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#your usual Cry appreciating the best character
decodedchara · 3 months
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Figured i haven't posted the baby boy here. Still love this piece to bits, and shall spread the love here too. MIGHTYYY
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bby-deerling · 4 months
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one piece men: when you're jealous
ft. zoro, sanji, law
a bit suggestive, so nsfw warnings apply! will likely do a part two with more characters soon!
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zoro
the two of you keep to yourselves, tucked into the corner of a bar. his presence alone runs off any hopeful suitors looking to court you, but curiously, someone ends up buying him a drink. taking him swiftly downing the gifted alcohol as a sign to approach, a woman sits on the bar stool to the left of him; you expect him to simply ignore her, but the two of them get into an animated discussion about swordsmanship, and she starts to throw in subtle touches...
he's the type to be oblivious to the flirting of others; when he's drinking, he's friendlier than usual, and thinks of the interaction as nothing more than a simple conversation. he never considers anyone besides you in a romantic light, so the thought that he's being flirted with honestly never crosses his mind.
making a passive-aggressive comment under your breath comparing him to sanji makes the pieces click in his mind, and he realizes this woman's intentions aren't innocent, and those touches weren't just drunken accidents.
if you're the type to go quiet and sulk instead, he'll notice fairly quickly; seeing your expression makes him realize he's been ignoring you. he might not immediately put it together that you're jealous, but once he does, he's amused that you're being so mousy and cute about it.
in either case, after having his fun teasing you for being jealous, devilish smirk on his face, he takes you back to the sunny and reminds you of just how devoted he is to you, leaving your head spinning and wondering why you even got so worked up in the first place.
sanji
you feel invisible in the middle of the crowded market; despite the fact that you're traveling with your normally loving and doting boyfriend, he's spellbound by everything but you, throwing himself at any woman that moves. you're not sure whether the fact that he's repeatedly striking out is a comfort, or a further twist of the knife in your gut. all you know is that half of you wants to strangle him right now, and the other wants to cry.
you're going to have to drag him by the ear away from these women to get him to stop flirting and ogling. to be fair, you knew his behavior around other women was a fatal flaw of his, but he usually had the sense to at least tone it down.
if you're one to be more assertive, the two of you might just end up in an embarrassing argument in public; he argues that he was simply appreciating their beauty, and you argue that his excuse makes you feel even worse, which quickly shuts him up and leaves him groveling at your feet, prepared to serve any punishment you deem fit for him.
a silent, mopey approach works better to get through to him. seeing he's upset you and driven you nearly to tears shatters his heart and he switches up so fast, pulling you aside and feeding you all kinds of promises he will try his best to keep moving forward.
behind closed doors back on the sunny, he takes his time unraveling you, whispering hushed vows of devotion and love into your ear, determined to strike out the sins of his bad behavior. sanji may have a weak spot for pretty women, but he only loves you.
law
you're keeping your distance from law; the two of you are giving each other a mutual cold shoulder after a spat earlier in the day. usually, women who approach trafalgar law with hope and yearning in their hearts are ignored and turned away without a single word; law doesn't waste time on idle conversation that he views unworthy of his time... however, uncharacteristically, he's leaning in towards another woman at the bar, engaged in conversation, laying on the charm, and slowly leaning towards her to the point that shachi slings an apologetic arm around your shoulders and tries to console you.
watch out with this one... if you're currently in the middle of a fight, he will flirt back with someone else just to get on your nerves and try to goad you into apologizing first, even if your disagreement was his fault. he's also trying to procure messy, passionate make up sex from you. the flood of heightened emotions mixed with pleasure is addictive for him.
if he notices that he's only making you more upset with his behavior, and not in the way that makes you want to crawl into bed with him, he switches gears and sits next to you in silence, still too prideful to say even the simplest "i'm sorry" to you, even after he has unequivocally made things worse. however, after fifteen minutes of you refusing to even glance at him, he relents and has an adult conversation with you, about both his behavior and your fight earlier.
if you take the bait, approach him angrily and run off the woman at the bar with heated words, it takes a lot of self-restraint for law to hide the smug grin fighting to grace his features. a smooth talker when he wants to be, he knows exactly which buttons to push to get you cooled down enough to head back to the polar tang with him.
in both cases, law usually gets what he wants: the two of you working your frustrations out on each other underneath layers of sheets, the stupid fight from before long forgotten.
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hellodarling1357 · 3 months
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Hello! Heard your requests are open so could I please request a cassian x f!reader fic where the reader is a babysitter for cassian's baby girl (maybe less than a year old). cassian is a single father so as time goes on and cassian sees reader bonding so well with his baby, he starts liking her more and more. eventually asks her out and they end up getting together and all❤️
Tiny Toes
Thank you so much for the request! I had the best time writing this, it honestly could’ve gone on forever
A/N: sorry for the slight Nesta slander, I really do love her as a character but needed to have her do this :(
Enjoy 🥰
Word Count: 6.6k
You didn’t think you would be babysitting at this stage in your life but with your boss firing you because you refused to sleep with him, and then refusing to put in a good word for you when potential employers contacted him for a reference, it seemed like the next best, and your only, option. If anything, it was a means to an end in terms of supporting yourself whilst you got back on your feet and sorted something else out; the fact that you absolutely adored babies and children was just a bonus perk of the job.
When your close friend Elain told you that she knew someone who would really appreciate your help, you jumped at the opportunity. However, what you weren’t expecting was to come face to face with the General of the Night Court’s armies, crying baby in his arms and a distressed expression of his face.
“Y/N?”
“Yes, hi…” You trailed off, unsure how to address the male in front of you. General? Lord? But he didn’t seem to notice your hesitancy as he gestured you inside.
“Hey, I’m Cassian. Seriously, thank you so much for agreeing to this. I know it’s last minute, but somethings come up and I just… Well, I really need the help, so thank you.”
You smiled at him, taking the time to look around the open layout of the house as he tried to settle his crying daughter. You couldn’t help but cringe a bit at the state of the place. There were baby clothes and toys everywhere, plates and dirty laundry piled up, not to mention the daggers and knives that seemed to be scattered throughout the place.
“This,” Cassian said as he walked back into the lounge room, the babe now happily looking around, “is Otilia, or Ottie. Ottie, this is Y/N, she’s going to be looking after you while Daddy is away. You’re going to be a good girl for Y/N?” Ottie just smiled up at him as though he were her favourite person in the world, making happy little noises as she kicked her feet and grasped at the front of his top.
The sight had your heart melting. If you didn’t already know who Cassian was, there was no way in a million years you would’ve guessed that the male in front of you was the infamous General, the Lord of Bloodshed.
With Ottie still is his arms, Cassian moved around the room, gathering items, and trying to clean up what he could before leaving.
“I’ve left a note in the kitchen, just with all the general things like nap times, where the baby food is, where the nappies are, what her favourite toy is. But she’s a pretty happy baby so hopefully she won’t be any trouble.”
“I’m sure she’ll be perfect, won’t you, sweetheart?” You cooed at the little girl as she watched you with wide eyes. “Here, do you want me to take her so she can get comfortable with me while you’re still here?” You offered, as she wrapped her small hand around your finger.
“If you don’t mind. Don’t be offended if she starts crying, she usually takes a few minutes to warm up to new people,” Cassian passed her over, helping her settle in your arms, a protective hand cupping her cheek as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, look at that, you’re clearly some sort of baby whisperer.”
Smiling down at her, you gently tickled her with your pointer finger, grinning as her feet started kicking, her sweet melodic laugh filling the room. Cassian hurriedly pulled the rest of his gear together, sending lingering looks over to the pair of you as he did so.
“Everything alright?” You asked as you sat on the green velvet couch, Ottie still in your arms. You knew how hard it could be for the parents, having a complete stranger looking after their children, so you tried to give Cassian the chance to ask any questions or dispel any concerns before he left.
“Yeah, yeah sorry of course. All fine.” He seemed to hesitate before leaning against the table as he watched Ottie, a loving smile gracing his features. “Sorry,” a sheepish expression replaced that smile as he met your eye, “it’s the first time I’m leaving her, and I can’t seem to make myself walk out the door.”
You softly laughed, trying to ease his tension as you said, “That’s completely normal. If it helps, is there a way I can get in touch with you while you’re out? That way you’ll know straight away if something happens?”
He gave you a grateful smile but shook his head, “No it’s nothing like that. After everything I’ve heard Elain say about you, I trust you with her completely. It’s more so that I just don’t want to be away from her, don’t want to miss anything, you know? Even if it’s just the same smile I’ve already seen a hundred times,” He chuckled as he got up to press a kiss to the top of her head, then her cheeks, then her tiny, clenched hands. “Trust me, I know how pathetic this sounds, I don’t even know why I’m telling you, but I just really love hanging out with her. It’s just been the two of us against the world, especially after everything that happened with…” He suddenly stopped, as if catching what he was about to say.
“Anyway, I should be off. I’m already half an hour late and have had Rhys mind yelling at me for the last 15 minutes. Thank you so much, Y/N. I should only be gone a few hours.” With a final kiss to Ottie’s cheeks, Cassian walked out the door.
"Well now, what are we going to do today, sweetheart?" You asked the small baby in your arms. She just fixed you with another smile and burst into giggles.
*****
You had spent the better part of an hour playing with Ottie, hoping to tire her out so that she would easily go down for her nap. You plan miraculously worked, after wrapping her up in a blanket and running a soothing hand over her stomach, she fell fast asleep without even the smallest fuss. Cassian was right, she was a happy baby.
You quietly closed the door behind you and headed down to the kitchen. With nothing else to do, you figured you would help by cleaning the place up. With the dishes washed and drying, the benches wiped, and rubbish taken out, you started on the piles of laundry, however, a small painting tucked behind a chair in the corner of the lounge room piked your interest.
You picked Cassian out of the painting immediately, the telltale red Siphons and overall uncanny accuracy making it an easy conclusion. You tensed upon looking at the female painted beside him. The similarities between her and your High Lady were all too familiar, this was clearly her sister, Nesta.
Quickly putting the painting back where it had been hidden you felt guilt course through you; you hadn't meant to snoop. You knew what had happened between Cassian and Nesta. Everyone knew what had happened. They had been mated for just five years before falling pregnant then two weeks after the baby, after Ottie, had been born Nesta had simply left. It was all the people of Velaris could talk about, wild rumours and stories spreading about what had happened. Eventually, the truth came out; she had left Cassian, left her baby, for Eris.
Elain had explained to you the pressure her sister had felt and had realised she was only with Cassian because everyone had said that was what the mating bond required. But she wasn't actually happy with him, and Cassian hadn't been happy with her either. Then there had been a visit to the Autumn Court, and something had sparked between Nesta and Eris. She had felt torn and confused but a baby was never something she wanted, and Eris was offering her a life where she could be her own person, not someone shadowed by her High Lady sister, according to Nesta.
Given all of this, you were surprised by how put together Cassian seemed. You couldn't imagine the conflicting emotions he would've felt with his mate leaving just days after they had had a baby. But he seemed to have picked up the pieces and, no doubt, had the support of his family during that time, but you supposed there did reach a point where his duties to the court had to be met again, and you were more than happy to step in and help where you could.
*****
Several hours later, you had just finished giving Ottie her lunch when a piece of paper appeared on the table in front of you:
Y/N, Cassian has asked that I let you know he is going to be later than anticipated and that he is very sorry for the inconvenience. However, if this doesn't work, let me know and I'll have someone over to watch Ottie as soon as possible - Rhys
You blinked.
Rhys? As in Rhysand, your High Lord? Just casually sending you a magically note? You blanched at the thought of him even knowing you existed, which, you supposed made sense, seeing that you were friends with his wife's sister.
You didn't mind staying longer to look after Ottie, but you had no way of conveying that to Rhysand or Cassian. As if your thoughts had been sent out into the abyss, a pen appeared atop the paper as if in answer to your question.
Hesitantly, you picked it up, unsure how to even start a note of this manner that would be read by your High Lord.
It's not a problem, High Lord. Please tell Cassian that I can stay as long as required - Y/N
You didn't have a chance to read over the message before it was whisked away by magic. But, shit. Cassian had introduced himself to you as Cassian, but should you have referred to him as General in your note? Had you been too informal or improper. Before you could mull over it any further, the piece of paper was back in front of you:
Lovely.
By the way, just Rhys is fine - Rhys
Well, that settled that matter.
*****
You had given Ottie her dinner and put her down for bed with little fuss. There had been a few tears once she sensed that Cassian wasn't there, but you had managed to coax her back to her happy little self by quietly singing and rubbing soothing circles across her dark mass of hair until she fell asleep.
Now you sat curled up on the couch with the makeshift dinner you had prepared and a book that had been on the bulking bookshelf that sat in the corner of the room. You were sure that Cassian wouldn't have minded your rummaging through the pantry but had made enough for him to eat once he came home just in case.
An hour or so later, you had been so engrossed in your book that you didn't hear the front door open or the heavy footsteps that padded down the hall.
"Hi," You looked up with a slight jump, having been startled by Cassian's sudden presence. He was leaning against the doorway and looked absolutely exhausted. "Y/N, I am so sorry. I was up at some of the Illyrian camps and, well, things were worse than I anticipated... I won't bore you with all that, but I am so sorry for keeping you here."
You brushed him off, noticing the tension somewhat leave his body upon realising you weren't bothered by it.
"It's fine, I promise. The High Lord... Rhys," Cassian grinned at your correction, clearly privy to the notes that had passed between the two of you, "said you were going to be late. If it wasn't going to work, I would have let him know."
Cassian offered you another grateful smile as he slumped into the armchair opposite the couch. "How was she? Not too difficult?"
"She was perfect. A few tears at bedtime but we managed to sort that out. I think she was just missing you." You could have sworn his eyes twinkled at your last comment.
"Before I head off, I cooked some dinner and left a bit to the side for you in case you were hungry when you got back. I hope you don't mind?"
"Mind? Y/N, you are honestly cauldron sent. You also cleaned? All whilst looking after Ottie. Thank you."
You felt your cheeks heat up and preyed he wouldn't notice your slight blush.
"It was nothing, seriously. I had nothing else to do while Ottie was sleeping so thought I would help out. Why don't you go up and see her? I'll get dinner heated for you."
Cassian sent another grateful smile your way before leaving the room, you laughed to yourself as you heard his steps pick up in pace as he bounded up the stairs towards his daughter's room.
*****
He came back 10 minutes later just as you were putting on your coat and collecting your belongings.
"I've left your dinner on the stove to stay warm." You said over your shoulder. He really did look exhausted.
"Thank you, you have no idea how much of a life saver you were today." You brushed off the compliment as he led you towards the front door. "Oh, before you go, we never spoke about payment? How much do I owe you?"
Honestly, you hadn't even thought about payment, it had completely slipped your mind.
"Right. Don't worry about that now–"
"Y/N, I'm not going to not pay you for today."
"No, I know. But you look like you're seconds away from passing out, no offence. So go back inside, finish your dinner then go to bed. We can sort the money part out later."
"Okay, only if you're sure? Thank you again, so much. Get home safe, alright?"
"I will. Night, Cassian."
You had barely made it to the front gate before the door was opening again.
"Y/N? Before you go, would you mind looking after Ottie again in a few days? Rhys is needing me to get back into my work, so I'll need to have someone watching her while I'm away. You're so good with her, so if you wouldn't mind..." He trailed off.
"Of course, she's an absolute angel. I would love to look after her again. Let me know when you need me."
"Okay, Goodnight. Thanks again."
*****
Over a year had passed since you first met Cassian and Ottie. After the first few weeks, Cassian had sat you down and asked if you would be happy looking after her on a more permanent basis, so you had decided on four days a week while Cassian was busy helping out Rhys and the Inner Circle. Sometimes you would stay until later into the evenings if Cassian came home with piles of paperwork, helping with Ottie's bedtime and cleaning up the house, despite Cassian's protests that it was his mess to deal with.
"Y/N?"
You had just finished feeding Ottie her dinner when Cassian appeared in the doorway. You looked up at him, waiting for him to continue as you wiped the food away from her chubby cheeks.
"Ottie is turning two on Saturday, and I was just wondering, if you weren't doing anything, if you wanted to come to her birthday party? It won't be a big thing, but she adores you and it would be nice to have you there," You smiled at him, delighted that he even considered you important enough to be there to celebrate, but before you could reply, Cassian hurriedly continued, "Of course, there's no pressure. You probably want a break from us, it is your day off after all…"
"Cass, I would love to be there." His face lit up as your response.
"Good. Okay. Great," He remained in the doorway, still softly smiling as he watched you pick up Ottie from her highchair, "Well I better... Still got some work to finish off, so..." He gestured back towards his office and then made his way out of the room.
You were caught off guard by the momentary awkwardness that seemed to radiate from him, not used to seeing him in any other way but the confident and playful General who was absolutely smitten with his little girl.
*****
Standing outside Cassian's house, you lingered on the doorstep as you hyped yourself up to knock on the door. It had only just dawned on you as you walked over that the guests at Ottie's birthday party, weren't going to be any old day-to-day fae. No, you were about to spend the afternoon with your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. Not a daunting prospect in the slightest.
As luck would have it, you weren't given a chance to psych yourself out before the door opened, revealing a grinning Cassian and Ottie who merrily clapped and said your name when she saw you, arms reaching out for you to hold her.
"Hello, Birthday Girl. Don't you look beautiful." She giggled as you cooed at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Hi, thanks for inviting me." You looked at Cassian now who was fondly watching the scene in front of him playout.
"Thanks for coming," Cassian opened the door wider for you to come inside, taking the pink gift bag you had brought with you that contained Ottie's birthday present. "Fair warning, everyone here has a bone to pick with you."
You froze, body tensing at his words.
"What?" You would have cringed at the stutter in your voice had you not been so worried. But Cassian just laughed and led you further into the house, a hand on the small of your back.
"Well, apparently since you've come along, Ottie doesn't have the time of day for anyone else. She was fussing all morning until she saw you walking up the road through the kitchen window. You seemed to have gotten lost somewhere between the gate to the door with how long you stood out there, so we thought we would see what you were doing, didn't we Ottie?" Cassian gave you a knowing smirk, clearly aware of your nerves towards who you would be spending the day with.
"Come on, I'm just joking. They're all dying to meet you."
Right on queue, a female, who you knew without needing to be told was Morrigan, jumped up from her seat as you walked into the room.
"Y/N," She squealed as she bounded over and pulled you into a tight hug, Cassian quickly grabbing Ottie out of your arms. "It's about time we all finally get to meet you. First Elain kept you all to herself, and now Cassian? If you had said no to coming today, I would have gone over to your house myself and forced you to be here."
"Mor..." Cassian's tone was laced in warning, but you immediately felt at ease in her presence.
"Come on, let's introduce you to the others."
*****
To your absolute delight, the rest of Cassian's family welcomed you into their group with open arms. Elain had jumped up and refused to leave your side once she noticed you had arrived. Having been away with Lucien for some time, it had been a while since the two of you had been able to catch up.
After the presents had been opened - Ottie had adored the fluffy bear you had gotten her - everyone was lounging outside, watching as little Nyx sat with his younger cousin in his lap, showing her all of the presents she had received and telling her the best way to play with them in order to have the most fun. Clearly the ever-destined High Lord in the making, you had grinned, already seeing the type of male he would become as Feyre and Rhys watched on sharing content smiles.
It was only then that you realised that Cassian was missing from the group. You excused yourself and headed back inside, searching the house until finally finding him in Ottie's bedroom.
"Hi," You voice was quiet as you made your presence known, unsure if he had just forgotten something up here or if he needed a moment to himself.
"Hey," He turned to face you, looking as though he had just been pulled out of some sort of trance. However, his lopsided smile was quick to return as he said, "sorry for leaving you out there with that lot."
