the brief interactions you and your next door neighbor, simon, had were so miserable. occasional smiles and pleasantries, but just when your eyes met his. quick hellos and polite waves, something the both of you didn’t care about.

he worked in the military, a cold, stern man, he never took part at the meetings between the neighborhood. he was good looking, no one ever said the opposite, but his mysterious demeanor was something girls didn’t wish of. sometimes he also disappeared for weeks and people swore they had see him with a skull mask.

on the other hand, you were a sweet girl, outgoing and caring, even for your grumpy neighbor.

that’s why you two met.

it was a cold friday, the apartments were silent like always. you decided to prepare cookies to “match the mood” so you left the house to buy the ingredients. on your way back you noticed simon. he was struggling with searching his keys in front of his door.

“you dropped them” you smiled sweetly, breaking the silence and pointing at the couple of keys on the floor.

in response he nodded, picking them up.

well, he wasn’t your best friend, but at least he could’ve said a short “thanks”.

“you’re back from another mission?” you asked him.

“yeah” he quickly replied, almost impatient of locking himself inside his house.

“you’re a great man. bye.” you waved and entered your apartment.

he nodded again and closed his door.

weirdo.

well, whatever, time for cookies!

in a couple of hours you baked at least a dozen of chocolate chips cookies. and what a kind soul like yours would do with half of them?

you packed a basket full of cookies and opened the door. you knocked twice at simon’s and waited for a reply.

“who’s there?” the deep voice asked.

“neighbor!” you replied lively.

he opened his door and looked at you. his big, muscular figure was… something else.

“i baked cookies, want some?” you said, handing him the chest.

“you sure?” he looked quite surprised, “i mean, thanks”

“i just thought you needed them, i mean, you’re in the military!” you said it almost jokingly, but you believe that he deserved to be cared about.

“thank you, really. do you want to grab a coffee?”

he invited you over. simon riley, feared man, skull-masked, military guy, invited you over to drink coffee and eat cookies.

“yeah, sure!” you nodded, how could you decline?

you stepped in, looking around.

his apartment was similar to yours in space terms, but completely the opposite when it comes to the arrangements.

the walls were a soft grey, a white couch filled the living room and a wooden table with a couple of chairs was almost hidden between the entry and a huge library full of books, military books, you guessed.

then you saw it, the famous skull mask everyone talked about. you thought it was a myth, something people invented because they were bored, but here it was, white plastic-like skull and black tissue.

“curious?” he interrupted your thought as he took the mask, “if you wonder if the rumors are true, yeah, it’s mine. i wear it during missions”

“oh, cool” you said, looking at it.

“are you scared of me?” he asked you, a unreadable tone in his dark voice.

“scared? why?” a half giggle escaped your mouth.

“the mask. the military thing. isn’t it scary?”

“i don’t think so. you’re interesting and being in the military should be a boast!” you sat down on the table, handing him one of the cookies.

he took one and bit into it, “tastes good.” he smirked slightly, “and thank you, by the way. i guess im not really liked here…”

“you shouldn’t care about what they think. they’re just idiots” you reassured him.

“well, i don’t have time to care. missions and work are my only priority right now” he sighed, biting on the cookie.

it almost sent you shivers. he doesn’t have nobody to wait him after his missions, his appearance scares away all the neighborhood. he needs a wife.

“do you have a partner?” you asked him, trying to sound nonchalant.

“why? wanna ask me out?” he joked, but you flushed a little, “no, i don’t. i don’t think i need a partner”

you avoided his fulminating gaze and kept talking, “man, you need a girl, believe me.”

“i don’t have time for stupid sloppy things like that. that’s for idiots”

“mmh, i don’t think so.” you said, giggling softly.

he let out a subtle laugh, looking at you, “i haven’t found the right woman yet, then”

“you’ll find someone, trust me”

and that’s how you and simon became close friends. every now and then, when he came back from missions, you were waiting for him with a basket full of cookies, muffins or a whole cake and a bright smile on your face.

and how bad, because he was starting to fall in love. in love with your eyes, hair, smile, oh, your smile. you drove him crazy. he felt cared about. when he was out for a mission he didn’t think only about coming back home alive, but coming back home alive for you. you made him dream in something when he was at his low.

it’s a snowy night, you baked a couple of muffins for simon. it’s been a month since he left for the mission and you really missed him. usually you knock at his door around 7pm, a quietly chosen appointment each time he would’ve come back home.

but not today, no, because you heard a knock.

“simon!” you smiled and opened the door.

“it’s been-” you couldn’t finish the sentence as he pulled you closer into a hug, a warm tight hug.

as you draw close, your bodies press together, creating a feeling of warmth and closeness. in that moment, your hearts synchronize, and the world around you seems to fade away.

“simon? are you okay?” you chuckled softly.

he buried his face deeper into your neck, your smell intoxicating him.

“i’m not great with words, y’know…” he started, “i… well, y’know, i’ve been away for awhile. i’ve risked my life more than once, and all i could think about was you. and i’m scared i could die without admitting what you made me feel”

“simon…” you looked at him, noticing his brown eyes full of worry and confusion.

“i’ve fallen for you, completely, deeply, insanely. you drive me crazy, you’re all i can think about. and i know i’m not the best man you’ll-”

you pulled him closer into a kiss, your lips finding his. you closed your eyes, he closed his, lost in the moment. you could feel your heart race faster, your body tingle in excitement. you shyly brought your hand to his cheeks, exploring his face, tracing the scars that his face was full of.

“i’ve been waiting for you” you whispered between the kisses.

“i love you” he finally said, his voice deeper than the usual and their eyes fixated on yours.

“i love you too, simon riley”

IM SO SORRY ITS SO MESSED UP BUT I NEED A DAMN BREAAAAK!!!

love y’all anyways :))

#ghost x reader #cod simon riley #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #fluff #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #neighbors #<3

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angel5ofp0rn · 14 days

Note

Can you tell us how John ex wife reacted when he cheated on her with reader

uhhhhhh sure!

Young!Price

Where ExHusband!Price tells his wife about you 🫣

*short lil blurb & I JUST WOKE UP SO BARE WITH ME PPL

John quietly walked through the front door of his home back in London. He was careful to keep the noise to a minimum so to not wake Theo.

Nadia was still up, waiting for him in the living room. She offered a tight lipped smile.

“Well, what is it?” Nadia asked as John kicked off his shoes by the door. “You can’t just say ‘we need to talk’ and then make me wait until you’re back in the country.”

John mumbled a weak apology as he sat down on the couch and rubbed his hand over his stubble.

“Listen, Nadia…”

“Just spit it out, John. I’m getting anxious over here.” Nadia chuckled softly, but nervously, as she sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“I met someone while I was in the states.” John exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“You met someone?” Nadia repeated with a blink. “Like, a woman?”

John nods, looking down at his hands.

“Oh my God…” Nadia’s eyes widen, grabbing John’s bicep and shaking him a bit. “Tell me everything!”

John laughs at her enthusiasm, though he was still guilt-ridden.

“I was at a bar with Simon and Kyle, and she approached me.”

“Naturally.” Nadia nods, familiar with how women practically throw themselves at her husband, even when she’s with him.

“She’s, erm… She’s pretty young. I tried to turn her down, I really did, but she followed me out to the bloody parking lot. Christ, she’s fuckin’ crazy…” John chuckles, his cheeks blushing pink. He felt like a teenager with a crush while he spoke about you. “But she’s amazing. I spent nearly every day with her. I… I really like her, Nadia.”

“Did you sleep with her?” Nadia asks with a cheeky grin.

John nods with a blush before he looks to Nadia almost ashamedly, like he shouldn’t be telling his wife about having feelings for another woman.

Because he shouldn’t be.

“So? Now what?” Nadia smiles, looking to John like she’s hearing the juiciest gossip.

“I need to be with her.” John confesses. “And her coming here isn’t an option… Her family’s in the states, and she’s going to school… But I need to be with her.”

Nadia’s smile faltered just a tiny bit. “So… you’ll be spending your dwell time in the states, then?”

John quickly shook his head. “I won’t if you don’t approve. I’ll stay here for you, for Theo.”

Nadia sighed, the weight of his words sinking in. “It’d be selfish of me to ask you to stay.”

“It’d be more selfish of me to leave.” John argues. “I… I’ve been sick at the thought of leaving you two here. Theo comes first, always.”

Nadia nods slowly, thinking over the options. She wants John to be happy, but she wants Theo to have his father around.

“I guess we’ll have to figure out a schedule.” Nadia suggests softly. “But I won’t ask you to stay. I want this for you.”

