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#also trying a bit of a different approach to painting with these and it's been fun
beetlebabby · 1 year
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inspiring myself to do studies by pretending its barovia
(in order these are: some of the forests around svalich river, the swamps around berez, lake zarovich shoreline, some of the standing stone circles, the windmill)
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ridingthatd · 5 months
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₊˚₊‧⁺˖ ITADORI AND HIS OLDER BROTHER
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₊˚₊‧⁺˖ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, fucking him and his brother, choso is fucked up, stalking
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itadori was such a puppy coded type of boyfriend, he was such a sweetheart, he was the type of boyfriend who would pick you up playfully and spin you around just to earn a giggle from you in return, he's the type to insist to take a shower with you, he had a rule that both of you should always bath together- whenever you plan to shower, yuji is already taking his shirt off, revealing his chest covered tattoos, getting ready to join you. he's the type to cuddle you all day whenever you had period cramps-
but he was also the type to fuck you through it, insisting that filling you with his warm cum would make you feel better, insisting that him sucking on your sore boobs would relief the pain, insisting that him licking your blood-soak pussy would make you both feel good- he wasn't lying, a thing that always set you off that yuji acted differently in sex, whenever he would fuck you, it wasn't a sweet love making type, it was the type that would almost make you pass out from being to stuffed with his monster of a cock, that would have you drooling, crossed eyed, out of your mind, that would leave bruises-marks on your body the next morning.
itadori was the type to love you with all his heart, to do anything for the people he loves, the people he care about, and the only people he cared about was you-
and his older brother choso, he looked nothing like your boyfriend- while your boyfriend held such a nice, approachable era around him, his brother was quite the opposite.
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his whole era screamed not approachable, a cold glare was always painted on his face, he had a long dark hair that he would usually throw in a bun, he was tall a bit taller than yuji was, and of course he had tattoos, their gang tattoos- yea your boyfriend was in a gang, to be honest you already knew quite awhile before yuji decided to tell you, it was because your boyfriend always had difficulties in lying he made it so obvious that you weren't surprised once he told you.
both of them had the same exact tattoos, but choso had one tattoo itadori didn't have- it was the tattoo on his face, a straight line painted on his nose.
choso have always wanted you- more like him and his little brother have always wanted you. they been stalking you for a year, ever since they saw you in the club where they had a gang meeting, you wouldn't leave their mind, so they stalked you, they both were fucked up in head, loving the feeling of watching you, your every step, everything you do without you knowing, loving the feeling of watching you moan, and whine in the shower as you use your little fingers to get off.
choso insisted that his little brother should get with you first, claim you first, before anyone else gets to do that before them- he knows he wouldn't let that happen, he would shred whoever dare to lay as much as a finger on you expect him and itadori.
choso sit on the guests bed, he was in the apartment of his little brother, staying in for a little, he always do his causal visits. loving the way you try so hard to hide your attraction to him, staring at him with your fuck me eyes, so tempting.
what would it feel like? to have your warm, wet pussy clutch around him, have the tip of his dick catch at the tight entrance and not let him go, demanding him right back in until he’s sheathed balls deep, his throbbing shaft engulfed and secure and feeling so good. and the day has finally come-
tears and hick ups falls from your lips, as your boyfriends brother, tease you, not letting you cum for the 3rd time. drool leaves your lips connecting your tongue to itadoris tongue as he pulls back, after he spat inside of your mouth, that was half opened the whole time not being able to stop your whines.
"aw look at her, such a pretty little baby, you wanna cum on my brothers tongue? you wanna squirt on his face?" yuji darkly speak out, as he harhsly twist your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling it.
you glance down between your thighs to see choso already hungrily staring at you, groaning and slurping on your pussy as if he's feasting on his prey, his huge thick fingers roughly going in-out of your cunt making loud wet noises.
"cum" this is all choso needed to say before you arch your back, your thighs shake, and clear liquid comes out squirting, gushing his whole face with it, choso opens his mouth and let it land directly in his mouth as if he's drinking from a fountain of a goddess. yuji couldn't help but groan at the sight, mouth watering wanting to taste your juice too.
as you limblessly lay down, not having the energy to move a muscle after all the teasing, your boyfriend pick you up and make you lay down on his chest, as he coo at you, showering your face with kisses- you were about to relax into his embrace but you feel his huge cock, rub on your pussy and make it's way inside of you- you whimper.
"shhh it's okay, it's okay leme keep my cock warm and good inside of your pretty little pussy yea?" itadori whispers next your ear, sucking on the tender spot on your neck, you feel chosos huge hands grab your ass and roughly lift you and slam you down his brothers cock, you gasp- he didn't leave any room for you to breath as he keep repeating the process, shoving you up-down, as he lean in, his chest on your back.