Letting out a laugh you walked into the room, "They're really not that bad. Imagine what the other courts would think if they ever saw the High Lord of the Night Court dressed up in a pink tutu with a fluffy matching crown on his head."
Cassian laughed at that, smile widening as the voices and shrill giggles from outside echoed through the bedroom window, but that reserved expression was quick to reappear.
"You alright?" You quietly asked, already having a sense of what was eating him up.
"Yeah, fine." A glance at your unconvinced expression had Cassian letting out a low sigh before continuing. "I thought she would've at least shown up today. I know she wants no part in this, but it's still her daughter’s birthday. For Ottie's sake, I thought she would've shown. She needs her mum."
You let out a sigh of your own now, crossing the space between you and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
Pulling away you said, "Cass, I get it. Believe me I do. But Ottie is doing just fine. You're absolutely amazing with her and it's so special watching the two of you together. And in terms of her needing her mum, look at all the amazing females Ottie has in her life: Mor, Feyre, Elain, Amren. There's no short supply of love for her, if anything, Nesta is the one missing out on this."
The words had rushed out of you without being able to truly process what you had said. You and Cassian had never directly spoken about Nesta, it had always been an unspoken awareness that you knew what had happened and that was enough. Looking at the ground, you could feel yourself tensing with worry at the thought of having overstepped.
"And she has you."
"What?"
"And Ottie has you. You were listing off the amazing females she has in her life but missed the one who she spends the most time with. The one who she loves the most."
There was no stopping the blush that crept over your face as you stared back at Cassian.
"Cass-"
But the sounds of hurried little footsteps running up the stairs interrupted whatever you had been about to say.
"Uncle Cass, Uncle Cass," Nyx burst into the room, dramatically taking in deep breathes as he waved up at you.
"What is it, bud?" Cassian shot you a bemused glance, still somewhat laced with the intensity from before, then knelt in front of Nyx who lifted his arms and placed his little hands on Cassian's shoulders.
"It's cake time. Come on." Then he was running out of the room again.
"You'd think it was the end of the world with the entrance he just made." You let out a laugh but before you could respond, Nyx was bursting back in.
"Come on." He yelled, grabbing you and Cassian by the hand, and forcing you down the stairs to where Elain had just finished lighting the candles on top of the cake.
*****
The rest of the afternoon raced by, so fast, in fact, that you didn't have time to process the moment you and Cassian had shared until you were home. The intensity in his expression as he stared at you and the implication of his words... Your heart was racing at the mere thought.
Letting out a groan you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to settle your racing thoughts at the realisation that you had, somehow, without even being aware of it starting, had begun to fall for Cassian. To make matters even worse, you had no idea where you truly stood with him. Despite the closeness and friendship that had formed, he was technically still your boss.
You had a whole day before you were due back to look after Ottie. A whole 24 hours to figure out how you wanted to move forward in the wake of this realisation.
*****
Monday morning arrived much too quickly for your liking. It wasn't until the door opened and Cassian greeted you on the other side of it that you decided you weren't going to do anything about your feelings. He had been emotional the other day, grieving what he thought was missing from his daughter's life and, honestly, you thought to yourself, he probably hadn't even intended it to come out the way you had perceived it. He wasn't wrong, you did spend a lot of time with her. But you were paid to do so, so did it really count?
"Morning, Y/N? Have a good rest of you weekend?" Oh, sure it had been fantastic. Just a nice dose of inner turmoil. But of course, you didn't say any of that.
"I did," You smiled at him, acting as though your insides weren't currently screaming out. "Did Ottie have a good birthday? It was so nice meeting everyone."
As Cassian got ready to leave, your usual chatter filled the space as you made yourself a coffee, but you couldn't help but notice that his usual, carefree smile didn't quite meet his eyes, and that he seemed to be watching you as though waiting or assessing something.
"Alright, well I might be home a bit later tonight, if that's alright?" You brushed him off, of course it was alright, it always was. You sat down next to Ottie as she continued to happily munch away on her breakfast. "Okay, bye Ottie, you'll be good for Y/N today?" He pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning back to you, "See you later, yeah?"
"Mhm," You replied, "have a good day."
"You too." Then he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek as well before standing up and leaving as though nothing had happened.
What. The. Fuck.
You stared at the empty door frame he had walked through, only half hearing the front door close as he took off.
Again.
What. The. Fuck.
You turned to look at Ottie, as though she would provide you with some sort of explanation as to what just happened, or to confirm that it had even happened in the first place, that it wasn't just something you had imagined.
But she provided you with no deeper insight as she sat in her seat, happily kicking her little feet and giggling to herself. Upon noticing you watching her, she gave you one of her big cheesy grins you had grown to love and offered you a piece of the fruit Cassian had cut up for her.
*****
What. The. Fuck.
Cassian's heart was racing as he flew up to the House of Wind. What had he done?
Clearly you were more than happy to ignore his complete lack of control from the other day, when he all but said you were basically like a mum to Ottie. He was surprised he hadn't scared you off, especially when all you had signed up for was to be her babysitter, which was a harsh truth in itself that Cassian found himself constantly having to remember whenever he watched you and his daughter interact and he felt his heart stammer in his chest.
And then to turn around and kiss you on the cheek before leaving for work - as you turned up for work, he had to remind himself, again - as though it was a normal morning, between a normal little family...
He felt sick.
He had really screwed up.
"What's wrong with you today?" Azriel asked as Cassian landed with an ungrateful grunt next to the training ring located on the roof.
"Nothing."
"You sure?" Rhys now asked, sensing Cassian's inner turmoil even through the steadfast mental shield he had up around his mind.
With a grumble, Cassian lowered said shield, giving Rhys a look at what had occurred that morning. Scowling even deeper when Rhys let out a bark of a laugh. The snicker that followed from Azriel as Rhys showed him what had happened sent Cassian marching into the training ring, readying himself to forget his stupidity as Azriel approached to spar with him.
*****
He hadn't even got half an hour into his training before pulling up short, his mind was too distracted.
"Should I have stayed?" He blurtedly asked.
"What?" Unbeknownst to Cassian, Rhys and Az had been having a silent conversation whilst he had been spaced out.
"This morning. With Y/N. Should I have stayed and, I don't know, talked about it?"
He missed the glance his brother's shared.
"Well," Rhys started. "What would you have talked about?"
"I don't know, what is there to talk about?" Cassian snapped back, frustration and worry getting the better of him the more he thought about what he might now lose.
"Would you have tried to pass it off as a joke, or explain it away?" Rhys cautiously asked, trying to judge which direction Cassian's mind was heading in.
"Or would you have stayed and finally admitted your feelings to her?” Azriel interjected.
"My feelings?"
"Yes, you idiot. And the fact that you're in love with her."
"I'm not in love with..." Cassian trailed off though. He was, he absolutely was, and there was no point in denying it.
Azriel scoffed, "Please, you're in love with her. We've never seen you like this before with anyone."
"Well, Nesta-" Cassian tried to counter but Rhys cut him off.
"Nesta wasn't love. That was the mating bond, you've said as much to us multiple times so don't try to deflect now."
Cassian let out a deep sigh, he wasn't expected home for a few hours and a plan was starting to form in his mind.
*****
You had been surprised, but pleased all the same, when Feyre turned up with Nyx.
"Y/N! Hi, how are you?" You still weren't quite used to the casualness that surrounded the rulers of your court but did your best to act as though being in their presence wasn't one of the most intimidating things you had ever experienced.
"I'm good. What are you doing here?"
"Well, it's such a lovely day, Nyx and I thought it would be nice to get you and Ottie over to ours for the afternoon."
"Oh, thank you. Are you sure though?"
"Of course, we can walk back now. Go along the Sidra if you'd like?
"Easy, let me just grab Ottie's things."
Feyre shut the door behind you, Nyx already running over to where Ottie sat with her toys and planting a big kiss to her cheek.
"There's no need to grab much. Cass bought double ups of basically everything and has them stored at ours for when we look after her. Just yourselves will do."
You smiled warmly at her before scooping Ottie up, "Do you want to go play at Auntie Feyre's with Nyx?
Her excited squeals were enough of an answer, still, she excitedly said "yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," as you headed out the door, watching as her and Nyx ran ahead of the two of you.
*****
The afternoon spent with Feyre was the perfect distraction from your racing thoughts after what had happened with Cassian that morning.
The two of you chatted outside until the sun started to set, watching Ottie and Nyx run around across the grass.
"Well, hello, Feyre, Y/N." Rhys greeted as he walked out to join you, still dressed in his leathers, clearly having just got home.
You said hi back, watching with a laugh as Ottie caught sight of who now stood with you.
"Uncle Rhysie." She yelled, her little feet pounding across the grass as she leapt into his arms.
"Hello, princess. How's my favourite girl?" Ottie giggled at the nickname and hugged into him even tighter, "What do you say to a sleepover tonight, Ots?"
Turning to you, Ottie still in his arms, Rhys said, "Cass is fine with it. I think he needed you to head back at some point before going home tonight though."
"Oh, alright. Well, I might head off now then. Bye Ottie." She looked around at you, eyes wide as she wriggled out of Rhys' hold and ran over to you.
"You're not staying?" Her lip started to quiver so you quickly wrapped her up into a hug before the tears started.
"Not tonight, sweetheart. But we can play all day tomorrow, yeah?" She seemed to contemplate this for a moment before deciding it was acceptable enough and planted a kiss on your cheek before running back over to Nyx.
Feyre and Rhys were both smiling at you, clearly watching, and overhearing the entire interaction.
"What?" You asked with a laugh.
"Nothing, you're just really good with her."
"Oh, well..." You trailed off, not sure what to say as Rhys' words from before struck. Cassian needed to talk to you about something and, well, shit, clearly you were about to get fired, or, more kindly, were about to be told your ‘services were no longer required’.
"I'll see you both later. Goodnight." You missed the conspiratorial grin they shared behind your back, Rhys letting his thoughts drift over to Cassian's mind to tell him you were on your way.
*****
The house was dark when you got back, the only form of light was coming from the study and, from the looks of it, the backyard.
"Cass?" You called out as you closed the door behind you.
Hurried movements sounded from his office, then Cassian was quickly walking towards you.
"Y/N. Hi."
"Hi."
You felt as though your entire body was on guard. You needed to explain that you could easily put your feelings aside, but losing the chance of being in Ottie and Cassian's lives was something that filled you with dread, you would be happy to stay on in whatever capacity you could.
"Do you... Do you want to talk?" Cassian's nervousness was unsettling, yet you followed as he led you towards the couch.
"What are you doing tonight?"
That wasn't the question you were expecting.
You hesitated before answering, "Just going home I guess."
He seemed to contemplate your answer, looking so much like Ottie did earlier when you were saying goodbye.
"Dinner?" His voice was strained, leaving you even more confused.
"Um, yeah I'll be having dinner."
"No... Ugh this isn't working." He leant his head against the back of the couch, running his hands over his face.
"Cassian, are you alright?"
"Yes. No. I don't know." You were stunned, maintaining your silence as Cassian continued. "This morning, Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't know what that was, it just happened without me thinking about what I was doing. And then everything I said at Ottie's birthday. And now, fucks sake..." He trailed off again, leaving you just as confused as he blurted out "I need to have dinner."
"Oh, sure," You felt as though you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if his bizarre behaviour was some sort of test. "Did you want me to heat something up? I think there's still some frozen pasta from the other night." You went to stand but Cassian placed a hand on your knee to stop you before quickly pulling it away.
"No, it's alright. I've got it sorted." Then he was standing, offering you his hand as he guided you towards the back door.
You froze at the sight before you. Candles flickered across the table and the deck, a table set for two, lined with trays of food and a bottle of wine which sat in the middle of it all.
"Cass?"
"Look, Y/N, I get it if this is completely out of line. If it is then I am so sorry. But I needed you to know that this, whatever this is between us, means something to me."
You couldn't move, you were stuck on the spot as Cassian continued, the flickering lights casting a shadow across his handsome features.
"It's not even because you're so good with Ottie. I mean, you are, you're amazing with her and she adores you, so, so much. But it's how you treat me. Even that first time you looked after her, I was so close to crumbling. I felt so torn, between staying home and looking after my baby girl, but also knowing I needed to step back into reality and my responsibilities. It wasn't fair on the others that they had to pick up my slack."
You tried to interject, to say something about how the others wouldn't have minded, not one bit, especially with everything Cassian had been going through at the time, but he was already moving on.
"Not going to lie, I was reluctant when Elain first told me about you. It was nothing to do with you," He quickly clarified, "But more so because you were a complete stranger to me, and as much as Elain vouched for you, I still felt wary."
"Then you walked in and that first time you held her; I swear my heart skipped a beat. Even with Elain and Feyre, it took them ages to be able to hold her without Ottie bursting into tears. But with you, it all just seemed to fall into place." His voice was beginning to shake, and you silently wiped the tears from your eyes as he kept talking.
"But if anything, Y/N, it's the way you make me feel. Before even knowing me, you had me convinced that I wasn't completely failing at being her dad, that even though everything was well and truly fucked up, she was doing just fine. You helped me realise that I was going to be fine as well."
Cassian approached you now, calloused hands reaching up to your cheeks as he wiped away the rest of your tears with his thumbs. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say, and what I'm not doing a very good job of getting across, is that I love you?"
A watery laugh left you at the overall Cassian-ness of the statement, the sound making him grin lovingly at you.
"I love you, Y/N. And I am so thankful for the day that you walked into our lives and changed them for the better. And, assuming I haven't completely misread the situation, and assuming that those are happy tears," He laughed, his own eyes beginning to well. "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?"
With his hands still on your cheeks, you brought your arms up around his neck and pulled him down so that his face was level with yours.
"I thought you were going to fire me." You whispered.
A cheeky smile passed over Cassian's face, "Well, technically, I suppose I am? I can't have my...whatever you are to me now, being paid to look after my kid now, can I?"
"How romantic. Being fired then called your 'whatever'."
"We'll figure that out later." Cassian murmured against your lips.
"Yes, I suppose we will." Then you were leaning forward, lips pressing to his, feeling as though you were finally home.
*****
Part 2
There are so many opportunities for bonus spin-offs that I’m excited to write but if you want to see any particular scenario, let me know 🥰
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meaningofaeons · 11 months
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ emotionally unavailable p.2
⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 5.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader (gepard, sampo), fem!reader (jing yuan, reader is referred to as 'lady'), emotionally constipated/stoic reader (but you're warming up a bit ;), confessions, fluff, love, mushy stuff! ⊹ part 1 here!
sorry this took so long !! (=´ᆺ`=) really thought I'd have it out sooner, but I wanted to make sure it was planned and edited this time. hope you all like! and please do point out any mistakes, I know sometimes I mix up the gn pronouns with she/her so lemme know if there's any of that (ฅ^・ﻌ・^)ฅ
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⊹ Gepard Landau
Ever since you and Gepard spoke that day, Serval had been seeing more of you around the workshop.
Rather than lounging as per your nick-namesake, however, you were frequently speaking with Gepard when he was around.
That, or you were at her desk asking when he'd be around.
It was a far cry from your former indifference for sure.
Sure, you weren't overly enthused or anything at the prospect of seeing him, but...
Serval could definitely see the gleam in your eye when you questioned about her brother.
You weren't alone in your affection, either.
The eldest Landau hadn't failed to notice the consistently at which Gepard asked about you, too.
Even though there were reports of Fragmentum corrosion being on the rise and more monsters to keep at bay, things that usually stressed the Captain out, he was in shockingly high spirits
It seems your presence was beneficial to his stress and mood.
Over time, you mellowed out a bit from your usual stoicism as well
You were more inclined to joke and be more open with Serval and Gepard both, though you still retained a bit of your standoffish nature.
This didn't mean you magically became an extrovert—Aeons knows you still treated other people just as coldly.
But to the Landaus at least, things were turning up.
You weren't running into their arms with warm salutations ready for an embrace, but at the very least, you spoke more.
Not to mention, you'd taken on a new hobby—teasing poor Gepard.
It wasn't really your fault, in your defense. He was just too easy, and his blushing cheeks were admittedly cute amusing to see.
Gepard, in spite of your embarrassing new pastime, would often count the hours, minutes, down to the seconds until he could head to the workshop and see if you were around
On the days you weren't (increasingly rare nowadays), it was quite obvious how he'd deflate. But he'd still wait around a little while longer for you
And when you were there? He'd light up immediately.
It's as if you could see the tail wagging behind him—he's like a giant golden retriever.
Eventually, it got to the point where he figured it was about time he confessed how he actually felt about you.
Serval, of course, encouraged and offered to wing-woman for him as she had done before, but he adamantly refused
As much as Gepard appreciated his sister, he wanted to do this himself.
He would find himself practicing singing, drawing, anything artistic he could do to show his affections for you.
It was an earnest, honest-to-good effort, but let's be honest—he's not the best at most artistic pursuits.
Eventually, he settled for a poem (the farthest he could get artistically without completely flubbing it) and a bouquet of the flowers that brought you two together in the first place—Ball Peonies.
He put it off for a few days out of nervousness.
Okay, no, a few weeks. Let's not kid ourselves, he had to buy a few bouquets since they kept withering (thankfully, that Silvermane Guard Captain salary is good!)
Finally, the day came.
Gepard shifted from one foot to the other, a habit of his when anxious. In battle, one always had to be on their toes. Though the matter ahead of him was far from a fight to the death on the front lines, it was a struggle nonetheless.
The brain's fight-or-flight response unfortunately didn't care to discriminate between a war with monsters and a nerve-wracking confession.
Maybe you weren't coming today.
No, no. Serval mentioned you had to swing by. You had an appliance giving you trouble, and she'd fixed it up and prepared it for delivery today.
His sister provided this opportunity for him. He couldn't back down!
However, as soon as sky blue eyes spotted your approaching figure, Gepard had to physically grab hold of his own arm to ground himself and prevent himself from running away.
He settled his anxiety as much as he could by hiding the flowers behind his back instead.
"Gepard?"
No going back now! You'd seen him!
His brain was in overdrive, and he found himself fending off trembles, face already going red. Aeons, he hadn't even gotten a single word out yet!
"That's me."
Okay, good, he'd gotten the first words out no problem.
"I thought you had patrol today. It's good to see you."
"G-Good to see you too!"
And there it was. A stutter, followed by a voice crack on the last word. The poor blonde man could've easily sank into a hole and withered away at that moment, but you only raised a brow, oblivious to his internal misery.
"Well, are you coming inside? I need to pick something up, and then I'm off. Sorry I can't stick around, especially since you're off duty for once."
"Y-Yeah, I'm coming. And it's okay!"
Gepard was far too caught up in his own gut-wrenching anxiety to notice the way you had rushed through your normally-casual sentences. Though your tone was the same, the slightest, most imperceptible tremble flitted after your every word.
When you entered, Serval was nowhere to be seen. You assumed she was in the back, and thus went to pop in and check, but as you did that, said woman snuck past and headed for the door, mouthing at her brother.
'Don't! Back! Down! Now!'
He swallowed thickly as she vanished, ducking outside to hide and await Gepard's long-overdue confession to you.
"Hm. Doesn't seem she's here. Maybe an errand..."
"Y/N!"
You raised a brow, leaning on the counter. "I'm right here, Gepard. No need to shout."
"Right! Right... Um! I just wanted to... I just... Err..."
"You alright? You're burning up, and I haven't even prodded at your singing or drawing today."
Those words only made the flare-up of his cheeks worse.
"I'm fine!" His voice had only increased in volume, and you winced. Your eyes flitted to the clock, and you sighed, taking a deep, shaky inhale.
Shift starts in a few minutes. I can always get the heater later, but... this is now or never.
Before Gepard could continue his train of thought, you interrupted, pulling out a small tin canister and slid it towards him on the counter. His ramblings cut short, he could do little more than stare down at it, calming down amidst his confusion.