John’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Nadia nods, squeezing his hand supportively. “You deserve to do something for yourself for once. We both deserve to be happy. Theo deserves to see us happy.”

John takes in her words. She’s right, of course. Them staying together in this loveless marriage isn’t good for anyone.

“We can file for divorce as soon as tomorrow, if you’d like.” Nadia offers with a small shrug. “The sooner the better, really. I’ve got my eye on a regular at the cafe.” She grins.

“Thank you.” John nearly whispers, pulling Nadia in for a hug. She chuckles as she hugs him back.

<< prev next >>

#captain john price #young!price #captain price #call of duty #captain john price x reader #john price #price headcannon #cod headcanons #cod smut #cod x reader #dad!price #cod mwii #young john price #price headcanons #captain price fluff #captain price smut #price x reader #price #x reader

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corroded-hellfire · 9 months

Text

Jitters - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: It's the first day of school for the Munson children--ever for Eliza, but their dad is being the biggest baby of them all.

Note: With all the back-to-school excitement going on I thought, "What would Eddie be like when Eliza first starts school?" So, voila. As always, I am so thankful for all of you who read and have the loveliest things to say 💕

Words: 3.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

If someone were to take bets on which Munson is the most miserable on the first day of school, they might pick Ryan. Sixteen years old, starting his junior year, and seemingly irritated by every move someone makes.

They might pick fourteen-year-old Luke, the Tasmanian Devil himself, constantly lamenting about how boring his teachers are.

Or they might pick Eliza, no longer getting to be the big fish in the daycare’s small pond, but now a full-fledged preschooler—one who is not happy about getting up early.

Any of these would be fine guesses. But they would also be dead wrong.

“My babies are all grown up!” Eddie bemoans, watching Eliza slide a comically oversized Little Mermaid backpack over her tiny shoulders. He stares at his sons as they shove their feet into their new sneakers, conveniently ignoring the repeated warnings not to break their shoes.

Ryan catches his dad looking at them and rolls his eyes. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he quips, groaning when Eddie dashes into the bedroom to grab his camera. “Crap, I didn’t mean literally.”

“Swear jar!” Luke chirps, all-too excited to catch his big brother slipping up.

“‘Crap’ isn’t a swear word, dumbass.”

“Another dollar in the swear jar!” Luke roars, nearly colliding with the wall as he darts away from Ryan before the elder boy can get his hands on him.

You give the two boys a biting glare from across the room. If you can't keep them from using bad language all the time, they at least need to adhere to the rule when their little sister is in the room. Luckily, Eliza is currently admiring her new black Mary Jane shoes and was paying no mind to what was happening around her.

Before Ryan and Luke can start bickering again, you herd them over to the side of the living room where the lighting is the best for pictures.

“Come on, come on,” you say as you practically push them across the space. “Dad’s getting the camera, let’s get this show on the road.”

Ryan groans and drops his head back in irritation. “Can’t you just take some of Eliza? You have enough of us.”

“We never have enough of you,” you tell him, moving towards him on instinct to press a kiss to the top of his head—only to come face to face with the reminder that he’s taller than you now. “Eliza, come on over here, baby girl.”

Eliza looks up from where she’s now inspecting the pink overall dress she’s wearing. Her two curly little pigtails bounce with every motion. She hikes up her green sparkly princess backpack as she skips towards you. She becomes derailed, however, when Eddie walks back into the room. Eliza diverts her attention and makes a not-quite-a-surprise attack on his legs.

“Rawr! Gotchu Daddy!”

“Oh no!” Eddie feigns, clasping the camera to his chest. “I guess I can’t take you to preschool then, huh? Such a shame.”

“Nice try,” you tell him. “She’s still going.”

Eddie’s brows furrow together in another one of the little pouts he’s been giving you for the past few days. He thinks his baby girl is growing up too fast—does he think you don’t feel the same way? You just don’t show your emotions as expressively as your husband does.

“She’s only three,” Eddie says about your daughter. “Shouldn’t we wait until she’s at least four?”

“She’ll be four next month, Eddie,” you remind him. “This is when she’s supposed to start preschool.”

The sullen father has nothing to say in response to that, so he just looks down at the camera and fiddles with it, making sure there’s enough film and that it’s on the right settings. You take the opportunity to walk over towards Ryan.

“Was he this bad when Luke started school?” you ask in a hushed voice.

Ryan considers it for a moment before shrugging. “In my childhood mind, no. But I also used to believe it when Dad told me I’d look like Popeye if I ate my spinach, so who knows?”

“I can only imagine how he was with you.” With a small smirk, you grab Ryan’s arms and give him a small shake from side to side. “His first born,” you coo in a sickeningly sweet tone. Ryan shoos you away from him, but you can see the smile on his face that he’s trying his damndest to hide.

In the meantime, Luke grabs a Kleenex box from the kitchen counter, lowering onto bended knee and presenting it to Eddie.

“A gift for thou, Sir Sobs-a-Lot,” he says, adopting an exaggerated British accent.

Eddie thumps him on the back of the head, but takes a tissue regardless.

“Wayne always said I’d be screwed if my kids were as weird as me,” he muses.

“Dad,” Luke fake-whines, “don’t say that about Eliza!”

Eliza furrows her little eyebrows and makes a run for her brother, charging towards him like a provoked rhinoceros.

Luke is quicker, though, and holds her prisoner against his chest with a menacing cackle.

“Mean brother,” Eliza mumbles, face smushed against him.

He grins triumphantly. “That’s why you love me so much.” He presses a big smacking kiss to her cheek and lets her go, gasping in feigned offense when she wipes it away and wanders back to Eddie.

“Time for school! Let’s gooooooo, Daddy!” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door, equal parts eager and exasperated.

Eddie obliges, but you can tell that this isn’t easy for him. “Why is she so eager to leave?” he asks you under his breath. “Ryan and Luke were practically wrapped around my ankles begging me to let them stay home.”

“I think she’s just excited to meet new friends and learn new things!” you say with a smile, trying to hold back your own tears. “Isn’t that right, Liza Bean?”

Eliza nods vigorously. “Luke says I get Play-Doh!”

“Remember,” Luke crouches down to tell her, “it’s important that you taste the Play-Doh before you use it.”

The comment earns him another thump to the head from Eddie.

“Please don’t eat Play-Doh,” you beg your daughter. Or listen to anything Luke says, you silently add.

“Yeah, just stick to your lunch,” Ryan offers, always the voice of reason.

“Lots of fruits and veggies,” Luke jumps in. “Remember why?”

“SCURVY!” Eliza proudly shouts, beaming from ear to ear.

Eddie exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose, at a total loss for words. “Can you crazy children just take the pictures so we can go?” he finally manages, patience sufficiently worn thin.

“Sir, yes, sir!” the boys salute in unison.

“Yes, sir!” Eliza chimes in, happy to emulate her big brothers.

You take the camera from Eddie when you see his jaw clench. You’d been afraid of your daughter having a meltdown today, but you obviously should have been worrying about her dad.

“Okay,” you say, nodding for them to arrange themselves in front of the wall for a picture, “all three of you, first.”

Begrudgingly on the part of the teenagers, and happily on the part of the little girl exiting toddlerhood, they come together and manage to stand still while you grab a few shots of them.

“Now just Ryan, then Luke, then Liza,” you instruct. Ryan rolls his eyes as his two younger siblings step away from him.

“This is never going to end,” he mumbles.

Figuring it’s just easier to ignore him, you get your pictures of Ryan before moving on to solo Luke and then Eliza. “Now get in there, Dad,” you tell Eddie, gesturing him over to join the kids.

The moment Eddie is within reaching distance of her, Eliza raises her tiny arms to her father and insists that he holds her in the picture. Eddie, unable to deny her anything as always, complies.

“Just me and Daddy!” Eliza says.

“Eliza’s will be done,” you say before snapping one of just the pair of them.

“All right, all right,” Luke says, motioning for you to give him the camera. “You get in there, too. We’ve got a monumental day here. Another Munson in the school system.”

As you pose next to your daughter and husband, you see Ryan out of the corner of your eye. He leans in behind you and holds up two fingers as bunny ears behind Eliza’s head. His little sister didn’t see him, but she was going to get a kick out of that once you got the pictures developed. Luke also noticed the photobomber, so he takes another nicer picture.

“We ready to go now?” Luke asks. “Big day for me too, ya know. Starting high school and all. No one’s all fussy over me and I bet it’s because I don’t have pigtails. Damn.”