"...This is?"
"Well..." you trailed off, glancing away and crossing your arms. Though Gepard was sure your expression was the same, pensive and uninterested, you adamantly hid it from him. "I didn't really know what else to get you."
...Huh?
"I could've gone for flowers, sure, but I guess they didn't seem very appropriate for you. You'd have no use for them."
Oh, but he would place them in the nicest vase money could buy, and stare at them for hours on end every day, thinking about the fact that it was you who brought them to him. No use? What nonsense.
"Then I thought chocolates, or maybe some other sweet, but I didn't know if you liked that sort of thing. I'm sorry I never asked."
What did you have to be sorry for? He'd eat anything you offered up, even if it were burnt or poisoned. And he'd accept it with the biggest smile, content in the fact that you had carefully worked on it for him.
"So, well, this seemed the most practical. Armor polish... for you. Keep up that 'Captain of the Silvermane Guards'-grade armor, and everything..."
Were he any less trained as a soldier for battle, Gepard could've shed a tear. Closed off, stoic, standoffish, yet you still remained the most considerate person he'd ever met.
He took the canister in one hand delicately, as if it were the most precious thing he'd ever touched, and then glanced up at you. A million words of gratitude and devotion were ready to spill from his lips all at once, but his brain fizzed out and he could manage but one.
"Why?"
You sighed deeply, the grip you had on your arm tightening.
"...ike you."
"...Huh?"
"I..." your voice increased in octave, but it fizzled out again at the end. "...eally... you."
"Y/N—"
"I really like you. There." With how loud you projected the words, anyone would assume you were confident and calm with their delivery, but your voice again contained the slightest timbre of anxiety beneath it. Still, with those firm eyes, you turned to look at him, confessing the thing he had taken weeks to even consider bringing up.
Perhaps, though, it had taken you weeks as well.
Gepard was silent, stunned into complete rigidity at your words. You knew he could be awkward, but the reaction he held only furthered your uncertainty, and you eventually turned to leave, somewhat dejected.
Before you could take even one step, though, a gloved hand took your arm as gently as possible, and Gepard was red and sweltering as if he'd just ran a marathon in full uniform to catch you.
"Wait! Wait!"
"Gepard, it's fine if you don't—"
"No, no! I like you, too!" Your confidence gave the Captain the boost he needed to finally blurt out the words, shoving the Ball Peony bouquet towards you. "I swear! That's, um... That's why Serval had me come by today."
It was your turn to be shocked—so shocked, in fact, that you didn't even bother to curse Serval out for setting you up like this.
Still, as Gepard slid his hand down to clasp your own, you couldn't bring yourself to feel too much enmity towards her.
"Um... If it's okay, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night, then...?"
You tried to hide your delight as best you could.
"...Tomorrow night sounds nice."
Gepard, however, could not hide his.
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⊹ Jing Yuan
It only took that one night of trickery, that one moment of Jing Yuan catching you hook, line, and sinker, for a routine to develop.
The General immediately took advantage of your acceptance and took you to the nicest restaurant the Xianzhou Luofu had to offer (and the most expensive, of course, much to your dismay).
As promised, he got his paperwork done on time.
But it wasn't more than a few days before he began slipping again.
Napping around his office, playing chess with Yanqing instead of working...
As soon as you got on his case again, you could see in the way his brow quirked that his mind was quick at work to justify himself.
Then, a wry smile had appeared—one you were both begrudgingly fond of and vehemently annoyed by.
"Well, Lady Y/N, go out to dinner with me again tonight and I promise to have my work done."
And so developed an unlikely routine—as long as you went to dinner after working hours, Jing Yuan would have his paperwork complete.
Of course, there were a few times when he slipped.
But whenever this happened, you vanished from the Seat of Divine Foresight before he could even awaken, and he found that the absence of your presence was punishment enough.
So now, him skimping his work was a rare occurrence. Even Yanqing was surprised.
"General, you've been a lot... busier, lately."
"Only as busy as I'm meant to be, my boy."
Golden eyes were immensely suspicious, and those same eyes watched the General in your presence carefully.
"...It's Lady Y/N, isn't it?"
Jing Yuan choked.
Even still, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the routine as well.
It was a win on both counts—you get a nice, expensive meal, and Jing Yuan also stops skipping important work!
Surely, it wasn't also a win to spend more time with the General. Surely...
He was still as cheeky as ever, though, especially now that you'd caved to his whims and spent more time with him.
Sometimes, he'd try to pass you alcohol and convince you to drink with him.
Of course, this was with the sly intention of getting you to open up and drop that stoic façade.
It never really worked.
Either you refused, citing work, didn't get drunk enough to become loose-lipped...
Or, in one instance, actually drank the General of the Luofu himself under the table.
Needless to say, you never did that again. Not only did you gain nothing but a raging hangover, the people of the Luofu who were present in the bar wouldn't shut up about it for weeks.
The rumors were even more ridiculous!
Though, you did gain something to tease Jing Yuan about, for once.
Dinner eventually turned into dinner along with a small walk together afterwards.
It took a lot of convincing and taking on extra work for Jing Yuan to get you to agree to the latter.
It was nice, though. Not only were you out in the fresh air, but you were free of the somewhat guilty burden of having the General paying for all your meals out of pocket.
Still, one day... he seemed different.
"General—"
"Lady Y/N—"
You both paused mid-sentence, cutting each other off. However, it was you who ultimately remained silent, gesturing for the man to continue.
Jing Yuan seemed... uncharacteristically nervous today. Was nervous even the right word for it? Perhaps it was, seeing as how his one visible eye darted back and forth.
Strange.
He cleared his throat loudly, reaching out a hand.
"I was only going to ask if you were ready to head to our usual dinner arrangement. I've made reservations."
Well, that was even more strange.
"General, you've never asked me before. You've just dragged me along. Are you feeling well?"
Despite your concern, you still accepted his hand just as naturally as always, allowing him to move your hand into position so that you were holding onto his arm. The first time he'd done this, you had recoiled, embarrassed at the proximity, but now, it was just as routine as your near-nightly dinner dates.
Dates? Were they dates? You pushed the thought as far away from your head as you could to avoid any red flush potentially springing to your cheeks.
"Of course I'm well." Jing Yuan only chuckled mildly, not meeting your gaze. "Shall we be off?"
You eyed him, but nodded slowly. On the way to the reserved seats, you began cautiously.
"...If you slacked off on your work and are trying to hide it from me..."
Honey-gold eyes met yours with a slight measure of surprise, and before you knew it, the General was laughing. A low, rumbling, and comforting sound that emanated from deep within his chest. It caused the dam you held to keep your cheeks from going red to burst.
"W-What did I say?!"
"Nothing, my dear... Absolutely nothing," he chuckled, wiping an imaginary tear. As much as the sight irked you, it also caused you to breathe a small sigh of relief.
He didn't seem as anxious any more.
"I was just a bit surprised."
"Well, I wouldn't be..." you grumbled. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Jing Yuan's smile turned crooked. "Come, now. I think I've been doing rather well at holding up my end of the deal. How long has it been since I last shirked my duties?"
"One week."
Your unimpressed response had his laugh turn nervous, but not in the same way as before. He glanced away at your dagger-like stare, murmuring some sort of excuse before giving up at the squeeze you gave his arm.
"I would say I've been doing well overall, though."
You acquiesced with a sigh. "That you have, General. Better than before, at least."
"Well, that is high praise. Coming from my poker-faced Lady Y/N, I'd have thought it'd take ten decades of work to satisfy your standards and achieve a compliment such as that."
You only grumbled in response, eliciting another laugh from your General.
So caught up in the conversation were you that it took you being seated in a private room to realize where you were.
"...This is where you first took me."
"Correct," Jing Yuan smiled, a hint of unease in his features as he fiddled with something beneath the table. "I thought it'd be appropriate."
"For...?" you trailed off, trying to recall if there was anything special happening today. "Did I forget a holiday?"
"No, no. I'll tell you later, Lady Y/N."
"Very well, General," you sighed, making your choice and setting your menu down. Surprisingly, a comforting silence filled the air until the attendant came to collect both of your orders, and even after that. Minutes passed, and the silence was now... less comforting.
Something was definitely off. By now, the General would be talking your ear off about something—whether informing you about his latest trickery with his and Yanqing's games of chess or teasing you for your uptightness in the latest meeting, he'd have something to say.
But Jing Yuan just sat there, smiling down at his hands, still fiddling. You eventually had enough, clearing your throat.
"...So, are you going to tell me why today is significant for this restaurant?"
The man jumped—did he jump? Did the famous General Jing Yuan just jump over a mere question from his advisor?—and paused, clearing his throat again. You had noticed he was doing that quite a lot this evening.
"Well, I should get it out of the way, shouldn't I? No use dwelling on it any longer, haha..." Finally, he extracted the item he had been messing with, sliding a small velvet box across to your folded hands. "Here you go, Lady Y/N."
"And just what is this?" you eyed it, then raised a brow. A small trinket from one of his expeditions, perhaps? But you weren't much of a collector or anything...
"Just open it."
"Very well." You paused momentarily, but slowly pulled the box towards yourself, pushing up the little hinged lid. In an instant, your hands clapped it back shut, your face turning thousands of shades of red.
Jing Yuan, while still anxious, found himself chuckling as he fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.
"General," you whispered harshly. "Is this some kind of joke?!"
"Well, I'd hope not, considering that little trinket cost me a fair chunk of my prior paycheck."
"General Jing Yuan, I'm being serious!" You were sweating bullets, trying to reign in your flustered state. "Explain yourself!"
The man cleared his throat again, and finally began to lay out his reasoning.
"You see, Yanqing was just getting so terribly tired of hearing me talk about you. In his words, 'You need to do something about it before I go insane, General.'" Jing Yuan was rambling. "So I went to a local jeweler and tried to find something nice, but none of them quite suit you the way I wanted. Then, I figured I should commission something, and—"
His rambling speech had given you time to process just slightly, just enough to cut him off and pose your own question.
"Are you proposing to me?"
Jing Yuan coughed.
"Well, I figured since we'd been to dinner together so many times—"
"—as General and his advisor!—"
"—but if you'd like to start with the label of dating, I'm perfectly fine with slowing it down to that. We do have nothing but time, after all."
You were about to shout some more, say anything, but the sight of Jing Yuan's somewhat flushed cheeks had you reeling, stunned into silence.
He was serious.
The General glanced up at you through his bangs.
"You don't have to give me your answer right now. But I'd be delighted to see you at least try the ring." And oh, when he beseeched you with those pleading eyes, how could you even think to say no?
You hesitantly opened the box, unable to fathom what was happening. In your state, you hadn't noticed Jing Yuan move to your side, taking your hand gently in one hand and the ring in his other.
"Allow me."
Tenderly, carefully, Jing Yuan slid the ring onto you. It fit like a glove, and you couldn't even think to wonder how he got your ring size down to a T. He gazed into your eyes with such adoration that you felt your brain going to mush.
"...It's lovely," you stammered. The General smiled.
"You're lovely."
Surely, the situation was about to escalate into something more.
An embrace? Possibly... a kiss? Just as you felt the very distinct possibility of your eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, the door to your private dining hall was slid open.
"I have the orders for one General Jing Yuan and one Lady Y/N—"
The waitress stopped short, eyes wide at the proximity between you and the General. Then, her eyes fell to your hands, the ring—
"Wait—"
"Ma'am, it's not—"
"Please forgive me! I'll leave you be!"
Without giving either of you even a moment to explain, the now beet-faced woman dashed away, shocked out of her poor mind. You exhaled shakily, and then whipped your head around as Jing Yuan laughed boisterously.
"General! The rumors!"
"Oh, they always spread some rumor or another. It's happened since we first started this little routine, and it won't cease now. But if you aren't interested, I will always happily have them dispelled."
You huffed another sigh, glancing away.
"...Who said anything about me not being interested?"
It was Jing Yuan's turn to be stunned, but he recovered annoyingly quick, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him.
"Really now? Well, I'll take that as your acceptance of my proposal. I will be stuck to your side from here on out."
"I'm accepting the dating proposal, not marriage, General!"
"For now."
"General!"
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⊹ Sampo Koski
The man who formerly avoided Natasha's clinic like the plague out of intense fear for Wildfire's motherly leader now found himself frequenting the joint more than the Fight Club.
Who would've guessed?
Well, you might've.
Ever since your run-in with the infamous Sampo Koski only a few weeks prior, it seems he'd made it his personal mission to only appear when you were working.
Of course, you only really worked night shifts, and Sampo was quite the night owl himself, but who's counting?
He still annoyed you to Hell and back.
The only edge you really had over him was when Natasha was in, helping you with the patients.
Sampo would stare at you from outside the window like a puppy left out in the rain—you could practically hear the whines and see the sad droop of metaphorical ears.
Natasha always knew he was by, and she'd always tease you about it, so in a way, you were both now avoiding her.
"Y/N... Your ol' buddy Sampo Koski got himself a booboo! Won't you fix me up?"
"Get lost."
"But it really hurts!"
"That's a flesh wound. Here's some ointment. Scram."
"Ouch! You're as cold as ever... Your words sting more than this egregious injury..."
A small, tiny voice inside your head was always thankful that he was never really as injured as he exaggerated, but he still found ways to negate even that tiny bit of mercy you held for him with his antics.
Usually, he'd just swing by to hop around you and ask for attention.
Really, he didn't want anything more than a few words from you or a few minutes of your time, but you didn't have much of either to spare with your work.
To catch your eye, he'd try to ham up his pain, but it never really worked.
A bandage there, an ointment there.
Sampo never failed to notice how you would always entertain those requests at least, giving him what he needed to care for himself.
Though he did long for your tender loving care again. Even if it meant being on the receiving end of your unimpressed stares.
Then, there was the time he asked for you to kiss his wound better.
That earned him a harsh clobbering to the head.
While you hated the distraction Sampo brought while you were actively trying to cure real patients, he wasn't all bad if he came at a good time.
Not that you'd ever admit it, though.
You'd given him enough ground with your little "For me" comment last time, and he'd never let you forget it as long as you lived.
When you were packing up your supplies and getting ready to trade shifts with Natasha, it was kind of... nice to see him around.
He'd bring you small doohickeys and trinkets from his latest scams expeditions, or talk your ear off about his adventures.
Scratch the dog analogy.
Sampo was more like a crow, squawking your ear off and delivering small, seemingly-insignificant, shiny treasures.
Somehow, his unending positivity and boisterous attitude was a nice contrast to the dreary place you were stuck in.
You were begrudgingly—with harsh emphasis on that word—becoming fond of Sampo Koski.
You weren't sure if this was a good thing.
"Y/N!"
You heaved a sigh, stretching out your weary limbs as Sampo came barreling into the clinic, thankfully uninjured. You kind of wanted to hit yourself for thinking of that first, rather than how obnoxiously loud he was being, but you digressed.
It seemed as though ever since your little run-in with him while he was badly wounded, he had taken your demand to stay out of harm's way to heart. Now, he rarely got anything more than a small bleeding cut or a sizeable bruise.
"How many times do I have to remind you to be quiet in the presence of my other patients? They're sleeping, Koski."
"Some things never change! Just like your painfully frostbite-y words, Y/N~"
You only grunted at that, collecting your tools and cleaning off your table. You always did like to leave Natasha with a neat workspace when she arrived.
"Sooo, I was thinking..."
"Sampo Koski, thinking? The Overworld must be crashing down on our heads as we speak."
"Yeesh, uncalled for..." the man grumbled, his energy bouncing back fast, though. "Let me take you somewhere nice. Think of it as a reward for working so hard and helping me out so many times, yeah?"
You raised a brow at that, and the conman clasped his hands together, that familiar grin sneaking onto his lips.
"After all, Sampo Koski always repays his debts! Never leaves a friend hanging!"
"You know the clinic's services for mild cases are free, right?"
"That generous heart of yours just makes me swoon, Y/N! But I can't possibly let you do me all this kindness without doing something in return!"
You sighed raggedly. "If this is you roping me into one of your scams..."
Sampo slapped a hand over his heart and clasped his chest as though mortally wounded. "You wound my poor soul, my heart, Y/N! Would 'lil old Sampo really do that to you?"
Your utterly deadpan glance sent him into nervous chuckles as he amped up his attempts to get you to come along.
"Come now, Y/N! You can trust me! Just this once, and if I wrong ya, you can toss me to the automatons! Honest to goodness!"
You were already yanking on your coat to follow when he crossed his finger over his heart as if to swear his undying allegiance to getting you back in one piece, sweeping past him out the door and grumbling something about being in your right mind to toss him to the robots anyways. The Sampo Koski looked a bit stunned at that, staring at you from within the clinic with wide emerald eyes.
"Well? Are you going to lead me there or no?"
"Ah, yes! Of course!"
Shockingly, it didn't take long to get to where the conman wanted to go. You had to duck past a few bots and avoid a few Fragmentum monsters, but really, that was every day in a place like the Underworld.
Yet, the bright glow of the huge Geomarrow vein caught your eye at once, sending you into awed silence.
Sampo smiled at that, dragging you along by the arm to a better vantage point. You stared up, admiring the rare beauty in a place as dreary as the Underworld.
As a doctor, especially an assistant to the only other doctor in the whole of the Underworld, you didn't really get the opportunity to go out and explore much beyond Boulder Town. Sure, there'd be patients you had to go to that couldn't make the distance to the clinic, but they were rarely beyond the walls of town.
The sight before you was truly something magnificent. Something you had never seen before.
"Well, like it?" Sampo nudged your arm, snapping you out of your trance as he grinned at you. "Told you it was cool! Thought you could use some time out of that stuffy clinic."
"It's..." You didn't quite know what to say. Words escaped you as you glanced between Sampo and the marvel of mineral. "It's really something. You weren't lying."
Even though you were too awed to realize you had admitted to his truth, the man beside you still hooted with laughter at his 'victory'.
Only when his joyful whoops calmed down did you manage to fully tear your eyes away from the sight, looking over to see Sampo trying to fiddle with something in his pocket.
"Sampo?"
The man jumped, and if you were any more alert to his antics, you would've assumed he was plotting something. However, he only hid his hands behind his back, beaming.
"What's up?"
"...Thank you."
The words were quiet, begrudging, but you managed them anyways. You expected immediate feedback from your so-called friend, only to be met with thick silence. You once again called his name, and he once again jumped.
"What's the matter with you? You've not got something criminal planned, do you?"
"Nope, Sampo Koski is always loyal to his word!" His chuckles were nervous, contradicting his statement. Just as you raised a brow and were about to speak up, however, he handed you a small chain.
"Haha, almost forgot!" Lie. "I had this for ya, too."
The item was placed in your hand before you could even protest, and you nearly leapt in shock when you realized what it was, were it not for your ability to keep on your stoic disposition.
A beautifully crafted, decorative Geomarrow wrist cuff sat in your palm, a nice rustic design to it that would compliment your outfit, surely. It looked more expensive than everything you owned combined.
"...Sampo—"
"See, an old buddy of mine owed me a favor from way back when. He's a jeweler nowadays, not super useful here, but I got my hands on a chunk of Geomarrow and he worked his magic! Cool, huh?"
"Sampo—"
"And that chunk isn't stolen, no siree bob! Got it completely legitimate this time! Paid out of pocket!"
"Sampo, are y—"
"It wasn't easy, but—"
"Sampo!"
The man finally stopped rambling, pausing to glance down at you with wide eyes.
"Haha, erm, yes, my dear Y/N?"
You would've felt your face flush—in fact, you were still actively staving off the heat to your cheeks—but you had to get one question out of the way first, a hardened expression on your face.
"You stole this, didn't you?"
"No!" Sampo's insistence was so adamant that it sent you aback. "Didn't you hear what I said? Honest, I didn't steal! Not a single part of the process was made with thievery or swindling! 'Cause you don't like it, and I wasn't about to confess in a way you don't like—"
"Confess?"