Eddie claps Luke on the shoulder as you take the camera from your son. “Didn’t wanna make ya nervous, kid,” Eddie says. “Also, dollar in the swear jar.”

Luke scoffs and presses a hand to his chest. “Have I ever been nervous a day in my life?”

“Well,” Ryan starts with a smug smile, “that depends if you count the time that you got paired up with Missy Collins for that science project.”

Luke’s face turns pink and his nostrils flare. You’re almost taken aback because you think this is the most flustered you’ve ever seen the usually cool and mischievous boy. Luke goes from standing perfectly still to lunging toward his older brother in milliseconds.

Ryan just lets out a whooping laugh and dodges him by heading outside. Luke is hot on his tail.

Eliza looks up at you and shakes her head, little brown pigtails swaying with the motion.

“Boys,” she says, an air of sophistication older than her three years in her tone.

“Boys,” you agree, offering her your hand. Her little fingers slide into your own and you head out the front door behind the two teenagers. Eddie grabs his keys and follows his family out.

The keys jingle in your husband’s hand, a nervous tic as he walks over to the car and unlocks it. The three kids pile into the back and Eliza and Luke bicker over buckling her car seat as you slip into the passenger’s side.

“Everyone have everything?” Eddie asks as soon as the arguing stops. “Backpacks? Lunches? Or lunch money?”

A chorus of “yes” comes from the backseat so Eddie starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, instantly wishing he could turn around and take everyone back home.

You, Eddie, and Eliza somehow arrive at the preschool on time, but not before your daughter had thoroughly embarrassed her brothers on the high school drop-off line. She’d begged Eddie to roll down her window so she could yell to them as they joined their friends.

“Bye, Ryan! Bye, Lukie!” she’d shouted. “I love you!”

You and Eddie thought it was hilarious. Luke and Ryan? Not so much.

But now, your husband is a total wreck as Eliza marches full steam ahead towards the school’s doors. Truthfully, you’re almost as bad as he is, but you’re trying to keep it together—for Eliza’s sake and for Eddie’s.

“You ready, Eliza?” You crouch down and place your hands on her shoulders.

“Yep!” She nods, baby teeth on full display when she grins excitedly.

Eddie narrows his eyes in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks, making you roll your eyes.

“Yep!” Eliza repeats; thankfully, she’s oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“You’re going to have a great time and make lots of new friends,” you tell her.

“And I’ll be right here, ready to pick you up when it’s over,” Eddie adds as he crouches down next to you.

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes again or elbow Eddie in the ribs.

Eliza nods her head, little pigtails bouncing with the movement. She hikes her backpack up higher and gives you both another wide smile.

“Ready to go in?” you ask.

“Uh huh.”

You take her hand and she leads you into her new classroom, Eddie following along behind you. He’s quite literally dragging his feet, a human version of Eeyore the donkey.

A teacher, not too much younger than you, comes up to greet you all. “Hi, everyone!” she chirps in a tone that signals over-caffeination. “Welcome to preschool! I’m Miss Riley, your teacher.”

For the first time this morning, Eliza seems hesitant. She looks up at you for approval and you nod your head at her.

“I’m Eliza Marie Munson,” she announces, and you bite back a laugh at her formality.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eliza,” Miss Riley says. “You’ve got both Mommy and Daddy with you here today, huh?”

“Yep! Was just gonna be Daddy but then Mommy said she didn’t think he’d really take me here.”

You squeeze your lips together as your daughter calls out your husband’s behavior; Eddie closes his eyes, a small smile appearing on his face. Both of you know (partially due to your experiences with Luke and Ryan when they were younger) that anything that went on in your house that Eliza knew about would be fair game to be shared with her whole class.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here,” Miss Riley replies, holding a hand out for a high-five that your daughter eagerly returns. “Would you like me to show you where your cubby is?”

“Okay!” Eliza turns around and waves to you and Eddie. “Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!”

“No hugs?” Eddie asks, a pout forming on his plush lips.

Eliza rolls her eyes as if this is the most unreasonable request she’s ever heard, but obliges.

You give her a tight squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re gonna have an amazing day, baby girl,” you remind her.

“I know, Mommy.”

Eddie’s hug can only be described as bone-crushing, with Eliza letting out a dramatic grunt as he holds her.

“Eliza Munson, you are the smartest, bravest little girl I know,” he says, voice catching in his throat. “I want you to go out there and kick some a—butt,” he hurriedly amends, but not before earning a glare from you.

“Most importantly, be nice,” you emphasize, hoping your advice trumps Eddie’s little half-time pep talk.

“I will!” Eliza happily declares before following Miss Riley over to the cubbies.

Eddie looks back and forth from her to you. “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all we get?”

“What did you want?” you ask as you slip your hand into your husband’s. “Want her to cry and beg you to take her back home?”

“Well, no.” At your disbelieving eyebrow raise Eddie shrugs and amends his statement. “Not entirely.”

“We got hugs and goodbyes,” you point out. “Ryan barely acknowledged us, and Luke gave you a Wet Willy. I think we should cut our losses.”

“I know,” Eddie says, letting out a defeated sigh.

You gently tug him in the direction of the door to exit. “She’ll be fine,” you reassure him with a whisper. “And she’ll be so excited to tell you all about it later.”

Eddie nods, and just as the two of you are about to walk out the door, something rams into Eddie’s legs. He looks down to see Eliza grinning up at him, little arms wrapped around his knees.

“What’s up, Sweet Pea?” he asks, suddenly worried that something’s wrong. Was someone mean to her? Did she forget her lunch at home?

She jumps like a little jumping bean until she’s right in front of the two of you.

“I love you!”

Your heart swells and the pressure of tears is heavy behind your eyes. There’s no way you can look at Eddie because clocking his emotion will absolutely send you over the edge.

Eddie’s already tearing up though and has a bright smile on his face. “We love you too, Liza Bean,” he tells her. “So much.”

She giggles and you scoop her up in your arms. “We love you more than anything.”

You and Eddie press kisses to her cheeks at the same time, and Eddie blows a raspberry with his, making her giggle.

Once you set her down, Eliza blows you both a kiss before skipping over to a table where a few kids are drawing, already settling in.

Eddie wipes at his eyes as the two of you step out of the classroom and into the hall. “That’s what I wanted,” he admits with a tearful chuckle.

You wrap your arms around one of Eddie’s and lay your head on his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask him.

“No.” He sighs when you press a reassuring kiss against his shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep it together for your sake,” he says.

At his words, you pull away to look at him, eyebrows raised. “This was you holding it together?” you ask.

“Oh, this could’ve been way worse, babe.”

You chuckle as he slips his hand into yours, knowing that he’s likely telling the truth.

The two of you take one last look inside the classroom and see Eliza talking and laughing with a little girl and boy at her table.

“Come on,” you say, patting the back of Eddie’s hand with your free one.

With a reluctant sigh, Eddie starts to walk with you towards the exit.

“And I know Miss Riley is younger than me but don’t get any ideas.” You smirk and nudge his shoulder with your own, trying to joke around and cheer him up a bit.

Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, she’s a teacher. I only go for babysitters.”

The late summer morning is hot as you make the journey back to your car. Still the gentleman as always, Eddie opens your door for you.

“Man,” he shakes his head as you slip into the passenger’s seat. “I can’t believe my baby is in preschool.”

He closes your door and walks around to his side, giving you time to open your purse and pull out a small object, hiding it beneath your hands in your lap. He starts the car, though you’re fairly certain your heartbeat is louder than the engine.

“Well,” you start before clearing your throat. Eddie looks over at you and there’s suddenly a million butterflies not only in your stomach, but throughout your whole body. “She’s not going to be the baby for long…”

You hand Eddie the test, watching as his expression shifts from sadness to confusion to awe as he stares at the two pink lines.

“You’re pregnant?” The excitement in his voice rivals that of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm, grinning with your own excitement. The emotions that you've been trying to corral all day finally come out, relief and giddiness flowing through you as you tell your husband what you've been dying to amongst all the other chaos of the day.

Eddie lunges across the center console to wrap you up in his arms, letting the positive test drop into his lap. “Holy shit, princess.”

“I know,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie’s still in shock, grinning from ear to ear and rubs his hands over his face. “We’re gonna have another baby,” he says, just to hear it aloud.

“And just think,” you say, “you get to do this first day of preschool thing again.”

His nose wrinkles at that prospect. “Maybe I’ll just homeschool this one.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanart #AYW #AYWS #older!eddie

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cypherthesuccubus · 2 months

Text

Let daddy take the reigns~

Luci x Reader -Part 2- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!!

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, praise kink, body worship, cock worship, pussy worship, gentle dom luci, edging, tail play, she/ her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie

Other tags: Fluff, angst

Luci is the aftercare king~ ✨

Here is part 2!!!! Things are getting interesting~ what’s gonna happen next?!?! 😈💕✨

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

I’m starting to regret choosing this movie without really looking at the genre. It looked like a comedy in the trailer! I guess they forgot to mention there was a romantic interest in the movie! For a romantic comedy, this love scene was getting….really intense. Did something change with the genre romantic comedy? No it can’t be that; this has to mean something else. The couple were now on the bed; taking off the last remaining bits of clothes. My cheeks started to heat up as a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach grew ever more stronger. Oh My God!! Why am I letting myself get turned on by this film, while Lucifer is sitting next to me?!?! He literally has gone through a divorce with Lilith only a year ago; I shouldn’t be thinking such things while next him. He probably feels so uncomfortable right now; I should just change the movie. “How about we do change the movie, huh? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anyth-ING.” I go wide eyed as Luci pulled me in by the shoulders; giving me a surprise kiss out of no where. I pushed him slightly to break the kiss “W-w-what are you doing?” He eased his grip on my shoulders; leaning back slightly to give me a little space to process what happened. “I-I’m sorry (Y/N)! I-I just….really wanted to kiss you just now. I’m really sorry if you wasn’t ready for it or didn’t want it to happen.” I shook my head “No no no no you’re good! It’s just that….w-wouldn’t kissing you….be wrong? Considering the circumstances?”

He shook his head as he gives low chuckle “You know I thought the same thing…..but honestly, I don’t think it’s wrong to want what you…..desire most~” He slowly runs his hands down my shoulders; leading them to snake their way around my waist “But…..but it hasn’t been that long since….Lilith.” He cuts me off with another kiss, only this time with a lot more passion than the first one. I wanted to fight back against this…..but my body wouldn’t let me. It was screaming for more. He lays me down on my back as he now is on top of me; pressing his body against mine as the fevered kiss grew. I felt something hard poke against my inner thigh; pushing against his chest gently to break the kiss “Luci….we can’t do this. I don’t want us to do anything if it’s gonna be awkward later.” He chuckles as he kisses my forehead “I don’t think this is gonna get awkward later…..if anything~” He starts to run his hands up my sides until they reached my breasts; cupping them as he gently massages them “I would be wanting more from you~” I moan softly as his thumbs start to rub across my nipples through my clothing; my hips instinctively arched up against him. “Ooooo~ I’ll definitely want to see more of this~” He stops his massaging as he goes to reach for the hem of my shirt; running his hands up under my shirt as he lifts it up over my bra.

“You’re so gorgeous~ I want to see them more clearly~” He starts lifting the shirt over my head; tossing it on the floor as he quickly reaches behind my back for the bra clasps. Finally getting the clasps to give in, he pulls the bra down and to the floor like the shirt; revealing my breasts as they moved with my heavy breathing. “Luci~ w-we can’t…..w-what if Lilith decides that she wants you back? I don’t want any-“ He cuts me off with another kiss; our tongues wrap and caress each other in a fever dance. He breaks the kiss as he cups my cheeks; staring into my eyes. “She’s not coming back…..even if she wanted to. There’s literally nothing for her to come back to, except for Charlie. Coming back for her daughter is the only concern she should have.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek; a slow smile appears on my face. “So….you won’t take her back, even if she wanted to work things out?” He smiles down at me as he brushes a couple a strands of hair behind my ear. “No…..she missed that opportunity the moment she walked out.” He leans in as our lips are inches from each other “All I want now….is you~” He connected our lips once more as his hands find their way back to my breasts; massaging them while occasionally kneading my nipples. I moan into the kiss; slowly wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him in deeper.

(Luci’s P.O.V)

God!~ I can’t explain how much I want (Y/N) right now~ Her body is so soft to touch; the way she writhes and arches against me; moaning into our kiss is enough to get me addicted. All I want to hear is her…screaming my name over and over again~ I take one of my hands to slowly make itself down her stomach; reaching into her shorts as I slide my fingers against her soaking wet folds. Her breath hitches as her hips buck against my hand. She was very reactive~ Oh I’m gonna enjoy her throughly~ I start moving my fingers up and down her slit; coating the digits generously with her fluids. She breaks the kiss as she tilts her head back “Ahh~ L-Luci~” I grin widely; just hearing her say my name made my cock twitch against my pants. I can’t wait any longer!~ I grab the hem of her shorts; ripping them clean off her along with her panties. Fffffuuuck!~ She’s like a goddess!~ laying in my bed completely exposed to me~ I place my hands on her knees; spreading them open as I lower myself to her pretty little wet pussy. “Luci~….please~…I need you~” I wrap my arms around her thighs to hold her in place; her cunt just inches away from my mouth “Then prepare yourself babygirl~ I’m not gonna stop until you are begging for more~”

My tongue slithers out my mouth as it makes contact with her sopping cunt. I slowly drag my tongue up her slit; brushing the forked tip against her clit. She moaned loudly as she arches her back into the bed “Ffffuck!~ k-keep going~” I smirk against her as I lick a little faster against her slit; causing her to grand against my mouth. I soon slide my tongue into her waiting hole while my mouth occupied her clit; softly sucking while I tongue fucked her. She grinds harder into my mouth; trying to chase her climax, only for me to stop and back off. She whined at the loss of my tongue “W-why did you stop?” I chuckle darkly “I want to see how long you can last until you’re begging for daddy to fuck you~” I go back to devouring her as she lets out a pleasured scream; thrashing her head back against the bed. I kept edging her like this for a while until she was a trembling mess; her body aching for release that keeps being denied. “LUCI!~” I cut her off again “No no no babygirl~ That’s not what you call me~…..beg for me properly~” She whimpers as she sits up on her elbows; starting at me with half lidded eyes “Pleeease~…..please fuck me, daddy~” I grin widely; eyes darkening as I snap my fingers; making my clothes disappear. She looks down at my cock; going wide eyed as she see how girthy I really am. “Get ready for me babygirl~ Daddy is gonna rock your world~”

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #18+ content #18+ only #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer smut #hazbin smut #self insert #18+ account #18+ post #18+ blog

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papaya-twinks · 28 days

Note

Can u do, like, Lando’s diary, maybe?

Warnings: Swearing, Stalker!Lando, pretending to be someone else.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - A few or Lando’s diary entries

A/N2 - I write my dates in the British format or DD/MM/YYYY not MM/DD/YYYY

01/05/2024

Dear Fucking Diary,

I dunno why I decided to write a flipping diary, but I guess I am. Well. Check on my day, I guess? Did shitty media, met some fans. Nothing big. Nothing unusual. Fuck it.

02/05/2024

Dear Fucking Diary,

Sooooooooooooooooooooooo, things have changed up a bit. I was in the garage and I saw this really, really pretty girl angel and oh my god, I swear, love at first sight. Seriously, she’s gorgeous. I can’t get over her. So I asked Oscar and decided to put up with the few minutes of teasing, because man, I couldn’t not know who she was, ya know? Fill in tomorrow

03/05/2023

Dear Fucking Diary,

Her names Y/N. I’m not a stalker, I swear, but I couldn’t, like, not find all her socials and stuff. They’re on private though. Fucks sake. So, I made the very very deep decision to make another instagram account and follow her. Maybe I’d get her interested. So I sent her a DM. Acting as if I had the wrong Y/N. Though god, I wish I knew other people called Y/N. Her name’s gorgeous. Got practise now. Write tomorrow.

04/05/2024

Dear Fucking Diary,

She accepted my follow request. We talked for a bit. She thinks my name’s Oscar. Sorry to actual Oscar. But god, she’s so pretty. We called for a bit, surprised she didn’t recognise my voice. Well, we didn’t work close enough to do so anyways. She worked on Oscar’s side of the garage. She was so clueless, it felt like a game. Not in a good way, how would I ever come clean?

05/05/2023

Dear Fucking Diary,

She’s pretty. She hasn’t blocked me, I’m surprised, but I flicked through her socials. She’s so pretty, oh my god. I told Oscar. He told me to come clean. But how? What if she thought I was a freak or a stalker? I mean, I technically was. But like, what if she exposed me and ruined my whole career? Forget that, what if I lost her? I can’t.

06/05/2024

Dear Fucking Diary,

Hi lando, you left your diary in Oscar’s driver room. Fucking stalker.