The conman stopped short, scratching his cheek and whistling inconspicuously, glancing anywhere but you. You weren't having much better luck with maintaining eye contact.
You glanced down at the cuff again, reluctantly sliding it on, but unable to deny how much you were taken by it. It was also the only way to distract yourself from the shock you felt, from the warmth now prominently displayed in your cheeks.
"So... yeah. Um. I did this all. For you. To confess, 'I love you' style and all of that, if that's how ya want to put it..."
"That's how you put it."
"Can you have some mercy on my poor heart?! Sampo's trying his best here!"
At that, you snorted. Then, you giggled. Eventually, you devolved into shaky, small laughter, chuckles that couldn't be hidden even by your typically impassive countenance.
For the first time in his life, Sampo found himself utterly dumbstruck. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, in a trance as he listened to your laughter, as sweet as the chime of a bell.
To Hell with confessions and acceptance, the man was fairly certain he could die happy just hearing such a sound and seeing such a look on your face. Even if you were laughing at the notion of him being in love with you, Sampo was confident he couldn't care less.
And then, for the second time that evening, the conman was struck speechless.
"Well... fine. I suppose I can graciously accept your feelings and your heart, Sampo Koski."
His eyes lit up like the Overworld sun.
"But only if you stop getting hurt. Period."
It wasn't enough to extinguish the light in his eyes, but it was enough to get him to droop, slinking over and hanging off your shoulder pathetically with a pout.
"Aw, then how am I going to see you?! Sampo Koski needs his Y/N time, or he'll be lost! I'm lost without you!"
It took everything you had not to clobber him—but this time, you were sure that twinge of annoyance was strong-armed aside by pure fondness.
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The Quiet Ones 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.
Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader
Note: don't ask me why I did this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You keep to yourself. That’s the safest, the easiest way to live. You keep your head down, your eyes to yourself, your voice bottled up. 
You grip your phone as you approach the coffee shop. You stand on your toes to see through the painted windows and frown at the long queue. You won’t have to worry about that. Like everything else social, you’ve found a work around. 
You look at your phone, the app showing your order as ‘preparing’. It should be done shortly as the progress bar fills close to complete. You can bear the claustrophobia for a minute or so until it’s ready. 
You go to open the door but an arm reaches past you and does that first. You step back, patiently waiting for the other customer to precede you. They don’t move. You stare at their shoes. Dark blue velvet loafers with gold emblems on chains.  
“Go on, baby face, I got it,” the man’s voice makes your skin crawl. 
You shrink down and give a nod, throat clenching as you struggle to find your voice. You’re not much for conversation but you’re but impolite. 
“Thanks,” you force out without raising your head. 
You scurry through quickly, a bit to close to the stranger than you like, and you clasp your phone against your chest as you stand just away from the cluster of people awaiting their orders. You bounce on your feet as the noises join together to form a cacophony; the hissing steam, the clanging metal, the clinking porcelain, the calls of the workers behind the counter, and the buzz of the crowd seated or standing around the cafe. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck as the chaos swirls a storm around you. 
You pull your phone away from the front of your pullover and check the screen. Should be ready any moment and you’ll be free of the circus. You adjust your grip on the phone, almost jittery as another customer joins the wait at the pick up window. 
You breathe out. It’s not usually this busy at this time. You have a routine. You can handle the expected. You order on your phone so you don’t need to talk to anyone. You wait outside until it’s almost done then come in too quickly claim your prize. But not today, something’s different and it’s throwing everything off. 
It’s only on Wednesday’s that you venture down to the cafe. It’s the halfway point of your week so you mark it with a taste of motivation. The same order every week. A London fog latte. Simple and affordable. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. 
Your name cuts through the din, “...medium London fog.” 
You drop your arm to your side and set your shoulders. You march forward through the parting bodies ahead of you and reach for the cup. Before you can grasp it, someone else scoops it up. You nearly cry out in horror. Someone’s stealing your order! 
You turn to the tea thief but they make no move to flee. They hold the cup nonchalantly, turning it to read the sticker on the side, reciting the same name that just rose from the barista’s lips seconds ago. You face the stranger but again, your eyes are downward.
The blue loafers! 
“Cute name,” he comments as he holds the cup out. 
You once more try to take the cup but before you can, he has it out of reach again. Your lashes flick and your fingers twiddle helplessly. His large hand is firmly around the cup so even if you did try to wrestle it from him, you doubt you’d have any hope but to spill it all. 
You look around but no one else seems to notice. They’re all staring at their phones or talking with the person next to them. The staff behind the counter are too busy appeasing the rush of orders. 
“I’ve never tried one of these,” he taunts, “I’m more of a ristretto guy. Like my espresso.” 
You shake your head and rescind your hand, balling it against your fist. What does he want? Why is he bothering you? You said thank you. Did he not hear you? 
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” he pushes the tea towards you, “there you are, sweat pea.” 
You hesitate. You slowly unfurl your fingers and reach for the cup. As you wrap your fingers around it, you can’t help but brush his. Thick and strong and unmoving. He clings to it for just a moment before he lets you have it. 
“Thanks,” you squeak again, this time louder so he certainly hears you. 
“You got a sweet voice,” he puts his hand on his hip, a glimpse of a shiny gold watch face peeking out from beneath his sleeve, “I’d love to hear more of it.” 
Your eyes round as you focus on the zipper of his thin jacket. You shake your head and meekly raise your cup awkwardly and dip your chin slightly. No thanks. 
You turn and weave your way back through the crowd. Your heart is thumping in your chest. What an odd encounter. 
More so, you’re dismayed that he saw you. That he noticed you. For years, you’ve done your best to be invisible. You prefer it that way. You don’t even think your neighbours know you exist. But that man, he seemed to see nothing but you. 
You push outside and nearly drop your cup. You try to steady yourself. You’re all knotted up and tense. You tuck your phone into your back pocket and bring the cup before you nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the foam. Something about it isn’t as soothing as usual. 
You turn down the pavement and wince as a sole scuffs close behind you. Suddenly, another set of steps walk next to yours, measured to keep in tandem with your own short legs. Blue velvet.  
You walk faster. Is he following you? Why? What does he want? He’s much taller, you can’t outpace him. 
“You know, when I said I’d like to hear more, I thought maybe over a coffee?” He suggests. 
You don’t say a word as you keep your eyes forward, squeezing your cup tight as you try not to swish it around too much. You’ve never had to deal with this before. Men don’t see you. There was a time you hated that but since, you were grateful for that. 
“I mean, I could do most of the talking, never had much of a trouble with that, jellybean,” he offers. 
You shake your head. Your throat tightens. You can’t speak. You want to scream but you can’t make a noise. 
As you get to the corner, you stop short. He steps past you but just as quickly catches himself and turns to face you. You gulp and look down at your cup. You can’t keep going. If you do, you’ll lead him right to your home. 
“What’s going on, sweetheart? You forget something? How about we head back and I’ll buy you something sugary to go with that?” 
You furrow your brow and step back on your heel. You bring your eyes up, a furtive glance at his face, brief and flickering. You just want to know what he looks like so you never see him again. 
His blue eyes twinkle, his nose is long but proportioned to his chiseled face, his hair is combed back, the sides shaved, and a thick swatch of hair lines his upper lip. He’s older than you, you know that much, but you’ve never good at gauging age. You’ve never seen him before but you can’t be sure. You don’t look at many faces. 
You pivot and cross the street without looking. You narrowly miss a bumper and get a honk in remonstrance. You can’t stop yourself. You’re panicking. You head down the next street as his footsteps follow. It’s all you can hear.  
As you pass a bin, you dump the drink. You don’t pause as it plummets heavily into the trash and you fall into a brisk half-jog. You pump your arms, puffing wildly, dizzy as you search for a saviour.  
You dash into the library. You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just for anyone to get this man to leave you alone. 
You don’t look back as you enter and head straight for the front counter. You’re out of breath as you approach the rounded edge and tap the bell frantically. A woman emerges from behind the window wall and she greets you with a confused chime. 
“Hello, can I help you?” She asks. 
“Yes, I need...” you gulp and glance at the doors. You push away from the counter and spin, searching. You don’t see the man. He’s probably waiting outside. But you never looked back. You never really saw if he was following. “I...” you turn back to the woman, “never mind.” 
You cross your arms and turn away. You cringe as you realise how ridiculous you must have seemed. Worse, you didn’t mean to bother someone just doing their job and over what? You’re own issues. You should go home, back to your reclusion, where you can’t be in anyone’s way. 
👄
When you finally muster the courage to leave the library, your journey home is slowed by your paranoia. You have your phone out, held up so you can see over your shoulder with the front camera. You watch the screen more than the sidewalk ahead of you. 
You get home without a second shadow. As you let yourself through the grated front door of the building, you can’t help but feel stupid. That man must’ve got the idea when you as good as ran in the other direction. You’re being dramatic. 
You close the camera and put your phone away. You waist six dollars in your frantic flight. You mourn the tea latte as the heavy inner door clunks shut behind you. You drag your feet up the stairs as your keys jingle on your finger. 
You apartment is at the very end of the hall. You enter and twist the latch. You slide the chain into place and hang the key ring on the little hook beside the door frame. You untangle your purse and leave it with your phone on the table in the corner. 
You shuffle the few feet to the front room and look around. You find comfort in the familiarity of your little apartment. Your hideaway. 
You go back to your desk and sign back in. You’re back later than usual but you can still make up the time. As long as there’s enough tasks left in the portal. You don’t have to let that man ruin your whole day. You’ll never see him again. In a few days, you won’t even remember him. 
👄
Wednesday. Halfway through the week.  
You scroll and click around your screen as you watch the clock in the corner tick on. Usually around this time, you’d be excited. You’d clock out for your break and go down to the cafe. As much as you looked forward to the treat, the walk alone was relaxing in its own way. 
Not that day. Despite your efforts to shrug off the strange encounter, you haven’t shaken it. So instead, the kettle boils as a bag of earl gray sits in an empty mug. You’re not going. Maybe next week. 
You’re a bit depressed but you’re too nervous to make the venture. Oh well, you’ll save a bit of money. You could find a different place next time. That might be easier. 
You stay logged in and claim a new task. Hey, you can be done work earlier if you can power through. You might even make a few extra bucks. 
The kettle clicks and you get up to pour the water. You leave it to steep, forgetting it for the screen before you. Your fingers tap endlessly across the keyboard, filling the silence as you zone in on the words, transcribing messy ink to Times New Roman. 
Your trance is broken by a sudden buzz. You sit up, the kink in your neck pangs. You need to stop hunching. The buzz comes again. Is that... It must be a mistake. It happens now and then, someone buzzes the wrong apartment. 
You get up as it sounds a third time and you shuffle down to the speaker box. You hit the button, “wrong number.” 
“No--” 
You let go of the number before you can hear the response. They buzz again. You sigh. You hit the button. 
“I’m sorry but you have the wrong number,” you repeat. 
“I don--” 
You release the button again and take a step back. Buzz! You’re getting annoyed. You hit the button. “Wrong--” 
“Got a delivery. 212.” The man’s voice drowns out your own, reciting your name after your apartment number. Your finger stays on the button as you frown. A delivery? 
“I’m not expecting a delivery.” 
“Are you...” he says your name again. 
“... yes.” 
Silence, filled with the low hum of the speaker, “so, can I come up or...?” 
“Uh, I guess.” 
You pull your finger away and hover it over the other. Maybe it’s from work? There was the one time they sent a cheap mass production travel mug with their logo on it as some incentive. A poor attempt at employee appreciation. 
You press down and hold until you’re certain they have enough time to get in. You wait by the door, ringing your hands. You hear the door at the end of the hall open on its old hinges and you peek through the peephole. 
You watch the fuzzy figure come into focus with each of his long steps. He doesn’t hold a box nor wear the uniform of a postal worker. No, he wears those blue leather loafers and holds a bright pink paper cup with a white lid. From the cafe.  
As he comes close, you get a pigeon’s eye view of the hair on his upper lip and his bold blue eyes. It feels like he can see you too as he stands smirking on the other side of the door. This can’t be real. 
He knocks and you wince as the door shifts in the frame. 
“Special delivery,” he calls through, “open up, baby face.” 
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beans-in-soup · 1 month
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LOVE YOURSELF
————————————
Warnings: Self harm, infliction of pain, hurt comfort
Syno: Hazbin characters finding out you SH.
Req by: @valentin0000
—————————————
Lucifer:
how they find out — Lucifer suspected you were going through something because he knows how it’s like to be depressed and he senses those signs from you, he catches you in the act one day while you are harming yourself.
What they do- he doesn’t really know what to do at the beginning, when he first catches you, he gets a little angry at himself that he couldn’t help you before you got to the point of inflicting pain onto yourself, he kinda just would cradle you and tell you all the reasons he likes you for you. Later that evening he’d go deep diving into mental health, he learns a lot a he learns some things that help him with his mental health as well. He tries things that he’s learned online to help you and tests multiple distractions to maybe see if any of them work for you. He’s uneducated on the topic but he will go out of his way to learn more and keep you safe.
Angel dust:
how they find out — He didnt suspect you’d be doing those types of things because you were always so calm and relaxed around him, not an ounce of stress or anxiety on your features at all. Until one day Husk was talking to him about how everybody acts when they’re drunk and when husk got to you his demeanor changed and he said that the way you acted when you were drunk was tad concerning. Later that day he questions you and you fess up.
What they do- He nods when you fess up but doesn’t bug you on the topic anymore instead he just quietly walks away in understanding and goes to cry in his room, he felt really messed up about it and couldn’t drop it after that because he knows how it feels to feel so helpless that you turn to negative things to keep you “happy”, the next day he decides to help you with the way he helps himself when he gets like this, so he goes into your room and offers to get your mind off some things and go shopping with him instead. That becomes a routine for you two, whenever you get the temptation to take the pain out onto yourself or when you have anxiety or breakdowns, you can always go to him and he’ll distract you with another hangout session, most of the time he’s getting you out of the hotel for some fresh air whether that be for more shopping, watching a movie, or eating some food he’ll do it just to make sure you don’t hurt yourself anymore..and you best believe the check is always on him!!
Vox:
how they find out — He wasn’t trying to intrude or be creepy, he really wasn’t but, he watches everybody in the Vee tower with cameras, and when his camera happened to stop on you and show what you were doing in what you thought was a private area, he kinda glitched out for a second.
What they do- He immediately zaps around the tower to go find you, once he sees you in the living room of the Vee tower, he confronts you head on about the subject, it almost throws you off and if you were a tv head like him you’d be glitching too. You question how he figured it out but he says to nevermind that. He gets a little angry not at you but mostly at himself, he really does appreciate you he just doesn’t know how to show it, so instead he strictly tells you to never hurt yourself again, or he’ll have to hypnotize you not to. He knows that just firmly telling you won’t help, so instead he has more cameras set up around the tower for extra measures..and whenever he sense you’re feeling slightly off, he keeps an extra eye on you.
Valentino:
how they find out — you kinda told him yourself, he didn’t really think that you were feeling sad or depressed in any way, until he asked to shower with you and you kept denying, which was odd of you since you guys have bathed and showered together many times, Valentino is about to throw a pissy fit and ask you why in his usual whines until you come out and just say it.
What they do- he’s stunned, he instantly feels like and asshole for bugging you and, he pulls you into him to cuddle, that’s how you both stay that night, cuddled up and crying into eachother with kisses and everything. Val doesn’t really know how to make you feel better per say, so he does what he’s good at, which is gift giving, he puts his money to good use on you, hoping it will make you feel better, he may even buy you a hellhound or another hellish support animal to keep you happy while he’s gone at shoots, he’ll also ask Vox to install cameras on you as well behind your back. And he’ll treat and spoil you like royalty!!!
————
Hope you guys like, also I hope I did you justice @valentin0000 !!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
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diddybok · 8 months
Note
May I request a poly skz + reader, or just Minsung or Chanlix/Hyunlix if you want, totally up to you. Reader relatively new to the relationship and is trying their best to be the best partner to all parties, but doesn’t feel like it’s being returned. They feel like skz (or whichever ship you choose) is too into each other and not them, like the shiny new toy isn’t exciting anymore. One night, after everyone goes to sleep, reader gets their things and leaves without saying anything. You can change the plot a bit if you’d like. If you’re not comfortable with writing it, that’s ok!🩵
all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)
➩pairing: minsung x gn!reader
➩genre(s): angst, poly!skz
➩warnings: none
➩wc: 0.6k (655)
➩author’s note: sorry this took so long, i hope it was even a fraction of what you wanted!
➩part(s): next
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You are exhausted. To put it plainly. You just don’t know how much more you can take. Of course you love the boys, you really do. However something has shifted, and not for the better.
First you started noticing small changes. When Jisung and Minho would come back late from practice, they would usually bring you a sweet treat followed by kisses and cuddles to make up for the lost time. Now it’s barely even a ‘Sorry we’re home late.”
You aren’t used to this, used to feeling like an afterthought in your own relationship. Then again, you weren’t quite sure how well it was going to go between the three of you. They were already so in tune with each other and then you came along.
They made you feel like the missing piece. The rarest jewel to add to their shiny golden crown. You didn’t think it was possible to be truly loved by two people, nor did you think you could love two people as much as you do them.
The tender care and appreciation that came from the both of them was nothing short of remarkable. The intimacy that was shared between the three of you was never overwhelming.
You love Minho. You love Jisung. They love you.
At least, they loved you.
When it was once you in the middle, being doted on each side by the boys you adored. You now reside on the outside as they cuddle each other, a pity hand resting upon your thigh.
When it was once you who ran you fingers through both of their hair as they melted into your touch. You now get told “You don’t have to do that tonight.” “You seem tired you should get some rest.” “It’s alright, I’ll do it for him.”
When it was once a trio. It now falls back into the familiar routine of when you weren’t even a blimp in their lives. Minho and Jisung against the world, oh and Y/n.
“Do you guys still love me?” You would ask timidly.
“Of course we do Y/n! Why would you think such a thing?”
You thought you had done something wrong. Why were they pushing you away? Even when you increased the amount of love you were giving them, you didn’t get anything back.
You were always at the tail end of the relationship. It only became clear to you now.
You still love them. Of course you do. How could you not?
But you are no fool. You are not one to be strung along like a little pet on a leash. You know when you aren’t wanted. When you, the jewel, were not quite glued in securely and fell out of the crown.
Perhaps it always looked better with only the two jewels. Perhaps you were there as a tester, to see what it would look like.
New and exciting, glamorous and beautiful. It was what they needed…until they didn’t.
As you lay at the edge of the bed, the two of them cuddling beside you, you quietly unwrap yourself from the sheets. You grab your already packed bag that was in the wardrobe.
They didn’t even notice your toothbrush was gone when they came home late and did their nightly routine.
Yes but they didn’t even give you a kiss goodnight.
You shouldn’t cry, but you can’t help the tears that cascade down your cheeks.
You know it is for the best. You need to put yourself first, your feelings first.
Which is why you place the key you had to the house on the kitchen island. You don’t look back as you walk out the door. Walk out of their lives.
Maybe that was what they wanted from you all along?
Maybe you just weren’t ready for something like this?
Or maybe you know your worth. You know you’re worth enough to be loved as much as you love.
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i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.
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taglist: @lyramundana
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cryptidcorners · 6 months
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Josh Futturman x Reader Headcanons
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= Character: Josh Futturman
= Media: Show!Future Man
= Prompt: N/A
= Description: Just !Platonic & !Romantic mixed Headcanons!
= Request: N/A
= Tags: Fluff ! Headcanons, Shy/Awkward Josh, Romantic + Platonic, Established Relationship, Some Comfort + Reader is !GN
= Warnings: None.
= Please Read my INTRO before interacting !
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Josh has always struggled to maintain relationships, including ones with friends. Not only because he's incredibly socially awkward, but his escapism within videogames plays a major factor. So, he treasures what he has with you much more seriously than anyone you knew.
Rambles about his games all the time. His interests are something you can never get him to shut up about. Josh is usually into strategies, lore & development, his favorite being "Biowars", which you already knew had quite the reputation for being a challenging videogame.
He's pretty bubbly, especially around you. Josh is an absolute sweetheart and will get flustered at almost anything. His childish personality roots out much more when you're around, mostly because Josh feels more comfortable.
He isn't very open about his feelings, mostly because he's afraid of losing people. Josh desperately wants to be a part of something and refuses to mess it up somehow. Josh, however, is very different when you're opening up. He'll advise, comfort and try to cheer you up. (It's actually crazy how good his advice is sometimes.)
Josh is content with following you anywhere, as long as it doesn't involve his house or hear his parents. If I'm going to be honest, if he's particularly choosing somewhere to lounge, it'd be an arcade. It's a field where he specializes in and he can impress you easily. It's also somewhere he can discard his low self-esteem and indulge in his skills.
Praise is like a drug to Josh. Compliments or any sight of you liking him (or what he's doing), he feels intense dopamine. He really enjoys making people happy.
He's pretty charismatic sometimes, even when he's not trying to be. Josh is usually awkward when directly talking to somebody with a set question or goal in mind, but when he needs to go with the flow, it's much more grounded. With you in mind, Josh is much more relaxed, so he isn't as shy as he is with strangers.
Wouldn't exactly say he's very affectionate, but he wouldn't mind hugging either. Again, Josh is pretty awkward, and I doubt he rarely showcases soft intimacy around anyone (whenever it's platonic or romantic). He would love to do it, but he's very shy. Though, he isn't afraid to try. If you ask, he's perfectly fine with holding your hand or sitting close.
As I mentioned, Josh is very tentative on affection, especially receiving it, but he loves getting his hair and face touched. Dude needs love.
Digs through your trash. He doesn't have any ill intents, but Josh will take time out of his day to scavenge through waste instead of asking you a minor question. I know I mentioned he's very relaxed around you, but Josh definitely overthinks, especially with relationships. He tries his best.
Will cry real tears of joy if you ever give him something. Josh really appreciates gifts, no matter who it's from. Even if it's not game related, he's definitely holding onto it for a while. (Bonus Points If: It's an animal toy, a decoration or handmade.)
Romantically speaking, he enjoys kissing you or indulging in anything sweet. A lot of giggling & sweet talk. Josh isn't very experienced in relationships like this, so he tried to wing it. Needless to say, he probably gets advice from Google images and it's adorable to see him try his best to impress you.
Will always defend you, even if he fails miserably. Absolute trooper.
Josh will one hundred percent get emotional at any piece of film he is watching with you. Especially if it's a game cutscenes and it involves animals.
Huge softie. I don't think Josh can handle saying anything remotely mean to you or reviving it. If he does, expect a flood of apologies.
Can get way into character sometimes, whatever context this is. You know what I'm talking about.
Very clingy. No other words.
Lastly, he'd definitely call you nicknames in the cutest way possible. If he lets you call him "Joshy", you've probably earned the highest pillar of his trust.
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robinofgothamcity · 1 month
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"so i cry and i pray for you to love me, love me, say that you love me."
♡ character: damian wayne x reader
♡ pronouns used: she / her
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / hiiii ik i haven't updated in a while but like life bro lmao anyway im trying to find a new job bc a bitch needs money so like big girl stuff happening around here anywayyyyyy here is a blurb/drabble thing i kinda made it up on the fly so sorry if it's shitty
your rose gold dress was dragging against the floor as you were going around from league member to league member introducing yourself on the behalf of black canary. the annual JLA gala was one with a bunch of uppity superheroes and their sidekicks trying to get on everyone's good side which did not interest you at all.
your domino mask was not comfortable at all, nevertheless, it clashed with your very expensive dress. you knew dinah would have liked you to make your rounds with everyone but you were not interested in making friends with anyone that you weren't with usually.
you had been looking for jon or jaime but you figured that they must have gotten dragged around the gala by batman or even superman for things they didn't want to do themselves.
as you approached the snack table, you noticed the R patch standing right in front of you. you had yet to met the infamous robin and although you figured that batman was going to need your assistance in the teen titans one day in the not so distant future, you assumed that your first encounter with the boy wonder would be there.
you handed robin the drink he was looking for and smiled, "figured it beat having to reach across the table for it," the boy gave you a smirk, instantly making your face warm up, "(sidekick name) right? canary's righthand woman?" you nodded, "interesting way of meeting each other," you replied.
robin chuckled as you heard jaime finally scream your name frantically from the other side of the room, "sorry for cutting this short, duty calls when your dumbass best friend is calling for you," you stated as you grabbed your dress and darted to where jaime was.
damian swirled his drink around for a moment before grabbing his phone. he knew bruce hated when he was on his phone but he never thought that canary's sidekick was this....cute. damian also knew everyone's name, no thanks to bruce, so he knew it wasn't going to be too difficult to retrieve your information.
damian had found your instagram which was public and immediately scrolled through it. he found what was normal for girls your age. pictures with you and your sorority friends in some and others showed pictures of you and your family.
as damian continued to scroll he noticed the eye twitch he'd get when he saw a photo of you and a guy friend with his hand a bit too tight on your upper thigh. he knew that he didn't have any reason to get even slightly jealous, however; it wasn't a secret that whatever damian liked he eventually got.
he chuckled at the picture he saw of you looking up at dinah as you hugged her with a simple heart as the caption. damian knew that you weren't stupid enough to give off any real connection that you had to dinah but he figured that you must've wanted to appreciate for taking you under her wing.
damian made his way to where you were with jaime, bart, jon, and a few others. you were leaning against the bar, having a beer with jaime and jon as jon was the first to notice him.
"hey robin, fancy seeing you here with the rest of us mere mortals," he joked. it wasn't very common to see damian with the rest of the titans and young justice team. he was usually glued to batman's side as it was his duty to fulfill any questions he had of his own but he figured that since had taken an interest with you, one night like this wouldn't be so bad.
jon followed damian's eye trajectory and chuckled in amusement.
"shooting for the big leauges, huh?" jon asked. damian looked over to him so he could elaborate, "canary's sidekick is a very popular girl to say the least. the media loves her, i can't begin to explain how man lovesick letters i've had to sort through from her fans, and the league themselves love her. plus, i've noticed that a lot of our teammates are very interested in getting to know her, if you get what i'm saying."
damian scoffed, "and i'm damian wayne so lets see how that fairs for everyone else," jon knew damian was as cocky as they came but he knew that his confidence was on another level and what he wanted he usually got whether it meant getting his hands dirty for it or not.
the lights in the roomed had dimmed as he noticed that you were now by yourself with a wine glass between your fingers. damian fixed his tie as jon dusted his best friends shoulders off in encouragement. jon was always ready to support his best friend in anyway that he could even if that meant slightly sabotaging his other friend's chances with you in the process.
you were sipping your red wine as damian approached you cooly, "hey robin! nice seeing you again!" he smiled slightly as he took your cheap wine and set it on the table and handed another one for you to tase, "a red wine from napa, 1909 to be specific," your eyes widened as you took a sip.
"it's slightly bitter but it's pretty good," you replied as you took another drink, "thank you for this, i didn't think i'd be getting any kind of drinks from anyone tonight," you added on.
damian put his shoulder against the wall as he noticed how he practically towered over you, "do you think i could have this dance with you?" he asked as he heard the next song start to play.
you were shocked to say the least.
you knew how hard it was to get on robin's good graces and you had practically done nothing to achieve it. the song was slow and he took your hand softly as he led you to the dance floor.
thankfully, the room was dark enough to where others wouldn't notice that it was him dancing, "thank you for asking me. i didn't think i was interesting enough to get a dance from thee boy wonder tonight," damian laughed, "the pleasure is all mine. i didn't think canary had such an interesting protege,"
"i can't say i'm that interesting, i'm still working my way up the league ladder," you replied. damian scoffed, "it won't take long to make you an official hero," he stated, "with someone of your strength and abilities alone, i can imagine you'll be called up in no time."
you giggled excitedly as damian spun you around and had you face him but closer now, "but before that happens i guess i'll teach you the ropes," he whispered, "and can i ask what that might include?" you asked.
damian lifted your chin and stared at you with his emerald eyes.
"i think i can give you a taste test before the exam approach."
damian was never this straight forward, especially when it came to other league members and their sidekicks but he knew what jon said was correct. it didn't take an idiot to realize how loved you were by everyone and he knew his competition, mainly jaime and connor, could easily win you over so he did the only thing he knew to do in a situation like this, act like his playboy billionaire father as much as he could and from what he could tell, he was on the right track.
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xxaraaq · 10 months
Text
𝙄𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚
masterlist
Synopsis | Bakugou hates people touching him. But after certain events take place, he waste no time in reaching for your embrace.
Word count | 4.2 k
cw | character death, angst
Bakugou x Black!reader
A/N | I feel like I did a pretty good job with this. I hope you enjoy!
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You didn't know what to say. Staring at him as he lays on your chest like a son would lay on his mother. You were shocked. Even throughout your near year and a half month relationship, he has never initiated touch like this. During a night full of deep conversations and wine, he had revealed to you that the idea of someone touching him further than a pat on the back or high five made him writhe in his skin. You respected it through and through, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness that sat in the back of your mind.
It struck something in your heart to see him making an effort to show affection towards you, to show you that he really cared in a way he wasn't suited to. You loved seeing how he would slowly reach his arms around you to reciprocate a hug. He knew physical touch meant the world to you. He didn’t understand why, but he told himself that he didn’t need to, that he only needed to try his best to make you feel appreciated in the way he knew you would see. 
It was an unsuspecting, rainy day when he entered your shared apartment. You were immersed in a book for an assignment due in the coming days, blasting music through your headphones.
You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, and he didn’t blame you for it. He couldn’t, for he knew you wholeheartedly felt it unnecessary to be ‘constantly on guard’. You told him that it wasn’t good for the soul to be in a frequent state of paranoia. He knew you only told him this to avoid a lecture when he scared you as you were walking down the hallway leading to the laundry room shared by everyone in the apartment complex. 
He tapped you gently on the shoulder, effectively and unsurprisingly making you jump. “What the hell!” You squealed, putting a hand to your chest. He doesn’t tell you off like he usually does, instead just looking at you with glossed over eyes and drooping shoulders. “Babe, what's wrong?” You questioned, taking your airpods out and putting them in their respective place. He doesn’t answer, opting to lay, almost collapse, onto your chest and torso. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.
Your eyes widen in shock. He’s never done something like this. What almost stuns you more is his scent. He took a shower at Best Jeanists’ agency. He nevers does that, only resorting to cleaning himself there when he’s too covered in the labors of his day to comfortably walk home. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but then you feel a tear dampen your shirt. More start to follow, and before the two of you knew it, he was full on sobbing. He hiccups and sniffles as his arms come around your waist, circling you as if you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. You freeze, not knowing how to go about this the right way as to not make the situation any worse. You wanted to cry yourself, seeing the love of your life be so sad. But instead, one hand goes to his back, and the other to his head, caressing him in a comforting manner. He cries his heart out, and you let him, continuing to soothe him in the best way you know how. 
Eventually, the sobs turn silent, and the pair of you lay there in silence, not daring to say a word. You go on with your ministrations, stroking his head reassuringly. You hope he gets the message of your actions, that he understands that whatever happened, you’re here. You sigh a breath of relief when he lifts his head, gazing into your eyes. He sighs, asking if the two of you can talk about it in the morning. You agree almost instantly, telling him to not worry about it. And you sit there with him in silence, simply basking in the presence of each other until you fall asleep.
You wake up to find yourself in a room with no one besides yourself. Rubbing your eyes, you walk into the kitchen to find him washing dishes, back facing you. You walk forwards, standing next to him in a silent way of saying good morning. He turns the water off and sighs, not knowing where to start. “Yesterday… I was at work when…” He stops in his tracks, rubbing a tired hand across his face. You could tell he was getting frustrated, so you don’t say anything, only looking at him while he tries to formulate his words. “While I was patrolling yesterday, some shit broke out outta nowhere, and this kid ended up dying.” He pauses, groaning at the memory. “I was with him the whole time, and he was talking about how he couldn’t wait to see mom because they were supposed to watch a movie together when she picked him up. He couldn’t have been more than six, and he just… bled out, right in front of me. And what hurt the most was that I couldn’t do shit about it, and I just had to tell him that it was gonna be okay when he knew it wasn’t. He knew I was lying, but he had a smile on his face the whole time. ” A tear slips down your cheek, and you rush towards him. “I am so sorry Kat.” You say, and he knows you mean it. 
You hug him, and he hugs you back. And he hurts, he hurts so bad. But he feels as though he can feel better in your embrace. It doesn’t make him nauseous to feel your body on his anymore, and it makes the pain a little bit better. You make him a little better.
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-Nene
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crueisummer · 10 months
Text
𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝓒𝓛16
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
series summary: Kika and Pierre invite you to their engagement party where you meet her and Pierre’s friends from F1, specifically, a certain handsome Monegasque driver.
chapter summary: You and Charles stay up talking about your dreams, fears, insecurities, and things that haunt your mind when you're alone.
chapter warnings: vvv emotional, feminism (oh no! jk), derogatory remarks, swearing, mental health, mentions of death (herve, jules, tonio)
playlist: ♫ gorgeous ♪ delicate ♬ i think he knows ♡ you are in love
author's note: Part 2 means we're halfway there!! For this chapter, I focused on the delicate's chorus to show the more vulnerable and "human" side of the characters. I will add the other aspects of the song to the following chapters. I also wrote this in a different style but I hope u guys like it. <333 Lastly, thank you all so much for almost 500 likes on the first chapter. ·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·. screaming! crying!
word count: 3.5k
disclaimer: All characters and events in this story, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
                ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
01:57 ━━━━●───── 03:52 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮
The light beamed into your eyes from the window, intensifying the pounding in your head and increasing your thirst. As you opened your eyes, you squinted against the brightness, gradually adjusting to the sudden flash. Sensing movement beside you, you turned around to find Charles sleeping shirtless beside you. Memories of the previous night flooded back, replaying in your mind.
Before leaving the party with Charles, you looked for Kika to inform her of your departure. Seeing Charles waiting for you near the elevator, phone in hand, she expressed concern with a worried expression. Charles had recently ended a three-year relationship, and his ex happened to be the best friend of his previous ex. Kika was well aware of Charles' red flags, as she knew you, her dear friend Y/N, were known for wholeheartedly loving and falling hard for others who often failed to appreciate you as you deserved.
“Please be careful,” She smiled at you to which you nodded. She watched as you approached Charles and he smiled upon seeing you. As you waved farewell to Kika, she softly whispers to herself, “with each other’s hearts.”
You and Charles found yourselves seated on the floor of your hotel room's living room, uncomfortable party clothes off, cozy hoodies on, and legs crossed, with a spread of chips, beer, and mini alcohol bottles laid out before you. During your conversation, you discovered your shared value of family, discussing the strong relationships you both had with your loved ones.
"Are you close to your mom?" It was a question you always asked the guys you were interested in. You believed that a man who had a good relationship with his mother would treat his partner with love and respect. Although it didn't always turn out to be true, you still posed the question.
"Yeah, the first thing I do when I return to Monaco is visit her. You know, she's the only one I trust to cut my hair?" Charles smiles warmly, reminiscing about his mom. "You see, she's a professional hairdresser. So, sometimes when she watches me on TV, she'll send me a text saying I need a haircut. I just reply with her flight details to come see me, and we laugh about it, but she still comes over. That's why I've never had a bad haircut!"
"That is adorable! How often does she visit and watch your races?" You ask, eager to know more about his mother.
"Well, not as often as I'd like, that's for sure. She usually accompanies Arthur to his races."
"Races? He races too?"
"Yeah, he competes in Formula 2. Sometimes the Formula 1 and 2 races coincide on the same weekends so I get to see them both." You're momentarily taken aback. Wow, they must be RICH rich!
"Formula 2? How many Formulas are there?!" You exaggerate.
"Just three, cheri," he chuckles. "You know, my dad used to race in Formula 3 back in the '90s."
"So, it runs in the family, huh? What does your dad do now?" You inquire, looking down and grabbing a chip. The room falls into an unexpected silence, and you glance up, noticing a soft and melancholic expression on his face.
"Well, actually, I lost my dad seven years ago," he replies, offering a tight-lipped smile.
"Oh, Charles! I’m sorry, I had no idea..." Shock overtakes you, and you instinctively cover your mouth with your hand. Is that why he’s only been talking about his mom and brothers the whole night?
He interrupts, "No, it's okay. I think I’m getting used to talking about it. You know, they always interview me about their deaths. Sometimes I feel like they don't truly respect them, or me, and they just want me to talk about them for views and content."
"Deaths?" You're taken aback, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words.
"Yeah, over the past seven years, I've lost three important people in my life. My dad, my godfather Jules, and one of my best friends, Tonio."
"Charles, I'm so sorry to hear that. How have you been coping?" Rising from the floor, you move closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his thigh.
"Sometimes I find myself spiraling into these depressive episodes where I just want to close off my heart. Because if you close your heart, no new people can enter, only to leave again." He looks away, his eyes welling up with tears. Your expression softens, and he musters a small smile in your direction. He continues, his voice filled with emotion, "I've tried it before, but I realized that it doesn't make anything easier. These days, I just choose to remember them for who they were, their lives, their dreams, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am today."
You were taken aback at Charles’ maturity. The mere thought of losing someone dear to your heart was overwhelming, and here he was, having experienced the loss of not just one, but three significant people in his life. You couldn't help but admire him for getting through his hardships and finding happiness in the time he shared with them. Especially since he uses it as motivation to be a better person.
As your conversation continued, you decided to shift to a lighter topic in an attempt to lift Charles' spirits. You shared stories of performing in numerous countries, while Charles recounted his experiences racing in Formula 1 events across the globe. You laughed at how unfamiliar you were with his sport, just as he was with your music.
He asks if you have your phone with you.
"Um, it's somewhere around here," you respond while searching for it. Eventually, you spot it on the kitchen counter. "Why?"
"Just open Apple Music or Spotify, whichever you prefer," he says with a mischievous grin as you sit back down in front of him. You nod and show him that Apple Music is open.
"Now search for my name," he instructs, and you type his name, discovering that he is listed as an 'artist'. There’s no way…
"Charles Leclerc Artist? How are you an artist?" you raise an eyebrow at him and glance back at your phone. You notice that he has released two songs in the past year.
He laughs at your confusion. "Well, Ms. Grammy singer, I also play the piano. I wrote these songs last year and finished them around the time of the Australian GP and the Miami GP, which is why they're named AUS23 and MIA23."
You're shocked, your mouth hanging open dramatically as you listen to the songs. Charles laughs at your reaction. You didn't think he could become any more attractive, and now he surprises you with this. Could he be the incarnation of your dream man?
"That's amazing! I guess I know who to call when I need help with a song," you wink at him, and he chuckles.
"No, no. You're at least 100 times better than me. I don't have as much talent as you do to write lyrics for the music," he praises you.
“Okay, since you know a bit about my art and making a song and all that, I, on the other hand, have no fucking idea about Formula 1. Like, why do you have to travel all around the world and race on different tracks? Is it like some kind of world tour?" You burst into laughter at your own humorous analogy, and Charles, who was as intoxicated as you, finding it amusing as well.
“Do you really want to understand it?” You nod at his question as he sits up straight and stretches his head and hands, “warming up” to explain.