13/05/2024

Dear Fucking Diary,

You read what she wrote, I’m fucked. She hasn’t turned up to work for a week. I’m scared. She’s blocked me on everything, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I asked Zak about her, he doesn’t know. I don’t want her to leave, I can’t stand the thought of her with someone else. Fuck this diary. It’s a curse.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #f1

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ju1cyfru1t · 9 months

Text

Timeless (Rise!Leo x Reader) (2012! Leo x reader)

ROTTMNT + 12’ TMNT x reader

Rise! Y/N meets 2012! Y/N

^could be read as Rise! Or 12! Leo x reader?

fluff :) gn reader, romantic, Drabble

SO SO PROUD OF THIS 🫶🏻

You still would've been mine

We would have been timeless

I would've read your love letters every single night

And run away and left it all behind

You still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this

So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine

We would've been timeless

“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re saying you’re me?” You shook your head as you processed, staring at…well, yourself. They looked like you, just ever so slightly different. They felt different, too.

“I know, right?” They laughed, looking down. It was evident they were just as shell-shocked (pun intended) as you. I mean, it really is baffling. Whether you believe it or not, the multiverse is actually real. You would think will everything you’ve seen in your time of knowing the turtles, this wouldn’t be so shocking.

But this was all so overwhelming. There’s another you? Not to mention another Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Splinter, April; all so different from each other…and another Leo.

“So…your Leo is really something, huh?” They cleared their throat, motioning their head towards the two blue-clad turtles. Your Leo was laughing obnoxiously (, probably at one of his own jokes,) and their Leo looking a little embarrassed.

“You could put it that way…” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face. He was your Leo.

They snickered in response, “For sure…mine is a little dense, but I still love him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up to meet theirs, full of surprise. “Wait…you guys are, like…a thing?”

“Yeah, you guys aren’t?” They seemed confused, almost like they already knew the answer.

“No, no, we are…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You looked away, your head spinning with questions.

I mean, how was this even possible? Are there other versions of you? What are they like? What have these turtles faced? …Does this mean soulmates are real?

You looked up to them once again, hesitating. “Do you think it’s like this in every timeline?”

They met your gaze with a warm grin, taking your hand in theirs before looking back at their Leo then to yours, “I really hope so.”

You didn’t say it, but you did too. You really, really, really did. You wanted every iteration of you to find what you two have. To be pulled by the invisible string of fate and find each other. Even if every Leo wasn’t the same, that there would always be one similarity. That he would your Leo. And you’re sure that every version of you felt that way, too, especially the one sitting in front of you now.

“Please,” they spoke up again, “I want to hear all about you…and your Leo, I guess.”

You laughed openly, nodding, “where do I even start?”

…………………………….…………………………….………………….

versions for Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and April???

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soulkeeper801 · 3 months

Text

Setbacks - Chou Tzuyu pt 1

Tzuyu x f!reader

Fluff, suggestive?

The girls find out they are the reason why Tzuyu isn't getting some with you

1.5k words

(italics are for flashbacks in this one!)

Part 1:

The laughter echoing the room surrounded nine girls who were excitedly telling stories that probably would have stayed in their minds if it weren’t for the alcohol in their veins.

“That’s when I knew she was the one,” Jihyo slurred, taking another sip of her beer can, “it was the way her tongue pressed against me that made me just…” she shuddered, gaining tipsy giggles from her friends who had their cheeks tinted pink.

“I guess I’ll have to try that with Miyeon,” Sana chipped in shyly, getting cheers from the other girls. “I mean, the sex is good but we can always improve it, right?”

Nayeon nodded firmly before turning her head to the youngest of them all.

“You haven’t said a word,” the older girl pointed out, her eyes squinting at their maknae’s evasive gaze.

“I bet Y/N is really good at it,” Chaeyoung nudged Tzuyu, trying to get her to tell all the nasty details of your love life, “she looks like the kind to be in control, don’t you love that Tzuyu?”

Tzuyu was shy. All the stories her unnies told a couple of minutes ago were hot, really hot. She didn’t know sex could be enjoyed in so many different ways. She wasn’t inexperienced, in fact, she had several ex lovers that taught them all she knew so far.

However, you were her first girl. It was all new for her.

Since the first time you saw each other, your fate was sealed. The instant connection between the two of you couldn’t be denied, everyone saw it so it wasn’t a surprise when she finally came out to her members and eventually they helped her to get to you.

You were kind, passionate, she loved the way you made her feel but…

“We haven’t done it yet”.

Tzuyu was embarrassed.

No, scratch that. Tzuyu was mortified.

Those words shouldn’t have left her mouth, shouldn’t even have left her mind. It was a split of a second that she lost control of her own actions due to the alcohol and the words simply slipped out.

Eight pairs of widened eyes directed at her, trying to process what their maknae said.

“But…” Chaeyoung carefully replied, “haven’t you gotten together almost four months ago?”

Tzuyu groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Five,” she whispered, feeling her face getting even redder than before.

No one said a word for several minutes, trying to avoid any more awkward moments for her. It was enough that she had told them you two have zero sex life in all those months of dating.

“Well,” Mina said, trying to avoid eye contact, “it’s okay if you wanna wait or if she wants to wait for the right moment, there’s no rush for such things. You can even decide it doesn’t have to happen and it would be totally fine”.

The other girls agreed immediately, nodding to Mina’s words and trying to encourage Tzuyu.

“But…” the youngest replied sadly, “I do want it to happen… I just…”

“You don’t know how?” Jihyo asked, carefully, trying not to cross any more boundaries.

“I guess I kind of know how,” Tzuyu replied, “I just don’t know if she wants it too”.

A chorus of understanding replies were heard and it relieved a little of Tzuyu's worries.

“Haven’t you talked about it?” Mina asked.

And Tzuyu tried to remember when was the last time you tried to talk it out.

“This movie is weird,” Tzuyu said, lifting her head from your chest and locking her gaze with yours. Her body was sprawled out on the living room couch she shared with her members.

“It is,” you agreed, caressing her waist with the hand that was firmly gripping her side. Your fingertips passed softly over the side of her boob.

Her breath hitched.

You felt her head find its place on the crook of your neck but this time her arms wrapped your waist as she pushed her hand under your shirt to caress your tummy.

“I’m going to find another movie,” you suggested while pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

With one hand, you took the remote and kept scrolling through several titles, trying to get an idea of whatever those movies could be about. With the other, you pulled Tzuyu against your body and your fingertips kept drawing patterns on her skin.

She couldn’t help but let the desire run through her body, wishing you could finally and properly play with her now hardened nipples.

Tzuyu didn’t understand why it was so difficult with you. In her previous relationships, the guys she dated couldn’t even wait to feel her up. In less than two dates, they were already under her shirt, trying to open also her jeans button.

“Wanna go to my room?” she simply asked.

Deep in her heart, she wished it would have come out as a sexy whisper, as a suggestive invitation to do whatever you wanted to do to her. Her mind was foggy with desire for you and the only thing she wanted at that moment was to have you between her legs.

Your gaze found hers trying to decipher what those beautiful eyes were trying to say.

And as soon as you were about to reply, the front door opened, revealing two loud girls with their shopping bags ready to show them what they had gotten from their last spree.

Tzuyu groaned.

“Sorry about that,” Jihyo said, remembering it was her and Nayeon a couple of months ago.

“So you were gonna do it before you got interrupted,” Chaeyoung reasoned, elbowing the youngest, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Were we?” Tzuyu asked, rhetorically. “I mean, I don’t know for sure if she wants it too, I’m just assuming she was going to say yes”.

“Come on,” Jeongyeon replied, “of course she wants it, you just have to see the signs!”

“But what are those signs?” Tzuyu asked again, “when I was with guys, I knew because I could physically see their… you know… but what am I supposed to see when I’m with her? How do I know she also wants it?” she grimaced, shoving her face into her hands once again.

“Haven’t you made out until you give each other that look?” Jihyo asked, trying to see if Tzuyu was missing anything.

“You look tired,” you said softly, noticing Tzuyu getting too comfortable on the floor of their practice room.

“I am,” she pouted, feeling your hands roaming her back, your fingers making pressure right behind her neck. She pushed her head to the side so you could keep going with the little massage you were providing her.

“You are tense,” you said, getting a slight nod from her. “I know what’s going to help you relax,” you proposed, not even giving her a second to react before pressing your lips against the skin of her neck.

A long sigh left her lips. You kissed the side of her neck up to her ear where you whispered sweet nothings as your arms wrapped around her waist.

She turned around and captured your lips with hers. You pressed your bodies together as she pushed you against the wall.