"You see, every race weekend is different. Let’s say you do Plan A for this weekend, sometimes it works, and we get podium. But sometimes despite our best efforts, it doesn’t. So, after the race, we talk about what went right and what went wrong and then we make a new plan for the next race. Do you understand so far?”
You nod at him. Though a slight confusion still lingered in your mind, you couldn't help but be captivated by the passion radiating from his every word. The way his eyes sparkled, and his voice exuded genuine excitement revealed the depth of his love for his job. In that moment, you realized that this wasn't merely a profession to him; it was a true calling, a relentless pursuit of excellence that fueled his spirit.
"I still don’t understand. Maybe being there and watching it firsthand can help me. What do you think?" you playfully suggest, winking at Charles as you extend your legs onto his lap. He responds by grabbing your leg with his left hand and dramatically clutching his heart with his right, feigning a heart attack. "Oh, amour, the thought of you in red."
As your connection deepened, you both began to open up and share parts of yourselves that were usually kept hidden. You spoke honestly about your doubts, worries, and the overwhelming thoughts that haunted you when you were alone.
"Can I ask you something?" you inquire, looking up at him.
"Go ahead," he replies, grabbing a chip and taking a bite.
"Have you read about me? Like on the internet, in articles or magazines?"
"I see the headlines, but I don’t really read them, so let's just go with a 'no,'" he says, wiping the salt and dust from his hands. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I’m sure I already know your answer, but doesn't it bother you sometimes, the things they write about you?" you question, and he nods, encouraging you to continue. "It's just that they always make comments about my personal life, especially with the people I choose to be with."
"Yeah, well, those people's lives are so miserable that they have nothing better to do than try to ruin ours," he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and you find yourself laughing.
You glance down at your lap, your hands fidgeting as you gather your thoughts, when Charles interrupts, taking your hand. "Hey, I know it sucks, but I think it's something that comes with success. It bothers me too when they do that to me. Look, I won't pretend to fully understand what you're going through because I know I don't."
You look up at him, puzzled. "Do you remember earlier at the party when you arrived before me? When your car pulled up at the restaurant, they went crazy. Now, I've been in front of cameras since I was a kid, and I know a thing or two about paparazzi, but I've never seen fame like yours before. They were taking so many pictures of you that it didn't even look like flashes anymore, it’s like someone had switched on a blinding light for those few seconds you walked from your car to the door."
"I couldn't really see you because of the crowd, but when I heard them shouting your name, it just made sense. Don't tell the engaged couple, but I'm 100% sure you were the best thing at the party. " he winks at you. "But still, that doesn't make it okay. The reason they act like that is because they are taking advantage of your popularity. They think that getting a good picture of you, or a story, out of you or even something they made up, is big money.”
You’ve thought of this before, the way they treat you is different from other celebrities, but you hesitated to bring them up, fearing it would make you appear arrogant. It was a nice change to discuss about your life, popularity and the challenges that come with it, and to be met with Charles' honest and genuine response. You look back at the times you talked about this with a partner, and how they dismissed your concerns, labeling you as ungrateful, overreacting, or even a drama queen. The contrast in reactions causes you to appreciate Charles' maturity, understanding and support.
Despite your seemingly different lives, his centered around sports, yours with music, your personalities and passion for your respective crafts and families made you remarkably similar. With every word exchanged, the infatuation between you grew stronger.
So, at 4 am, while leaning against the balcony of your hotel room, a comfortable silence settled between you.
“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never experienced this before.” Charles says softly. “Staying up at this hour and talking about my life and the shit I go through to a girl I’ve only met for 8 hours now. It makes me feel like I want to tell you my whole life. It feels…” He trails off, a loss for words.
“I get what you mean. I never thought we would have a lot in common, especially since from the outside, it looks like we’re living different lives. But it looks like we're not so different after all.”
“Y/N, I know it’s too soon because we’ve only just met but I really want to get to know you better.” He faces you and draws himself closer. His green eyes pierce your Y/E/C eyes, he smiles genuinely at you.
As you gaze at him, your heartbeat quickens. You can’t tell if this is real life because you’re experiencing emotions you’ve never felt before. Here stands a guy who is caring, grounded, and by the way, absolutely gorgeous, and he is genuinely interested in getting to know you. Your thoughts waver back and forth, questioning whether this is okay. Is it cool that I’ve shared everything in my mind with him? Is it chill that he’s in my head?
Your mind and heart go into battle. Think! After all, you've only known this person for eight hours! Eight hours, Y/N! On the other hand, what if this is actually okay? Could this be the story of you meeting "the one"? Or your soulmate?
You tried to find a compromise.
Blushing, you gazed up at him and agreed, “I feel the same way. But can we take it slow? I never like to rush things, especially relationships.”
He nods and hugs you from behind. “Is this alright?”
You hummed and you both stayed there, watching the stars and the beautiful view of Florence.
You didn’t want the night to end, and you couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him right now. So you tried to make up excuses for him to stay. “But, you know, it’s too dangerous to drive at this hour.”
“Cheri, there is no such as thing as a time that is too dangerous to drive.” He chuckles at your cuteness. “Plus, I’m a Formula One driver, I think I can handle myself.”
“No, you can’t because we just finished doing shots like three hours ago! And what if other drunk people are driving around too?”
Charles lightly laughs at your stubbornness. He knows you’re too prideful to just tell him to stay the night, especially after you both agreed to keep things slow. He sees you avoiding his gaze, so he addresses you, “Y/N.”
As you looked up, he smiled at you and gently holds your chin and locking eyes. "Je suis folle de toi.” he uttered.
Confused, you smiled in anticipation, knowing he had likely said something sweet. Seconds later, he translated himself, the proximity between your faces nearly undoing you. "I am crazy about you.”
...
Carefully locating your phone, you closed the bedroom door behind you. Retrieving two water bottles from the mini fridge in the kitchen, you settled on the couch in the living room of your hotel suite, resting your legs on the coffee table.
You check your messages and there were some from Kika, and your management team. Kika texted you and said to meet her for brunch at 11. Though, with a Monegasque driver in your bed, you don’t know when you can leave, so you move on to the other conversations, keeping in mind that you reply to her soon.
Your management team’s group chats were asking where you are and who you were hanging with. You read their earlier messages and saw that there are articles and pictures of you and Charles leaving the party last night. You open your Twitter account and see the two of you are trending. Of course, we are.
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You scrolled through the tweets and some fans were happy, some were not, some just... don't have any opinion. And you prefer the latter. Reading the tweets of the fans was one thing, but the way the media and articles talked about you was different. It's like they didn't have respect you.
The articles get to you, Why is there so much scrutiny around my dating life? They called you a serial dater, manipulator, etc., even creating "warnings" about you for Charles; saying you're just gonna break his heart and write a song about him.
You furrow your brow, wondering why they single you out like this and why other women aren't subjected to the same level of scrutiny. It's frustrating because they never say these things about other people, especially men in the industry who engage in similar dating behaviors. Your male friends in the industry can date different people or even cheat and sing about it without raising any eyebrows. But when it comes to you, the accusations fly.
When they accuse you of "jumping" from one relationship to another, they label you a player or claim you cheated. If you choose to casually date without exclusivity, they call you a slut. It never ends. Where do they expect me to stand? When will it all just stop?
You start to question whether the people you want to be with have seen what has been written about you and if your reputation, which may be based on something fake, can affect the real connections you might make. You begin to ponder the significance of it all and how much weight a reputation actually carries.
It's unfair. Your personal life should be yours alone, and people should mind their own business. If this is the price you pay for sharing your music and being famous, you want no part of it anymore. It feels like they don't respect you as a human being.
Hot tears stream down your face as your thoughts consume you, overwhelming you completely. Seeking solace, you sink from the couch to the floor, resting your chin on your knees. It's a familiar position, offering some comfort when you're feeling low. The grounding sensation reminds you that you're still here.
Unbeknownst to you, Charles already woke up and was also reading messages from his team. He was about to greet you when he heard you sniffling. He slowly opens the door and sees you on the ground, knees to your chest, crying. Suddenly, he understands the pain you're going through. He felt awkward. He didn't know whether to comfort you or pretend to go back to bed.
But Charles can't resist the sight of your shattered state. He pushes the door open fully and gazes at you, broken and vulnerable. His heart shatters alongside yours. Slowly, he approaches and sits in front of you, taking in the magnitude of your pain. You're startled, having forgotten he was sleeping in the other room. You wonder if he knows what you're crying about, if he's seen the internet already, but the thought pushed back behind your head when a pair of warm, gentle hands cups your face, thumbs trying to wipe away your tears.
"What's wrong, mon ange?" he asks softly.
"Everything. The things they say about me... they're so mean. They're ruining my name, my reputation..." You manage to utter between sobs.
"Shh.. I know, cheri. But I don't care about what they write, alright? I want to know you. The real you." He comforts you. Running his hand up and down your arm as you find solace in his comforting embrace.
For the next ten minutes, you pour your heart out to him, releasing your pent-up emotions. When Charles senses that you had calmed down, he fetches the water bottle from the table and hands it to you. You finish it in one go.
"Feeling a little better now?" He offers, his considerate nature shining through. You smile and nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness.
"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asks, showing his concern for your well-being. You shake your head for a no.
“Do you feel like going downstairs, or should we order room service?" Going for a walk would be refreshing, and it might help improve your mood, but given that you've just bared your soul to him, you don't feel like going out. More importantly, you remember that you'll encounter numerous people and potentially face unwanted attention when you're seen again with Charles.
"We? You don't have to stay here with me. I feel better already." You face him, pulling away from his embrace. You instantly regret it as you start to feel cold already, missing the warmth of his body against yours.
"And I'm not leaving until you feel your best again. So, restaurant or room service?" He asks again. God, he is even more hot when he's stern... and caring about my well-being, of course.
Considering your current state, you prefer the comfort of staying within the confined space of your room, cuddled up next to him. "Room service, please."
↠ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬
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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months
Text
Twists and Turns (Astarion x F!Reader)
Synopsis: Astarion initially rejected you and you turn your attentions elsewhere- to his surprise.
By the time Astarion realizes his feelings for you- it’s too late. You and Gale are happy together and Astarion would never ruin that for you, but sometimes fate surprises us. Especially Astarion- who never thought he’d see Gale as a hero.
CW: Character death, angsty?, fluffy, crotch goblins (children)
Pairings: Gale Dekarios x F! reader and Astarion Acunin x F! reader- also some dadstarian
✨lightly edited✨
Author note: I was inspired by @thedomesticanthropologist post regarding an unconventionally attractive Tav. I didn’t really touch on it too much, but it is apart of the story to an extent. Please be kind because my writer’s anxiety has been so bad I almost deleted my blog entirely 🫣
Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜
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Photo belongs to @venenum-cadaverinus on Tumblr
By the time Astarion had fallen in love with you- it had already been too late.
Oh he flirted with you, called you beautiful when he believed you weren’t much to look at, and then you had come up to ask if he would want to go look at stars with you the night of the Tiefling party. Astarion couldn’t get himself to even pretend he wanted to indulge in you. He assumed you were only wanting to sleep with him and he was not about to sleep with you just because you asked. Astarion no longer has to do anything anyone asks of him.
“I have standards.”
Your face falls and the book of Astronomy in your hand nearly slips.
“Oh- I,” you clear your throat, “I’m sorry to have bothered you then.”
He had rolled his eyes when he came back from being with whatever Tiefling woman he had approached- you had been crying quietly in your tent.
Astarion found the whole thing unattractive and well, really he found you unattractive. Astarion has a preference for traditionally beautiful people and you would never be that. You would surely get over it eventually and if he’s lucky, you’ll just be an annoying kicked puppy who will do anything for him like you have been since he met you.
So, for whatever reason, Astarion assumed everything would go back to normal the next day and the two of you would fall back into the usual routine- he sits and reads while you eat breakfast in the mornings, he talks about whatever book he is reading, you ask him questions about himself, and then you go about your days separately until going through the same motions for dinner. Astarion fights next to you and you protect each other. You are smitten with Astarion and he has you wrapped around his pinkie finger like he wanted.
So imagine his surprise when you don’t come out for breakfast or dinner at all- at least not to sit with him. All of a sudden, Gale is with you all the time. He had seen the man come up to you while you were holding your book and he hugged you- the wizard even glared at Astarion while he was doing it.
Astarion upped his game after that, but nothing he said ever reached you anymore. He’d call you beautiful and he’d watch you visibly flinch. He asked you to go to bed with him and you told him no- you wanted to be with someone who thought you were special and beautiful. Astarion said he does think that. You got angry with him and told him to stop lying- go back to “having standards”. Your anger stung and he knew it was justified, but the little pieces of your trust he could get eventually blossomed into a friendship. Only, now he wanted more and Astarion was entirely infatuated with you.
He had decided to tell you how he felt one night before the descent into the Shadow Cursed Lands, but you were quickly swept away by Gale the moment Astarion tried to come talk to you.
Gale was dragging you off somewhere very specific and when Astarion let his nosiness get the best of him- it dawned on him that he had truly lost you 2 months ago when he had said what he said.
You peer through a telescope excitedly, telling Gale about all your favorite constellations and why. He shares his own knowledge with you and you are wide eyed, fascinated- leaning in to hear more. Gale’s own lips hover over yours and the two of you are smiling at each other widely. Astarion thinks he’s going to throw up when Gale kisses you- not because he’s disgusted, but because it occurred to him that he might have thrown away the only person who actually gave a shit about Astarion enough to love him and he broke your heart. Fitting that he is the one hurting now.
Maybe that’s really all you had wanted- to share something you love with Astarion. You wanted to feel like he gave a shit about you too and he said, “I have standards”!? What in the hells is wrong with him!?
The part of him- the less prideful part- wishes he had gotten to see you this way for him. Why did he spend so much time focusing on you knowing him? Why didn’t he take the time to see you this way? Know you this way when you wanted him.
Gale said something that made you laugh heartily as he brushed stray hair from your face, his hands gripping your hips, and you gasped when he kissed you again. The sound fills Astarion with warmth, but makes him feel sick at the same time. That should be him with you, not Gale.
You went from being plain, unattractive and uninteresting to the single most beautiful individual he has ever met. Astarion found himself hanging onto your words (even the angry ones) and yearning to be next to you.
You continued to do your dance with Gale while Astarion continued his own dance with you. When you threaten that horrible Drow on his behalf, Astarion has to accept it- he has well and truly fallen for you.
Astarion decided he would tell you when you got back from whatever excursion you were on with Gale. He had to at least try. Besides, what could Gale possibly show you in the Shadow Cursed Lands?
Only it had been too late- neither one of you came back for hours and when you did, the two of yours’ scents were mingled so closely together he could barely distinguish you from Gale. You began sleeping in the man’s tent, holding his hand during meals, exchanging kisses, etc.
Astarion, on the other hand, had taken the unofficial title of ‘best friend’. It had stung quite a bit, but he happily took whatever scraps you could give him. It was hardly scraps though- Astarion feels emotionally cared for, protected, and respected by you at all times. Besides, Astarion has a feeling that, if anything happened between you and Gale, there was a very good chance for Astarion to take over that space in your heart again.
The love test at the circus proved it- you had been more compatible with Astarion than Gale. Thankfully you had gone at separate times (Astarion and Gale have since become friendly enough so Astarion doesn’t have to worry about losing you). You had avoided Astarion’s eyes while Gale boasted about the Love Test results.
You had been the first one to wake up and attack his siblings when they had tried to kidnap him. Astarion had never seen you look that angry before in the entire time he has met you- you were even angrier than when Araj had pestered him.
You admitted to Astarion later that day that you hadn’t been sleeping well- you were worried about Cazador or his siblings showing up and that you wouldn’t get there in time. It had been haunting you since the minute you stepped foot in Rivington.
When he finally did face Cazador, it was with you at his side and when he finally killed the man- you didn’t deny Astarion the hug he begged you for telepathically. You held him up as he sank against you and you said soothing words- you told him how proud of him you were. You still reminded him everyday after when he expressed doubt.
Astarion was certain he would watch you grow old with Gale and have a family. So Astarion promised himself that he will love you dutifully regardless and protect you and your family like you have protected him. When you pass? He isn’t sure what he will do then, but he has eternity to be without you and Gods only knows long to be around you.
Until the Wizard of Waterdeep just had to throw him a curve ball the night before the battle against the Netherbrain.
Astarion was sitting by the roaring fireplace as he tried not to make it obvious to Gale that he’s silently pining for you. You were laughing and telling jokes with Karlach and Wyll- Shadowheart joining in and eventually Lae’zel. Your laughter is probably one of Astarion’s favorite sounds.
Only because he doesn’t know what you sound like moaning underneath him.
“You love her.”
Astarion’s train of thought broke and he gawked at the Wizard.
“I-um,” Astarion cleared his throat, “I’m afraid you have the wrong impression. Obviously I’m looking at…”
Actually now that he’s looked over there, none of them were believable enough for him to get out of this one.
“Yes- yes fine. I love her,” Astarion scowls, “you won, I love her and get to watch you live a whole life with her. Congratulations.”
“Astarion- I didn’t say that because I want to rub it in your face. I’m saying it because I have a favor to ask- for Tav’s sake.”
Astarion felt himself freeze. He was silently praying that Gale wasn’t going to tell him to stay away from you- to walk away and never come back after the events of tomorrow. It would be the thing that kills Astarion.
“Okay,” he says wearily, “I’m listening.”
“We all know it’s possible that some of us won’t be leaving this journey alive tomorrow.”
Is he suggesting you might die tomorrow? Astarion still stays right next to you during fights- no one even gets within an inch of you if he can help it.
“If it comes down to it and I need to use my orb,” Gale says solemnly, “I need you to take Tav and run- I don’t care if you need to drag her, cast sleep on her, anything as long as it’s painless.”
Astarion stared at the man blankly. He’s asking Astarion to drag you away as you watch your boyfriend sacrifice himself for the sake of the greater good of humanity.
“Why- why are you asking me? And not Karlach or-“
“Because I know you won’t tell her that I’m considering it as an option,” Gale said before adding, “and I am very aware that she loves you too. She’s going to need you if I die.”
“Need me?,” Astarion laughs in disbelief, “Gale, I broke her heart and I’m about to lose the only way I can walk in the sun tomorrow. It would be stupid of her to-“
“No, it would not,” Gale frowns, “she loves you, Astarion. Stop pushing her away.”
“You aren’t dead yet, Wizard,” Astarion said with an edge to his tone, “there is still a possibility that there is a Dekarios wedding in the foreseeable future.”
Gale smiled sadly at Astarion.
“That is the hope- is it not?” Gale got up to join you and the others, “you’ll remember that you deserve to be loved for her- won’t you?”
Astarion watched the man walk off like he hadn’t just dropped a massive bomb onto Astarion’s world. He watched as you smiled brightly at Gale and your hands intertwined with his.
But he also caught you looking over at him with a welcoming, pleading smile. Astarion smiles back and joins- hoping that he won’t be part of the reason that smile fades ever again.
*******************************
Gale looks at Astarion- they are losing. Tav is hurt, but still trying to sling spells and cantrips. Karlach and Wyll are becoming cornered quickly, Shadowheart and Lae’zel too. Even with all of the support they brought and it still wasn’t enough.
You bastard, Astarion telepathically says to Gale, you really are going to make me the bad guy, huh?
Ha!, Gale thinks sadly, you have it turned around. It has been a privilege to know you, Astarion. Take care of Tav for me.
Same to you, Gale- I promise she’ll be safe.
Gale announces to everyone they need to leave. You run towards Gale screaming for him to stop- that he doesn’t have to do this, but Astarion intercepts you.
“ASTARION- PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW,” you scream while slamming your fists into his back, struggling to make him release you, “PUT ME- GALE PLEASE- I LOVE YOU!”
Gale smiles at you with all the love in the world.
“I love you too, Tav. Always and forever.”