As soon as your back hit the glass, you took the chance to shove your tongue in her mouth, trying to bring her even closer. She let you have dominance and let a soft moan leave her lips.

Your hand made its way up to her chest, ghosting over her clothed boob, when she pushed her chest against you and you finally massaged her the way she was craving. You left a needy groan off your lips when you realized how hard her nipple was and lowered your kisses to her neck.

Tzuyu threw her head to the side to give you more access when your other hand made its way under her shirt. As soon as your fingertips touched her bare skin, your gazes found each other in silent permission. Tzuyu was filled with the desire of having your hands all over her body.

Her eyes were screaming yes, begging you to go ahead and make her feel good.

Until several footsteps were heard outside of the practice room as loud voices approached the door.

You two separated immediately.

“Oh my God!” Jeongyeon screamed, “Could you two stop getting on the way while Tzuyu is about to get some?!” she exasperatedly asked Jihyo and Nayeon, who were trying to suppress their laughs.

“How were we supposed to know?!” Jihyo replied, almost offended.

“It’s okay unnies,” Tzuyu said, almost defeatedly, “the time will come, but I guess it will take time”.

“You two clearly want each other,” Nayeon said, feeling a little guilty she was also getting in the middle even if it wasn’t her intention, “you just haven’t had the chance to go for it”.

Tzuyu shrugged.

“We’ll get you the right time and place, Tzu,” Jihyo offered, getting a hopeful look from her maknae. “Just say the word and we’ll arrange everything for you two and we promise not to interrupt anymore”.

The other girls nodded in agreement, expecting Tzuyu’s answer.

Tzuyu smiled shyly. It wasn’t their fault, yet they were once again going over their own extents to make her happy.

She felt grateful.

“I'd love that,” she simply replied, smiling excitedly.

Part 2

#tzuyu x f!reader #tzuyu x reader #twice x reader #twice x f!reader #tzuyu fluff #tzuyu suggestive #twice fluff #twice suggestive #twice imagine #twice scenario #tzuyu imagine #tzuyu scenario #soulkeeper801

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hotchswifey · 10 months

Text

insomnia - dean winchester x reader

(this is the first thing i have written in about 2 years 😭😭😭😭

it kinda sucks but i like it

warnings: insomnia (i am aware that any sleep disorders cannot be cured by another person and i do not mean to take away from people who suffer from these conditions, this was just a cute little idea i had), a little angst?? (just about how much deans life sucks.), fluff, cuddling, overthinking, thinking badly about yourself (ur thoughts can be mean but ur lovely and brilliant <3333)

also i have a hc that dean goes really silent when he's tired, except he can't go silent around most people bc then they start to think something is really wrong™, but actually he is just too exhausted to try to talk (self-projection? maybe.)

word count: 2373)

---------------------------------------------------

You rubbed at your tired eyes, walking into the bunker’s kitchen, your eyes adjusting to the light that definitely shouldn’t have been on - considering it was 3.32am. Your eyes fell on Dean, who was hunched over the island counter eating cereal. ‘Should’ve figured it was him who couldn’t sleep, too’, you thought. As bad as your sleeping habits had gotten, you always marvelled at Dean’s capability to be a functioning human with so little sleep.

He had noticed you as soon as you stepped foot in the room, but he did nothing to acknowledge your presence. Figures. You reasoned that the poor guy’s probably slept twice in the last week. You didn’t address him either; whether it was sleep deprivation or knowing he wanted to be left alone, you didn’t know. You just went to grab yourself a bowl of cereal.

It was quiet (except for the sound of pouring milk and Dean’s chewing), but it was comfortable. It gave you some peace knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep - something so simple yet far out of your reach. You didn’t know when it happened (your inability to sleep), but ‘it comes with the life,’ you supposed. You grabbed your bowl and left Dean to ponder on his own.

---------------------------------------------------

You rubbed at your tired eyes again. The same routine - lay in bed for hours, eventually get up because you’re hungry, head to the kitchen and find the light on. Again and again, this happened - Dean always sat there. It had become a funny thing kind of (in an unhealthy, oh-my-god-i-just-want-to-sleep-but-i-guess-it’s-nice-to-see-dean type of way).

He didn’t acknowledge you, you didn’t acknowledge him, you poured your cereal to the sound of Dean chewing and went back to your room to eat. You wished he would invite you to sit down, even if you both ate silently. It was nice not to be alone at night, overthinking every gruesome and terrible thing to come. But you knew it was Dean, and he definitely needed some peace, quiet, and alone time (and this was the most alone time he willingly gave himself).

You ate back in your room, not sleeping for yet another night.

---------------------------------------------------

You and the boys had just got back from a vamp hunt. Sore, tired and, frankly, pissed off. The hunt was fine, you all supposed. But, god, it takes a lot to completely decapitate somebody. Your energy was all drained, and the only thing you wanted to do was sleep - but could you? No. Of course, you couldn’t. Why? A thunderstorm? Fireworks? Gunshots? No. Because your brain hates you. God forbid you get an ounce of sleep.

Your routine ensued again, more sluggish this time and certainly more pissed. All you wanted to do was behead a few vamps and sleep it off, but no. Of course not. Try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up and haul your ass to the kitchen, pour cereal, eat cereal. How did your life become so dull?

The lights are on again. You think, ‘There is no way in all hell Dean is awake. That boy put himself through more physical torment you could ever even dream of (not that you’d want to)’. You weren’t too shocked when, even after today, you saw Dean sitting there.

It wasn’t a surprise that Dean Winchester (saviour of the world, the perfect killer) was still awake, even after killing eight vamps single-handedly (but from how he was sitting, you were sure he’d hurt his back on the hunt). Dean. Again. In the kitchen. Not sleeping.

You didn’t know why, but it pissed you off more than it should have.

“Why are you still up?” You asked, walking past the island to the cereal cupboard. No response. Of course. You rolled your eyes, fishing out the box of lucky charms you reserved for awful days. You caught Dean’s eye as you turned around to get a bowl.

He might’ve been the strongest man you knew physically and mentally, but he looked so tired. More tired than you had ever seen him. More tired now than after ending the apocalypse or returning from purgatory. How could he look so exhausted after one vamp hunt? You thought about it for a second, only now realising how many times you had gotten up and he had been in the kitchen. Every time you got up, he was in the kitchen. What are the chances that when you can’t sleep, neither can he? Or was it more likely he wasn’t sleeping at all?

If you were being truthful, the strongest man you knew looked like hell. He looked like a little boy who couldn’t sleep because he had a nightmare and wanted his mom. Except he wasn’t a little boy, he was living through the nightmare and had no one to turn to when things got bad.

You had felt pity for Dean before (how could you not, the man has quite literally been to hell and back), but this was a different kind of pity. This was the kind of pity that only came when things were terrible. When you realise this was how it had to be, how it would be, forever. The kind of pity that came when you realised you couldn’t do anything about it. You felt useless looking at him in his dressing gown, hunched over the counter.

He was the world’s saviour, and you had to assume that came with consequences - like not sleeping.

You didn’t say anything. Your anger had dissipated into sadness - sadness for being unable to help your friend. There was nothing you could say or do. There was nothing at all. You stared at him, and he stared back, and that was it. You went about your night - pour the cereal, return to your room, and not sleep.

---------------------------------------------------

Another day. Another hunt. Another sleepless night.

You considered buying the strongest sleeping pills and calling it a day. But you knew you couldn’t. Dean would haul your ass out for another hunt tomorrow, and he’d be pissed if you were fast asleep.

‘He should take some sleeping pills’, you thought. Maybe he would actually be remotely okay then.

Not fall asleep, get up, walk to the kitchen, see Dean, not acknowledge each other, get your cereal and leave. Again and again. You may have liked it, though. Just that little bit of routine in your hectic lives. Even if it was a bad routine.

You poured your cereal, your back to Dean, in complete silence. It was nice. Comfortable.

You picked up your spoon, ready to head back to bed, and turned around to find Dean already looking at you. You paused on the spot, unsure as to why he was staring. He didn’t stop when you noticed him. He looked as tired as ever. The sight of him, looking exhausted, with a bowl of cereal and beer, was heartbreaking. It physically hurts to look at.

He looked at you, and you looked back. Silent. Again. You wish you knew what to say, but what could you say? ‘Hey, Dean. You look like shit.’ You were sure you looked just as bad.

The sudden eye contact didn’t end. You both are not blinking, not moving, simply just looking. It was like you were communicating telepathically, just understanding each other and the hell you were both going through. This life was bad enough with sleep.

He didn’t say anything when you moved to sit down next to him, he didn’t say anything when you began to eat your (soggy) cereal, and he didn’t say anything when you finished eating. He just drank his beer and ate his cereal wordlessly. He said nothing when you sat there for 5… 10… 15… 20 minutes. Not one word.

You wanted to know what was going on in his head so badly. You wanted to know how you could help if you could help. But Dean doesn’t share his problems. You knew that, Sam knew that Cas knew that- everybody in the damn world knew that.

You sat and sat and sat silently. Half an hour passed, then an hour, then two… before you knew it, Sam was walking in- tired and grumpy. The sun had risen (not that you could see it), and a new day had started.

“You look like shit, dude”, Dean said to Sam, who promptly rolled his eyes.

---------------------------------------------------

This time, when you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t go to the kitchen. You just laid there. Unmoving. You’re sleep-deprived mind was overthinking everything- what if you fucked up on that hunt 3 years ago, and Sam and Dean still hate you to this day? What if Sam hates you? What if Dean hates you? What if Dean is so fucking sick of you interrupting his nightly cereal time? You were a victim of your mind- your thoughts and inability to sleep.

Ugh. You were so hungry. But, right now, your brain was convincing you you were single-handedly Dean’s biggest annoyance right now (if Dean could read your thoughts right now, he would be calling you his biggest idiot).

A knock on your door startled you more than it should’ve (considering you had been hunting for quite a while at this point).

A knock. At (you looked over to your alarm clock) 3:34am. ‘Why is Sam awake at this time? Why’s he knocking on my door?’ you thought. ‘It can’t be Dean. I’ve done nothing but piss him off for the last month. You squint your eyes preemptively as you reach over to turn on the lamp by your bed and get up. The floor was cold under your feet, and your body was exhausted from the lack of sleep. You reached towards the doorknob, preparing to see Sam.

Sam. Who was definitely not at the door. Because Dean was standing there, in boxers and a white t-shirt, holding 2 bowls of cereal, looking as tired as you felt. Huh.

He looked at you silently, extending one bowl towards yourself. You took it hesitantly, staring at him, confused. He didn’t react. He didn’t say a word. Just lifted his bowl to eat his cereal. You moved to give Dean the option to come in. It was like a silent agreement had happened between you. Cereal and silence.

He walked in and sat on your bed; you closed your door and joined him. Wordless. Silent.

Maybe, you weren’t annoying him. Perhaps, he enjoyed this as much as you did. Maybe. Maybe.

Ten minutes passed, and you finished your cereal and leaned over to put it on the mahogany desk. ‘The Men of Letters enjoyed a frivolous life, huh. Who needs a mahogany desk?’ You thought, trying to distract yourself from your overactive mind. Dean moved over to do the same, leaning into you whilst he did.

He didn’t seem to lean away from you after that. He didn’t seem to move at all. He just sat close as you both stared at the wall, unblinking. God, you were tired. You just wanted to sleep. You felt like your body was going to shut down any day now.

“You should get some sleep,” Dean’s groggy voice came out of nowhere. It surprised you, him actually talking.

“Yeah, I’m trying,” you replied. Hell, you were trying. You were trying so hard, you just needed to-. Dean moved before you could finish your thought, standing up and moving to the top of the bed, pulling back the dishevelled sheets. He laid down in the bed, propping his head onto his hands.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

You moved to join him in the tiny twin bed. He pulled back the covers to let you in. You weren’t too sure what to do with yourself, then. You sat there with your knees to your chin, shoulders hunched. He had invited himself into your bed, and you felt like you were invading HIS space. Why were you still overthinking this? Why were you still thinking he didn’t want you here? Obviously, he did!

His arm wrapped around your shoulders before you could think anymore. You looked over at him, his green eyes reflective in the lamplight, and he looked back at you. Wordless. You gave him a small smile and moved to lie down. He joined you, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder. You debated whether you should lean against his chest but decided not to overthink it and just do it. You were sick of overthinking every little thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, yours wrapped around his. This was good. He was good. Nothing was exchanged between you; there wasn’t a need for words. You both knew this was what you two needed- each other. Dean had never really been alone (whether it was Sam, Cas, or Benny), and he needed somebody there to remind him that everything was okay. You were okay- sleep-deprived and needing a new career, but okay.

Your eyes were shutting before you could help it. Dean’s steady heartbeat in your ear and arms around your body calmed you. It was almost funny how quickly you were falling asleep now. Months and months of sleepless nights, and all it took was Dean to be here, holding you. You wished you could enjoy it more (not knowing if this would happen again), but you were so goddamn tired.

---------------------------------------------------

You awoke the following day to repeated knocks on your door and Sam’s voice shouting your name. Damnit Sam. He opened your door before you even had the chance to fully wake up.

“Have you seen Dea- oh.”

The man in question was fast asleep, his arms still wrapped around you, your legs tangled together. You looked towards Sam as he mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ and left hurriedly. You were surprised it didn’t wake Dean. A pin drop could wake him up. You looked over at him, admiring how peaceful he looked. It was simple. Simple and nice and sort of domestic. Or as domestic as a hunter’s life can be.

You leaned against his chest, his arms tightening around you, falling back asleep.

You two had a different routine from then on- if either couldn’t sleep, you would find each other.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader fluff

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fatuismooches · 11 months

Text

a lesson in sadness.

Today was another day of your peaceful, average but happy life with the puppet known as Kabukimono. Nothing seemed different about today. The blue sky appeared endless, stretching on forever with misty cotton clouds hovering above. Villagers and miners were already awake, slowly turning the sleepy village alive again. It seemed like it would be a good, normal day. And a good, normal day was deserving of a nice walk to take in the scenery.

Kabukimono, Niwa, Katsuragi, and you sometimes went on strolls outside the village, and today was one such day. Even though it was a group of you, you tended to stick to two pairs - Kabukimono and you, and Niwa and Katsuragi. The two older men had cheesily nudged you with their elbows, winking and motioning for you to join your lover. They’d let the two lovebirds have some alone time as they walked behind, they said, remarking about how precious young love was. You were going to kick them later for sure.

But you welcomed the time you got with Kabukimono. Lately, you had been encouraging him to be around the other villagers without you. You figured he needed more interaction with other people. You could only teach him so much. Some things in life could only be learned through experience. But it seemed like he preferred to hang out with the kiddos anyway.

“And they taught me lots of cool games! Hide and seek, temari, duck duck goose… tag, too!” The thought of Kabukimono trying to keep up with the hyperactive children was amusing.

“Tag? I can’t imagine how fast you had to run,” you giggled and Kabukimono brightened.

“Really fast, actually! I have a lot of stamina, see!” With that he took off in front of you, taking you by surprise for a second, but you excitedly raced after him. Now, you weren’t much of a runner, but something about doing this with him made you feel like the weight of all your worries had been lifted. The sounds of laughter filled the air.

“Hah- K-Kabukimono! Wait u-up!” Your sprint had come to a halting stop, hands on your knees as you caught your breath. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the Almighty Shogun’s puppet was so agile, but this was on another level. Then again, you thought a puppet would be emotionless, but Kabukimono was far from that.

Thankfully he stopped to rub your back comfortingly like the good boy he was. “Hehe, sorry [Name]. I guess I got a bit carried away there. But you should really join us! We always have a lot of fun!”

You smiled at him through your pants, standing up straight. “Well, when you put it like that, I simply can’t refuse. But I think you’ll have to do most of the running. I’ll just be… backup.” Both of you giggled and you caressed his cheek, while he looked into your eyes deeply. Slowly, you both began to lean in, ready to lock lips when-

Snap.

The sudden noise was enough to make you jump and pull away from Kabukimono, eyes searching your surroundings. Uneasiness settled in your stomach, and you then felt him tighten his hold on your sleeve. Turning your head back, you could see why.

A group of Kairagi and Nobushi appeared in front of you.

The uneasiness had crept up and turned to agitation. You two weren’t even that far from the village, yet somehow they were this close. Usually, they knew their place. Perhaps things had gotten bad for them lately.

“Well well well, what do we have here? Two lost little lambs?” They all had mean, wicked smiles on their face, some blades drawn already. You had a feeling that this good, normal day would turn out to be something far different.

The dishonored samurai had a tendency to attack anyone regardless, but you knew they were particularly interested this time. Kabukimono’s clothing was very expensive. And they liked to rob.

Kabukimono, on the other hand, hadn’t much experience with people outside of the tight-knit village, but he could easily tell that these men gave off a much different vibe than what he was accustomed to. And your face had an emotion that you rarely ever displayed. Fright. Nervousness. The same face he made when he was abandoned in Shakkei Pavilion.