Gale casts a spell and like that- they are on the docks. You are screaming and throwing magic- desperate to get back to Gale as Astarion holds you close to his chest.
“I hate you!” You scream as you push Astarion weakly, “ I… I-“
You look at him pitifully and Astarion’s heart aches with yours. Astarion pulls you back towards him in a tight hug and holds you. You sob into his chest and hold him back with equal ferocity.
Astarion’s ability to comfort you only lasts about five minutes before the sun begins to burn him again and Karlach is dying- Wyll convinces her to go to Avernus with him. Astarion races to the shadows- certain that he is about to go into the darkness alone as he hides behind the crates.
He cradles his burning hand to his chest and hisses through the pain. Astarion doesn’t register the frantic footsteps approaching him.
“ASTARI- oh my Gods.”
He looks up at you in disbelief as you get down to your knees next to him and begin pulling out healing scrolls, potions, anything you can think of that might help.
You stay next to him until it’s time to move to a different set of shadows and you stay with him every moment afterwards.
You spend the next 6 months together starting your search for a Ring of the Sunwalker in the Underdark- successfully assassinating a very powerful Drow Priestess for it right before Wither’s party.
When you head back to Baldur’s gate together- Astarion sells all of Cazador’s shit and his castle. He invites you to live with him and you pick a house together.
Your emotions have been foreign and not easy for Astarion to handle over the last 6 months and even a year after moving in together, but he thinks about how crazy he would feel if you had also died that day and so he has weathered every storm you throw at him.
Astarion sits as you angrily rant about how unfair it was for him to make that decision without you. You wanted a choice, some kind of say, and you even occasionally just screamed at Astarion for preventing you from staying with him.
This continues even after the party that Wither’s throws. Tara adored you just as Gale had predicted and his holograph healed a piece of you, but now your grief is all consuming. You lay in bed for days on end and you stop eating or even coming out of your room. Scratch lays next to you dutifully until Astarion takes him out to use the restroom. They have to disguise the poor dog as a cat, but he doesn’t seem to mind very much.
Astarion lets you sit and do what you need to do, but after day 10, he finally needs to help you feel like a person again- in whatever way he can. So he runs you a bath and he helps you numbly walk towards it. It’s been about 30 minutes since he left you upstairs. He considered offering to help you, but he wasn’t sure if that would be crossing a line.
You walk downstairs moments later and quietly say his name. Astarion looks up at you and smiles- you took a bath.
“Well, well, look at you,” Astarion teases, “you sure clean up nicely.”
You laughed hoarsely at his joke and sat next to him. Astarion doesn’t move- he wants to pull you into his lap, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.
“Can- would you-,” you choke on the lump in your throat, “would you hold me, please?”
Astarion’s face softens as you begin to sniffle and your shoulder begins to shake with the sobs you are trying to hold back.
“Of course, Darling.”
You crawl into his lap and you lean the side of your head against his unbeating heart. Astarion just goes back to reading his book, enjoying the comfortable silence and how your body finally seems to have relaxed. You’d been so tense for the last two years- constantly on the verge of breaking in half, but he knows how resilient you are. He knows your strength and he knew you would get out of it eventually- even if only for a little while at a time.
“What are you reading?”
Your voice sings through the air and is like music to his ears. You sound like you again- tired and still a little melancholy- but you nonetheless.
“Well, Darling, I thought it might be worth learning about some of this astronomy nonsense a little over a year ago so we could talk about it when you felt better,” Astarion says, trying to say it as nonchalantly as possible, “I’ve come to really enjoy the topic.”
You beam at him and it’s the first time he’s seen a smile reach your eyes in what feels like eons. You quiz him, correct him, you tell him everything over the ‘stars’ and then some as you so horribly said. Astarion can’t help but find the moment to be so bittersweet.
He finally had the moment he wanted with you, but he didn’t think a single moment would cost a life.
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“Elanora! Gale! Get back here you little-“
The twins giggle as they run from Astarion around the house. He understands what people mean by terrible twos now.
It’s been a little over 10 years since Gale died. In that time- Karlach had her engine fixed and five years ago, you found a Wish scroll for Astarion. Being a living breathing human again was a very difficult adjustment for the first two years. It’s been 3 years now and it’s not as difficult, but he did forget about the whole pregnancy thing.
It had been a massive shock when you fell pregnant a few months after you and Astarion had gotten married a little over two years ago. Astarion had been so focused on the proposal being perfect that it took longer for him to ask than he wanted.
You giving birth was probably the most terrifying experience of his life and you very well almost died, but by some miracle, you lived through the gruesome endeavor. He gives his thanks to Shadowheart, Isobel, and Dame Aylin. Astarion suspects Gale might have had a hand in it too because you had been out cold, but woke up with tears in your eyes and told Astarion that A. Gale says hello and B. how dare he think you’d just abandon two children with him like that. You are responsible “dammit!”
Astarion is so grateful you didn’t die giving birth to his children. He loves the little crotch goblins to death, but you are the only one they really listen to. You always tell him it’s because he gives in- Astarion argues “how could I not!? Have you seen them!? They are adorable!”
Scratch tried to help him initially after you left to go spend time with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel at Elfsong Tavern. The poor dog didn’t last much longer than Astarion- hiding under the bed from the monstrous toddlers that are definitely from his gene pool.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind saying n-“
“They are my children, Darling,” he said all too confidently, “I can handle time alone with my children!”
Evidently there is a difference between handling and surviving- Astarion would consider himself trying to survive. He should have taken Halsin’s offer to hang out- maybe the twins would listen to their Uncle more than him.
Astarion eventually caught them, bathed them, read them a book, and got them to bed. The minute Gale fell asleep around 11:30 pm was the same time you came home.
Astarion came down the stairs and you began to laugh as quietly as you could behind your hand. He leers at you playfully.
“Did you have fun, my Star?” You tease.
“Once I finally caught them- yes,” he says flatly.
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his torso.
“Let’s go to bed- then you can tell me all about it and I’ll tell you all the hot gossip Karlach has heard from Wyll about the upper class in Baldur’s Gate.”
“Will it be in the paper tomorrow?”
“Oh yes,” you grin widely, “ oh yes it will.”
Astarion loves when you come back from meeting with Karlach- he always knows what’s happening before it even happens. It means he gets to watch everyone else be scandalized which is usually 1,000 times more entertaining than the gossip itself. One time- the paper had been so explicit that the next door neighbor (an elderly woman) quite literally died of shock after reading about an affair the Magistrate had with the Duke. Apparently she was a hard core supporter of the wives and never anticipated such ugly men to cheat on their wives (you may have found him using a talk to the undead spell on the poor woman).
You fall asleep faster than you anticipated- at least that’s what Astarion thinks. The moment you lay your head on his chest is the same moment you slowly, softly begin to snore as he tells you about the evening. You chuckle when he says he is going to need help cleaning up the water in the bathroom tomorrow.
These are the nights that Astarion finds himself looking up to the heavens and smiling sadly- thanking Gale for his sacrifice, for giving Astarion a life he never thought he would ever have.
Most importantly, he thanks Gale for you. For letting go of what future he could have had with you. For not asking you to stay and die with him.
Gale Dekarios is the only reason Astarion Acunin believes in heroes at all.
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konigenblobbity · 9 months
Note
your angst is so UGHHHHH AMAZING. im literally reading every single thing on your masterlist. i need more hobie hurt/comfort or miguel or anyone actually idc who it is i just love your writingggg. maybe like they’ve had a bad day and reader tries to help but instead they get annoyed and say sum ab then being annoying n never shutting up and reader gets quiet after and stuff. although i’ll literally read anything you put out thank you!!!
Request: Out of Line [Hobie]
Hobie x GN!Reader
—> [Miguel’s Version]
Warnings: Angst, yelling, insults, sad reader, comforting, crying, cursing
A/n: Such kind praise anon literally tysm. I love writing angst, it’s just fun to make characters suffer :) but yes! This idea is so good. I also made one for Miguel. enjoy meine Lieben!
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You were sat next to Hobie on the couch, an arm wrapped around his shoulder while the other sat on his thigh. Your gaze sympathetic and kind as you looked at your boyfriend, body slumped over from exhaustion and disappointment. His elbows were resting on his knees, head resting on his hands as he was lost in his thoughts, still frustrated from todays mission.
Once he entered and slammed the door, you know the mission went wrong. He had been unexpectedly pulled away that afternoon when Miguel said it was an emergency. Hobie left with a smile and kiss goodbye… only to return with a grimace and a set of gritted teeth.
The only thing he told you was that he was responsible for losing sight of the anomaly and Miguel gave him an earful for it.
So there you were, comforting and reassuring your boyfriend with your words, throwing praises onto him like a crazed fan girl. “You are absolutely phenomenal Hobie. Don’t ever question that. No matter how much Miguel scolds you or criticizes you, you are an amazing part of the team that Miguel is lucky to have” you wouldn’t stop.
In your mind you saw that as a good thing… that Hobie would appreciate how you showered him with affection, but truly it was getting on his nerves. Wishing he could’ve just come home and forgotten all about Miguel and the mission, but no… now he had to hear about it at home too.
“You’re an amazing spider-man, one of the best that spider society has! Remember when you took care of that prowler anomaly single handedly? Or that green goblin anomaly from last week? Miguel didn’t seem to thank you for that if I remember! Now he suddenly decides to get up in your business?!” With each word you were giving him a soft caress on his shoulder or gently shaking his thigh.
His shoulder tensed under your hand, you thought it was because of an injury but if you only knew what really had him so irritated. His eyes were clenching shut, trying to fight the part of him that calls your voice annoying and yells at him to tell you to shut up… because he knows you’re trying, and usually he loves it! Oftentimes the only thing that helps is when your voice rambles on and envelops him like a warm embrace.
“Im gonna say it! Miguel should just keep his mouth shut I think! He-“ you were ready to say another whole soliloquy before Hobie’s voice cut through your own “No you should! I swear all you do is ramble and it drives me up the fucking wall. So just shut it!” His tone was laced with venom, every word a jab to your heart.
His head was turned to look at you with unforgiving eyes, burning with an unbridled rage that you knew wasn’t aimed at you… but it still felt personal. He lets out a light chuckle and when he smiles maliciously it, had your skin crawling. “After todays mission I want some peace and quiet. The sound of your voice is doing my head in. So do me a favor and take your own advice.”
You slowly pull away your hands, noticing how his body relaxes slightly when you do, which only made you more upset. “O-oh… okay” your voice was soft, but clearly shaken. After that you sit in silence for a few minutes, the only audible sound being Hobie sighing every once in a while.
Every second of silence is another second of you pondering and recounting what Hobie said to you. Playing it over in your head until you felt your eyes begin to gloss over. You take that as your sign to leave, clearing your throat and mumbling out a soft “i-I’ll see you upstairs” before leaving without another word.
Hobie stayed downstairs for a bit longer, organizing his thoughts and using the silence to quell his irritation. He then had the opportunity to think back on what he said to you. Cursing into his palm when he realizes just how harsh he got with you.
This wasn’t the first time… he often got harsh and lost his filter when he was in a bad mood; you always understood that. Whenever he’d go off on you, you never took it personally, understanding that he was in a bad mood or a poor state.
He’d always come up to you later and apologize for what he said, and he was lucky because you always understood and forgave him. Afterwards he’d cuddle up with you, telling you all about the terrible day he had or how horrible his mission went. You were always there to comfort him, listening to every word.
This time was different though. He didn’t just make an offhanded comment about how he wanted silence or how you weren’t helping, he made it personal by insulting your voice, a part of yourself that he usually loved and was now suddenly deeming as headache inducing.
When Hobie eventually went upstairs, he found you sitting in bed, back against the headboard, looking at your phone, not even sparing him a glance. He walked over and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, placing a hand on your thigh. You didn’t react so he took the time to apologize.
“Hey love… look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. Todays mission just left me absolutely gutted and I just felt right shit. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It was just really rough and I fucked up bad” his hand absentmindedly caresses your thigh as he spoke. You didn’t move and just let out a hum in response.
He paused and hesitated before speaking “I-I’m really sorry…. I didn’t mean it love. You know that right?” he leans forward and goes to kiss your lips, you turn your head so kiss lands on your cheek instead. He was slightly surprised but more disappointed. He decided not to press the topic though. “alright… I’m gonna go get ready and I’ll be back” he says and walks off to the bathroom.
When he comes back out, you’d shifted to be lying on your side, back to him, as if you’re ready to go to sleep. As he gets into the bed behind you, he notices how your eyes are still open and you were just looking at your phone.
He leans over your figure “Love? A-are we not gonna cuddle?” his voice was soft, you could hear the slight pout in his voice. To his question you shake your head, he moved onto his side of the bed and positioned himself to sit against the headboard.
“Oh… can I tell you about my mission though?” you could hear the dejection in his tone but managed to brush it off. You shrug causing Hobie to hesitate, but after a pause he begins to tell you about the mission, going on and on, but never once do you react.
“And then, that prick just threw a sign at me! A goddamn sign, can you believe that?” He looked over at your figure waiting for a response, waiting for you to agree with him or encourage him to continue talking as you usually did, but you still don’t say a word.
He clears his throat at the silence “b-but it really hurt and my shoulders still sore because of it” he continued to complain hoping you’d break your vow of silence but he still got nothing. He can see you’re still awake which causes him to huff out in disappointment, a pout forming on his lips. He shifts on the bed and placed his chin to rest on your arm.
“Love? Why’d you go so quiet?” He watched your expression, it didn’t shift and you just continued to scroll through your phone. There was a pause and then he spoke again. “Was it because of what I said earlier?” You stop scrolling on your phone and he takes that as a sign that he guessed right.
“God… love I didn’t know it hurt you that bad. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said it and I didn’t mean it. Not even the slightest bit” he wraps his arm around your waist trying to pull you back against his chest. Much to his relief you didn’t struggle or try to move away, allowing him to pull you against his chest.
“I love the sound of your voice, I look forward to hearing it after every mission. I was just really irritated and I snapped at you for no reason” you put your phone down but still don’t look or speak to him. He let out a soft sigh and the hand on your waist began to trace soft circles on your skin.
“I’ll keep apologizing as long as it takes for you to speak again. I miss your voice love. Please… even if it’s quiet? I wanna hear it” he placed a kiss on your shoulder, and kept it nuzzled against your arm as he waited patiently.
“You said it drives you up the wall…” a smile graced his lips as you finally spoke, it was a soft murmur but it was something. He places another kiss on your shoulder “Thats not true, I was being stupid. You have every right to be upset with me, it was a daft thing to say and I was being a proper prick” you hum softly in agreement, which he took as a sign of encouragement.
He continued to place kisses on your arm and shoulder “You agree don’t you? Hm?” He says and you shrug, a small smile beginning to appear on your lips. His arm wraps further around your waist, beginning to roll you onto your back as his playful kisses moved to your neck. “Cmon you can say it, I was being stupid, I was being a prick… go on” he had a smirk on his face as he kissed at your jaw.
You chuckle softly and then look into his eyes, a smile now settled on your lips. “You really were. The biggest prick I’ve ever met” you say and he pulls away and gives you a fake pout. “Ouch… now that hurts” you roll your eyes and he chuckles softly. He leans back down and begins to pepper kisses all over you face.
“I’m really sorry love” he says and pulls away to look at you with a gentle smile. You sigh out but smile at him. “I believe you” You shift slightly so you’re sitting back against the headboard “but what I can’t believe…” you begin to say and Hobie looks at you curiously.
“Is that that goddamn anomaly threw a sign at you?!” You say exaggerating your shock but loving the smile that it puts on Hobie’s face. “I know!” He say and moves to rest his head against your lap. Letting go of your waist and intertwining his hand with yours to wrap them around his shoulders.
For the rest of that night he recounted his mission to you, every small detail and every tiny slip up, but this time you actually reacted. And every time you spoke his heart sang at the sound of your voice.
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unluckiestmember · 11 months
Note
headcanons for dating The Spot / Jonathan Ohnn? He’s so dumb i can’t help but love him <3
Coming right up!
Jonathan Ohnn/The Spot X Reader Headcanons
Characters: Jonathan Ohnn/The Spot
Tags: Tooth rotting fluff, Ohnn being Ohnn, established relationship, reassurance, quality time, gift giving, quips/jokes, slight spoilers and cute moments.
Warning: None, just a small suggestive line. But all in all SFW.
A/N: I would date The Spot honestly! He seems like a big sweetie that just had bad luck.
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Before the Collider
Ohnn isn’t a super mushy/romantic person, but he cares for you so much.
JOKES. LOTS OF THEM.
If there’s one thing he lives for outside of you it’s your laughter.
Whether he does it intentionally or unintentionally, he’d kill to hear that pretty little voice.
His main love languages are quality time and gift giving.
Whenever you two are inching closer to an anniversary, he will give you so many gifts days leading to it.
And on the day of, he goes all out!
Intimate time in bed is nice, but if he had to choose between that and watching a movie, he’s taking that movie.
Some days all you two do is just watch some films inside while snuggled under a blanket together.
Or he would suggest you two play a board game or two.
Whether you like it or not, you play them for two reasons; When he is playing, he’s so cute thinking of his next move.
Aaaaand he’s so hilarious when he’s winning or losing, exaggerating both.
Big fan of random facts, so don’t expect to fall asleep without hearing at least three fun facts a day.
The only time he doesn’t hang out with you is at work and he keeps you far away from it for your safety.
But he always promises he’ll come home and be yours afterwards.
You’re his precious jewel. And he will tell you every day.
After the Collider
When he became The Spot, you became his entire universe.
Everyone left him in his crisis to fend for himself… But you didn’t.
And he is forever grateful for that and for you.
It takes him a very long time to ease into touching you again.
He’s just scared that he’ll hurt you or throw you into another universe.
But after some practice, he can’t help but touch your cheeks and your face as much as he can.
Forget about being his jewel, you’re his angel sent from Heaven.
Even without a sustainable job, he tries his best to always give you a gift at the end of the day.
It can be a small trinket he found in the streets or during a stroll.
Or it can be something huge and harder for you both to hide.
Regardless, you are very appreciative of his actions.
Whenever he has a hard day being The Spot, he looks for you to be his shoulder to cry on.
He usually sees his spots as a disadvantage, but loves how you always tell him the pros of having them.
When he masters his powers, expect your dates to be a trip through the Spider-Verse.
He still loves to hear you laugh and will even try some quips on you just to hear you chuckle.
Whenever you smile and laugh now, it’s like he’s been sent to Heaven itself.
At first he was stealing things and being a criminal for his personal gain.
But now he’s doing it for both of you.
He does it all for you.
Never forget that.
Spider-Verse Requests are open!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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peroxiddeprincess · 1 year
Text
How The Call Of Duty : MWII Characters Would Act With a Bimbo Girlfriend (Fem!Reader)
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Characters included — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, König
No descriptive NSFW — Just headcannons / imagines. NSFW implied for some characters.
NOT PROOFREAD!!!
Bimbo definition (in case you arent aware) — an attractive but unintelligent or frivolous young woman.
✭ Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
— Oh my god, would he be absolutely infatuated with you.
— You didn’t even have to do anything but stand there and he’d have hearts in his eyes.
— Maybe it was the outfits you wore, or the makeup you caked on your face, but nonetheless, everything you did was just so appealing to him.
— He’d always compliment your outfits, and he’d always notice the little things.
“Did you get new lipstick?” “Is that skirt new?”
— He made sure to take note of the things you wore aswell. Why? So he could buy you new stuff of course.
— He likes to do your makeup sometimes. Even if it looks like shit, you’ll wear it for the rest of the day anyway to let him know your appreciation.
— Colored hair isnt his thing, but you convinced him once to get blue hair with you. No regrets. You told him it made him sexier. Simon told him you two looked alike. Johnny felt weird about the way he worded that and didn’t talk to Simon for a few days after..
— You are his Facebook banner. Facebook because he’s such a dad, and you’re his banner because he likes showing you off to the 3 friends he has added. Gaz, Rudy, and Alejandro.
— As for the.. Slow part of being a bimbo, he’d have no problems attempting to explain or break down something you didnt quite understand.
— He isn’t the kind of guy to get frustrated when you dont understand something immediately either. He’ll try his best.
— You aren’t completely dumb though. You’ve taught him many things! And one of the most important things,
You taught him to love himself.
Bonus:
“Wow, babe. I love that outfit on you.” He sneaks behind you, making you jump. “Awe — Thank you, JoJo!” You clapped your hands together, the biggest smile on your face.
“I could compliment you for hours.” He says. “Could stare for hours.”
You spit your bubblegum out in the trashcan near you. “Go ahead.” You say, making his cheeks heat up.
He goes on and on with some of the weirdest — but cutest — compliments you’ve ever heard in your life. You didn’t even realize you were going to be late to your nail appointment.
No worries, though. You continued to let him compliment you. When he finally finished his rant, you smile big again.
“I wasn’t listening to a thing you were saying.” You giggle nervously. “Gimme more!” You beg. “You gonna listen this time?” He asks, smiling. “Probably not.” You admit.
“Oh, well. Thats okay. I’ve got many, many more things to say to you, love.” He continues on and on, knowing your attention span is short, but he doesn’t mind, not one bit.
What matters to him right now is that you’re so close, and he feels secure in your touch.
✭ Simon “Ghost” Riley
— He never usually thinks much about your appearance unless he catches someone eyeing you.
— “Wear whatever you want, i can fight.” Energy.
— Hes just gotten used to how you dress and present yourself. It’s not that he doesnt care, but he doesnt mind it anymore. You used to capture his attention with every move. You still do, but not because of your appearance, but because hes taken a liking (meaning, he somewhat tolerates you.) to you.
— He isnt one to feed into your presentation. He doesnt buy you clothes, but he’ll sometimes express his attraction to a certain outfit you’ve thrown together.
— Also, he gets very frustrated when you don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you. He won’t break it down for you, and wont apologize if he makes you cry out of frustration or pure sensitivity from how mad he gets.
— He isnt a yeller, but he makes it obvious that he cant keep the conversation going. He’ll ignore you and simply walk away.
— Not to mention, he doesn’t apologize. He’s never wrong in his mind. You’re just sensitive and take his words the wrong way.
— But anyway, of course he cares about you. He has a horrible way of showing it. He wouldnt be able to “love” you properly due the narcissistic way his mind works, but even then, he still wants to protect you somewhat.
— Also, he wont go out of his way to let anyone know you two are dating, either. You’ll have to spill the beans. He’ll just nod, and most likely walk away to avoid questions.
Bonus:
“What is that?” You ask, pointing to the big gun in his hand. “..A gun? Are you stupid, or something?”
You pouted at the mean words. “I know its a gun, what kind of gun? Why is it so big?”
He doesnt say anything, choosing to ignore you as he walks away. “Simonnn.” You call. Silence. Other than the heavy footsteps from his boots.
You sit there on the couch, blinking back tears to avoid your fake lashes from falling off and your mascara running down your cheeks.
Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you, holding out a pamphlet. You’re confused. “What?” You ask, looking up at him. “It’s a book.” He says, stating the obvious. “..About guns. The big ones.” He cringes saying it, feeling like a complete loser at how he needs to speak to you for you to understand.
His awkwardness quickly fades as you enthusiastically take the book from him, flipping through the pages. He sits down next to you and watches you analyze the page you were on.
“Ooh! Tell me more about this one.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, but gives in with a heavy huff and starts pointing out parts of the gun, explaining what they do and what they’re called.
You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, his deep voice thick and sultry in your ears.
“…Could you repeat that?” You ask, and his eyebrow cocks up. “What part?”
“…All of it.” You say nervously, avoiding eye contact. He sighs and gives in, repeating everything he just told you.
You weren’t focused this time either, but you felt like this was quality time, so you pretended to understand what he was saying.
You thought you had convinced him, but he knew you weren’t paying attention. He didn’t care much anymore, continuing to talk, not wanting to admit that maybe he didnt mind having you this close to him. Even if having to repeat himself alot was getting annoying.
✭ Alejandro Vargas
— He would absolutely love your style. Would eat it up every single time.
— Would show you off. Loves how you two are complete opposites. He’d brag about you to anyone willing to listen.
— When you two got the chance to be alone, he’d hold your waist and feel your body through the thin fabric.
— He was always very expressive about how much he adores the way you pamper yourself. You always giggle and tell him its just for him. He smiles.
— Once he almost broke a bone trying on a pair of your platforms. Never again.
— You also managed to get fake lashes and lipstick on him. You took so many pictures. He was very embarrassed.
— He understands that you need time to learn things. He gets frustrated of course, but we cant blame him, he’s only human.
— He tries to make you feel like the most brilliant person on earth, even if sometimes it’s a bit.. hard.
— Once you asked him, “Why do you wear so much gear?” And he replied, “Well, it’s important.” And tried to explain it to you. You couldn’t quite grasp the fact that he needed it, and kept telling him he should show off his body because he was sexy. He took the compliment ans dropped the conversation, you were too cute to argue with.
— You guys do have your arguments of course. He’s more patient than you’d think, though. He’ll give you space.
— After that, you two are all over eachother again. He loves you. Even if you don’t quite understand his job. or many things, for that matter.
Bonus:
“I tried to cook you something,” You started, “But it didn’t end very well.”
He pinched his nose at the foul smell of something burning. “I cleaned it up..” You smile awkwardly. “..For the most part.”
“For the most part?” He questions, walking into the kitchen. It became obvious what you meant. The bottom of the skillet had thick, black burnt material all over it. You tried to scrub it off but gave up. There was also some splatter on the stove.
He smiles a bit, looking back at you. “You know what?” He asks, and you hum. “I’ll clean this up.. You go do whatever else you need to do, as long as it doesnt involve household chores.” You frowned. “But.. I wanna help!”
He tried to get you to go elsewhere, but you werent budging. He sighs, accepting his fate…
He ended up letting you help. But he was standing so close you could hear his breathing, and his heart pumping, guiding you through how to properly scrub a burnt pan. You were focused on his hands the whole time.
✭ Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra
— He was very open about his attraction to you and your style. Not often open to others, but open to you for sure.
— He often made jokes, which sometimes you’d end up taking too serious, and he’d have to comfort you and reassure you that he didn’t mean it.
— He knew he didn’t mean it, but sometimes, you just didn’t quite understand…
— He’s always boasting about how beautiful you look to him when he comes home to you, or when you send him a picture of yourself.
— It became habit to show him your makeup and outfit everyday, and he’d devour you completely with his eyes.
— Sometimes, if you forget, you’ll stay up until 4 a.m. perfecting your appearance just to show him.
— Usually he’s concerned you’re up so late, but your pretty face is worth it.
— Your face is his lock screen. And wallpaper.. And everything else he could put your face on…
— He gets questions about you all the time but brushes it off. Nobody needs to know about you but him, after all.
— Occasionally, if he’s feeling talkative, he’ll talk about you and sometimes even show you off.
— Alejandro overheard a phone call between you two, and was very confused when he had to repeat himself, just word his sentences differently.
— He loves you dearly and doesnt mind explaining things to you. He likes listening to you talk, and he likes your face when a light bulb moment goes off in your head. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
— Also, he’s a very attentive lover, and will make sure you’re safe and know what you’re doing. Definitely texts you every chance he gets when he knows you’re out.
Bonus:
He was driving, and Alejandro pointed out his lock screen as a notification came through.
“Who’s that?” He asks. Rudy hesitates. “..My girlfriend.”
Alejandro pretends to be stabbed in the chest. “My heart! For you have wounded me!”
Rudy chuckles nervously. Alejandro straightens up. “So.. Girlfriend, huh?” He asks. Rudy’s phone starts ringing.
Speak of the devil… He thinks. He picks up the phone, and your sweet voice comes through. “Hey babyyy!” He could tell you were smiling.
“What’s up?” He says, speaking quietly in the presence of Alejandro. “I sent you a picture of my new nails.. But i figured you were driving. Can you atleast look..?” He could tell your smile faded into a pout.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”
“Yay! Thank you! I love youu.” You say, before hanging up. He pulls up your messages, looking at the picture of your nails and sighing before typing, ‘Beautiful, just like you.’
“She’s got you wrapped around her finger, aye?”
Rudy quickly slams his phone down, looking through the windsheild.
“Sí”
✭ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
— You are definitely his type. He can’t imagine himself with anyone else.
— He likes to pick you up and twirl you around, mostly because of the skirts you wear. You’ve told him it makes you feel like a ballerina.
— He definitely feeds into your perfume collection. You bring home a big bag of perfumes and body sprays and make him smell them and pick out his favorites.
— He’s also the guy to jokingly tell you to get his tip color on your nails because he saw someone else say it and thought it was the funniest thing ever, but then is surprised when you actually do it.
— It started with a, “Hey baby, like my nails?” And you gracefully wiggling your fingers in his face. Of course he says yes, but when it finally processes what exactly it’s depicting, his eyes are wide. He’s giddy.
— It’s definitely taken him time to adjust to your humor. You find some of the dumbest things funny. He doesnt quite understand, but when you laugh, he laughs aswell. You’re adorable, how could he not?
— He’s definitely very supportive of you dying your hair crazy colors. Sometimes you get bored and wanna put some pink in there! If you wear wig installs, he will buy them for you. He’s actually quite good at installing them aswell. 40 youtube tutorials later…
— If you have piercings, he’s totally into that too! He even encourages you to get new ones.
— He doesnt mind your processing speed or lack of basic knowledge either. He finds it enticing that he has to help you out. Maybe he just likes the excuse to spend more time with you.
Bonus:
You two were watching TV on the couch together, he was stuffing popcorn in his face and you were very interested in the dramatic romance going on in the film.
Suddenly, a kissing scene comes on. His first instinct is to cover your eyes, and you start laughing. “What was that for?” You ask through your giggles.
He starts to laugh with you. “Instincts kicked in. My bad, my bad. Continue on.”
He shovels the popcorn in his mouth again and you cant stop laughing at how stupid but funny the interaction was.
“What’s funny?” He asks, grin on his face as the grease from the popcorn surrounds his lips. “You. You’re funny.” He rolls his eyes at your response.
“Just continue watching those two tongue eachother and leave me be.” He says, crunching resuming. You laugh again, and he laughs with you so hard that popcorn almost came out of his nose. You shove him away when he chokes a bit, still laughing. “Ew! Stop laughing, you’re gonna barf!” He pushes you back against the couch and starts tickling your sides.
You kick at him, thrashing a bit at the sensation. Your laughter only grew. “Stop it, now i’m gonna barf!” You giggle.
“Didn’t wanna barf alone.” He says, placing a buttery kiss to your cheek. You wipe it off and wipe it on his face.
He doesnt even care, staring into your eyes with the biggest smile on his face.
✭ John Price
— Definitely an old soul. Wasn’t into the way you displayed your body, but he eased into it as he fell deep into loves trap.
— His more traditional ways slowly died down after dating you. He couldn’t help his past mindset, it’s just how he was raised.
— He’s definitely all about paying for your hair, nails, clothes, makeup, and anything else you want.
— He taught you how to cook. It was definitely tough, but he’s a decent cook and had no problem passing it down to you.
— Admittedly, however, he does get very, very frustrated with you.
— Sometimes he has to walk away to calm himself down after a particularly rough interaction. He’s talked to you about this, and you’ve gotten used to it. You don’t have many problems with it now. Just hurts your heart a bit.
— But-! He always makes sure to comfort you afterward. He’s reassuring, telling you he’s sorry and he just needed a moment. He also is sure to ask you if you’d like to continue the conversation or move on.
— Sometimes you say you’d like to continue so you could push his buttons a bit more, but only if you’re extra frustrated with him.
— He also loves when you explain stuff to him he doesn’t understand! Ramble about makeup and clothes for hours! He takes good mental notes.
— He definitely loves you. Alot. He even describes you as his soulmate to his peers. He always manages to push past the frustration, and continues loving you no matter what.
Bonus:
You were applying your lipstick, lips parted and face shoved in the mirror.
“Darlin’?” Your boyfriend says, coming up behind you and examining what you’re doing. You turn around, smile painting your face. “Ah! Hii!” You exclaim. He smiles.
“Whatcha’ doin’?” He questions, head cocking. “Just finishing up my makeup. You like?” You ask. He gives an affirming nod. “You look absolutely ravishing.” You blush at the compliment.
“What’s this do?” He asks, picking up your mascara. You beam. “Mascara! Makes my eyelashes long and full.” You bat your eyes up at him prettily.
Your reaction urkes him to press further. “Oh yeah? What’s this?” He picks up one of your favorite eyeshadow pallets.
“Eyeshadow.” Your eyes close, allowing him to examine the masterpiece that painted your eyes. “Very nice.. Whats this?” He picks up your concealer. “Concealer! Hides all my flaws.” You giggle.
He cocks his head. “Impossible.” “Hm?” He smiles. “You have no flaws. Nothing to cover.” You blush, looking away nervously before looking back up to him with a heartfelt smile. “I love you.” You muse. “I love you more.”
This quickly turned into a battle of who loves eachother more, but he ended up letting you win just to see you get really happy.
✭ Phillip Graves
— Is absolutely obsessed with you and the way you look. Always has something to say about it.
— This man can never shut up about you!! You’re too perfect. Unfortunately for the other fellas’, you’re all his, and he makes that point very clear.
— You once mentioned matching tattoos and he was beaming with excitement. Absolutely ecstatic. He said yes about a hundred times.
— He helps you with everything. Money? Clothes? Food? Makeup? Bills? All the above, baby.
— You’re so special to him. He feels like his job is to talke care of all of your needs and wants, no matter how outrageous. He doesn’t want you to lift a finger. No job for you! Live in your lush lavish provided by your dear boyfriend.
— Once you had him take a look at the Adam & Eve website, and he bought you everything you clicked on to look at, whether it was lingerie or a toy.
— Definitely one of the most surprising packages to show up on your doorstep. Did you put all of the lingerie on and take a mini photo shoot for him? Oh, without a doubt.
— He does tend to get frustrated with you sometimes, though. Your relationship is 99% happy stars and rainbows and kittens, but the remaining 1% is how crazy you drive him sometimes.
— You don’t get something? Okay, he’ll send you an article about it. Don’t wanna read all that? He’ll break it down. Don’t understand how to do something? No more questions asked, he’s already doing it for you.
— There have been a few times where he’s let a few dull insults slip past his lips during arguments, telling you he does everything because you can’t. Later though, he realizes that was definitely wrong to say and it’s his fault for doing everything for you. You’re just his spoiled princess.
— That’s how he wants it to be, though. You’ll be his pampered little lover for the rest of eternity. Whether you like it or not. He’s never letting you go.
Bonus:
You’re lugging a box full of new shoes and accessories into your house, when all of a sudden your boyfriend comes from behind you and lifts it without a struggle.
“Oh, thank you!” You bat your pretty eyes at him as he sets the box down. “Of course, pretty.” He walks over to you, engulfing you in a hug.
“You’re gonna mess up my makeupppp!” You protest. “Awe, i’m sorry baby.” He pulls away, giving a fake pout.
You hesitate. “..W-wait. Come back.” You say. “And why should i?” He interrogates. “Because you love me.”
He smiles, and you reciprocate. “Can’t argue with that, can i?” His arms make their way around your waist again. “What about your makeup, hmm? Wouldnt wanna mess all your hard work up.” He teases, hands resting on your hips.
“I’ll just fix it later. Hug me. Please?” You beg, and of course, he gives in. He squeezes you tight. “Don’t bother. I’ll just end up ruining it later too.” He says, and your eyes blow wide.
“Phillip Graves! Not until marriage!” You joke, laughing and pushing him away. He laughs aswell. “I mean, i can already consider you as my wife. Been together forever, and you aren’t going anywhere.” He promises. Your cheeks heat up. “..Yeah?” “Yeah, princess. Mine.”
He starts to place little teasing kisses on your neck, and you giggle.
✭ König
— You make him so nervous. Your appearance just adds to it.
— Truly believes he doesn’t deserve someone as beautiful as you. You’re also complete opposites. You’re very outgoing where he tends to be timid and shy.
— Very bad self esteem, but believes everyone seeing him with such a babe will make people think higher of him.
— Of course this isn’t the only reason he’s with you!! He really, really likes you. And he hopes you feel the same way, he’s quite the overthinker.
— You’re entire world may revolve around your appearance for the most part, but you’re very good at comforting him. He greatly appreciates it.
— When you two are alone, he eases up and starts to become quite the chatterbox. Complimenting you, holding you in his arms while chatting up a storm, telling you anything and everything on his mind.
— He expresses that you’re perfect in his eyes. He loves you, which also means he absolutely adores everything about you. If you’re insecure, he throws in more compliments on the specific thing you’re insecure about.
“You’re beautiful. All of you.” “I love the way your body looks in that outfit.. Frames your perfect figure so well.”
— Random thing he likes - he loves giving you piggyback rides. Seeing the world from is point of view is so flabbergasting to you, no matter what! You always point out how tall he is. Makes him blush everytime.
— He’s never gotten frustrated with you. He understands how it feels to be bullied for being slow or “stupid”. He’s sure to reassure you that you’re none of those things, and everyone learns stuff differently!
— He’s very excited everytime you ask him to help you. He’ll do whatever he can to the best of his ability! Always assures you that you can count on him.
— He loves everything about you. I’ve said this before, but he truly does. Everything. You’re perfect.
— Eventually the insecurities fade, and he opens up. He’s so happy around you. He loves you so, so much. He still refuses to believe you’re his.
Bonus:
It finally snowed! You were super excited. You threw on one of your boyfriends way too big sweaters and some thermal tights with a pretty little skirt and some boots and made your way outside.
König follows behind once he realizes where you’ve gone. He’s worried you might get cold, but you’re quick to tell him you feel fine!
You throw a snowball at him, and he picks you up, twirling you around. “Oh no you don’t.” He says, holding you close. You giggle and squirm. “Nooo! Let me throw snowballs at you!!” You smile.
“How about instead of being violent with me, we build a snowman together?” He suggests, and you nod enthusiastically. You both begin to build the snowman, and he runs inside to grab a carrot for the nose and some chocolate for the buttons and eyes. (He couldn’t find coal.)
You both quickly decorate your snowman, and then you lean against him in content. “I may not be the smartest sometimes, but i can build a damn good snowman.”
“Hey! You’re smart. Intelligent, even.” He argues, making you laugh. “Thank you, baby.” You beam. His face flushes deeper than it already was.
“I love you so much.” He instantly curls in on himself after saying that, but quickly looking down at you as you reciprocate. “I love you more.” He picks you up and carries you inside, hugging you for “extra warmth”
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C.C. - peroxiddeprincess 2022. NO REPOSTS. reblogs appreciated!
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Follow You Anywhere 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: back again.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 
You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 
“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 
“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 
The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 
Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 
You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 
“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 
“I... don’t know--” 
“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 
He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 
“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 
He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 
“Sy!” You squawk. 
He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 
“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 
He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 
He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 
You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 
You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 
You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 
You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 
“Sy,” you say softly. 
He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 
You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 
He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 
“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 
He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 
You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 
Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 
No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  
Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 
You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 
You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 
As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 
“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 
You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 
His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 
You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  
“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 
You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 
“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 
“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 
You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 
You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 
“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 
You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 
“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 
He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 
He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 
“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 
🧸
You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 
You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 
“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 
He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 
He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 
That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 
“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 
You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 
“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 
You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 
“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 
Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 
“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 
“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 
“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 
“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 
“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 
You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 
“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 
You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 
“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 
“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 
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