“Kabukimono,” you whispered breathlessly, “We have to run. Now.” You didn’t like how your own fear was beginning to infect him, but there was no helping it.

Your hand slid down to firmly grasp the puppet’s. Niwa and Katsuragi shouldn’t be that far behind, but you should get some distance away from the bandits before you yell for help. They could hurt you if you tried anything like that. Carefully, you took a few steps back, tugging on Kabukimono’s hand.

“Come on, we need to-” You had begun to turn around to run when a large shadow suddenly loomed over you. You recognized the tattered clothing instantly as another Nobushi, and before you could even look up to gaze at your attacker’s face-

A warm liquid splattered on Kabukimono’s face.

He was rendered horrifically speechless as you staggered back, your hand gingerly touching your shoulder, which now had a large cut. Your grip on his hand began to weaken, eyes widening in surprise and then shutting just as quickly until you fell to the ground. Almost robotically, he stared at your crumpled form, blood soaking into your shirt now. When his eyes shifted to your pained face, Kabukimono snapped out of his terrified daze and dropped down to his knees to your body.

The Nobushi paid no mind to the scene, instead shaking the blade to clean your blood off of it. But Kabukimono was too caught up with your nearly still body lying in his trembling arms, unable to properly process what just happened.

Kabukimono had never seen so much blood in his life. He didn’t even know humans could bleed this much. What should he do? Puppets did not bleed the same way humans did. You never taught him about this. One hand was placed on your back, and the other was pressed to the cut on your bare shoulder, but quickly he realized how much of the fluid stained his pale hand, running down from his palm to his arm and dripping onto his white clothes.

He was sick to his stomach.

He wanted to move, to scream, to call for help, but the sight of the redness gushing from you onto his hand made bile rise in his throat. Your blood was on his hands, literally and figuratively. The puppet was paralyzed. Not even the clash of blades could draw him away, or the yelling that was close by but seemed distant. Even the shaking of his shoulders could not draw him away from your bloodied face, barely registering the extra pairs of hands that occupied your body.

“Kabukimono!” A seemingly distant voice ran in his ears. “Kabukimono!” Niwa had torn a piece of his shirt off and wrapped it around your wound.

“Kabukimono! [Name] NEEDS YOU!” Niwa screamed your name, the sheer emotion and urgency in his voice finally making him snap out of his traumatized trance. “Go! Now! Bring the town doctor!”

You need him, Kabukimono thought. That’s right. You need him. You needed to live. With that, he stumbled to his feet, and ran, ran, ran. Ran despite his blurry vision from tears, and the ache in his knees from tripping. For you.

—

It had been a few days since the incident, and you had not woken up yet. The puppet had remained by your side throughout. His eyes trained on you the whole time.

Kabukimono wondered what you dreamed of. He hoped it was sweet dreams. He hoped you weren’t suffering in the land of dreams at least. Meanwhile, he was being racked with his own tortuous thoughts, unable to even entertain the thought of sleeping when you were laid like this in front of him.

Useless. Weak. Powerless.

That was what Kabukimono thought of himself as. Sure, he was discarded by his creator for his lack of utility, but even still, he should have been able to do something. He could have punched, kicked, or anything. He was stronger than you, but he could not do anything to protect you. You’ve taught him so much, and he felt like he had not repaid even a fraction of it. Instead, the only thing he could think about was how it should have been him. Then he would have been of some use to you at least.

He turned his attention back to you. As always you managed to look so pretty, even when you were sleeping. If you opened your eyes, you’d look even more pretty, he thought. For a second he wondered if praying to Inazuma’s Archon would help. He had a… complicated relationship with her, but the other villagers always said-

Luckily it didn’t need to come to that, for somehow you answered his unspoken wish, eyes barely fluttering open and then squeezing shut again at the light. Something in his chest beat ferociously as he leaped up from his seat.

“[Name]? [Name]! Oh, you’re awake!” He cried out in joy and almost threw his arms around you, but stopped himself since you were injured. Tears began to well up in his eyes.

“Ngh… ugh, K-Kabukimono?” Your head pounded a bit and you squinted at the person in front of you. A hand was gently stroking your hair.

“Yes, it’s me, [Name]. It’s Kabukimono. I’m right here,” he did his best to keep his voice calm for you. After a few minutes, you had come to your senses, the ache on your shoulder a reminder of the events that you were starting to remember again.

“Oh… ah, Kabukimono. Hey love,” you whispered, trying to work up a small smile to ease his teary eyes. His hands moved to softly grip your one.

“[Name]... I was so worried. You were asleep for days, I was so, so scared. I didn’t know what to do…” He trailed off, voice threatening to break into hiccups. You were asleep for days? No wonder Kabukimono was looking a little worse for wear. He pressed your hand against his cheek, and you softly cupped it in return.

“Hey… don’t cry. I’m fine now, see?” He sniffed and looked at you with big, blearily eyes, nodding his head as he continued to relish your awakened presence. He updated you on what else happened, how your two friends defeated the bad men, and how everyone was so worried for you. How relieved he was when he found out you would be okay.

But it was obvious he was terribly bothered by the whole situation. The young puppet had experienced loss before, but it was in no way similar to the feeling he felt when you were bleeding out in his arms. It was immensely jarring, and he’d never felt so ill before.

“I just don’t understand,” he murmured softly. “Why would anyone want to hurt you? You’re so kind, beautiful, amazing…” The puppet trailed off with downcast, clouded eyes. You sucked in a breath, totally unsure of what to say.

You were not sure how to word this to the young, still learning puppet. How do you even go about explaining that there are some people out there who want to hurt you, in any way possible? Sometimes for a reason but also no reason at all? That some people were just rotten?

“Well,” you began, hoping the words would come to you, but nothing did. You continued on ineloquently, “Some people are just wicked. Evil. They don’t care about what happens to others.”

“But why?” He pressed on. Why, indeed. That was the question everyone asked themselves.

“I don’t know why. I wish I could tell you. But the only thing we can do is continue to spread goodness and happiness instead.” Kabukimono still seemed stumped and confused by your answer, but let the conversation drop, instead choosing to move it back to you.

“Do you need anything? Is the pain unbearable? The doctor should be here should. Actually, you’re probably really hungry, aren’t you? Should I-” Kabukimono worriedly rambled on until you pressed your fingers to his lip, effectively shutting him up.

“Of course it hurts,” you stated honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. I will be fine,” you reassured him. “Though something to eat would be nice.”

Your partner dutifully nodded, as if he was given a mission that decided the fate of the world. “I will get you something right now! And tell everyone else you’ve awoken!” Kabukimono left the room, and you were alone for a bit, but not for long, as the familiar brown-haired man popped in right after.

“Ah, Niwa…”

“Hey [Name],” he ruffled your hair affectionately. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged your shoulders, unsure of what even to say. “I’m fine, but…”

“Looks like something is hurting you more than that cut of yours,” he looked at you with pity.

“I just, I don’t know how to console or help him.”

“It might be difficult for one without a heart to understand. Though you have taught him matters related to love and life, the flip side is…” Your dear friend trailed off.

“Kabukimono does have a heart. It may not be physical, but he is far more kind than some of the actual heartless humans I’ve met in this world,” you whispered softly, fluttering your eyes shut. “But, how do I explain death and hatred and all the ugly things in this world without breaking his heart…? I want him to learn, but I fear it may hurt him too much.” Niwa didn’t reply but looked at you with understanding, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“You know, he hadn’t moved the whole time since you were sleeping. No matter how much we pleaded with him, he just refused to leave your side. Didn’t eat, sleep, or even move an inch from that position. So… no matter what happens, I think the two of you will be fine. I’ll leave you before Kabukimono comes back.” With that, Niwa left your room, leaving you to your thoughts.

You stared at the ceiling, feeling empty, not just from the ache in your injured shoulder, but the one coming from your heart. You wondered what would happen when you actually died. Passed on from this world leaving Kabukimono by himself. What would he do? Would he accept it? Move on after overcoming the grief?

“[Name]? Here, I got your favorite,” your lover’s voice rang throughout the room as he came in with a neatly set tray of soup. “The doctor says you need to eat light things to get your appetite back.”

You watched as he diligently dipped the spoon into the bowl and then brought it to your lips. You obediently swallowed the liquid. It was yummy. He continued the process without faltering, like this was the one thing he must do expertly.

Well, you could put thoughts like those away. It wasn’t necessary right now. You weren’t planning on dying anytime soon, not while he needed you so much.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

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