"you like that? is my little brothers cock filling you good?" he whispers next to your right ear, trailing his nose down your neck, as yuji suck on your bouncing nipples- clearly to lost in your pussy to keep on what his brother is doing.
you stiffen once you feel a cold metal on your asshole, not quite sure what it is, you don't realize what it is till you feel the warm, twitching cock of choso- it was a piercing, choso had a piercing on his cock. he slowly spread your cheeks, and circle your hole with his cock, before he gently start making his way in, tearing through your ass.
"fuck she got even more tighter fuck fuck fuck" you glance down at your boyfriend he was rocking his hips up your pussy, fucked out his mind, this sight of him was such a turn on that you lean down to suck on his lips, while making clear access for choso to shove his entire cock in.
you choke not being able to breath, " to- to much to much to much" you cry out crawling your nails on yuji chest trying to escape his brothers cock that teared into your ass. choso laughs darkly- it was the first time you heared him laughing before he grabs your hips and shoved you towards him.
"you can't run little pet, now you're finally mine i won't ever let you go" he roughly grabs your hair and slams into you, ignoring your cry out, itadori grabs your chin, leading your lips to his, as he keeps humping up your pussy.
you were so filled that you think both of their cocks might come out your nose, your mind was fuggy to much pleasure on your body, all you could think about was their massive cocks, thoughts only circling around dick, dick, dick, dick.
"we going to cum inside of both of yours holes baby, fill you in so so so so good" itadori whine, as he spills his warm white liquid inside of you- you can feel his thighs shaking, eyes crossed so fucked out. just like you were.
"now it's my turn" choso groans out before he fills your tight ass, not stopping till every single drop was inside of you. you soon follow him squirting on yujis cock helpsly being sandwiched by both of them.
"round 2?" itadori grins.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
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tonyspank · 7 months
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WH0 R U 2???
Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.
Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)
A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u
part 1
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Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.
Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.
As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.
Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.
"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.
"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.
You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.
"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.
Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."
"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."
You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.
"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.
"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.
The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"
"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"
Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.
"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"
You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."
Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."
You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."
Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."
"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.
You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.
Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.
When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.
But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.
Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."
Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.
"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.
Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.
Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?
Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles
Shit.
Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes
Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll
Tara: just tell sam im on the way
Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house
Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 
Tara: wtf? no?
Tara: ill ttyl
-
The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.
Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.
"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.
"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."
Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"
"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."
"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."
Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."
You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"
You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."
You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"
Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"
You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."
-
You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."
You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."
Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.
You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.
On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.
Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.
Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.
You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.
"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.
You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.
Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.
You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.
A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.
Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?
The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.
Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.
You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.
When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.
Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.
"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.
Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.
Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.
You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.
Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.
She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.
One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.
You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.
Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.
Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.
You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.
You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.
"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.
Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."
You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.
And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.
"Y/N! Shit!"
You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.
While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.
Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."
Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.
Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.
The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.
You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.
Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.
Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.
She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.
This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.
She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.
As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.
You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.
Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.
The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.
Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.
You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.
The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."
Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.
1K notes · View notes
yuyu1024 · 3 months
Text
Escape
Pairings: Yoongi × y/n
Genre/tags: Arranged marriage
Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence
~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 5.8k
Disclaimer:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
Note: continuation of Prisoner.
I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.
(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)
***
Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.
Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.
At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.
But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.
"Excuse me?"
You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.
"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.
"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks
"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest
She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."
You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.
"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."
"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."
"It's fine. I understand."
She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.
"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."
As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.
You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.
You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.
Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.
"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past
"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."
She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."
Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.
'Is she an ex of his?'
'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'
I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.
Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.
"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.
"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"
You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.
You turn around immediately before she could response again.
This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.
You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.
You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.
You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.
"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.
"How... do you know who I am?"
He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass
"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"
He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."
"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"
"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"
You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.
He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.
1. Don't cut your hair short
2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him
3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard
4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)
5. Use the safeword during sex
And etc.
The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.
"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.
After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.
As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.
Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?
These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.
They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.
Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?
Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.
"What are you doing here?"
Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.
He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.
You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?
"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up
"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.
"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.
"You know... you can't drink."
"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly
"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."
Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.
Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.
"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds
Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.
Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.
"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.
That was it?
"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.
"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.
Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.
"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him
***
"Get in." He orders you
Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.
"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.
"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.
We are now isolated.
He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.
"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say
He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."
Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?
Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.
This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.
"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."
"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."
He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.
"Wait..."
He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?" He asks
"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper
Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.
"He might hear us..." you whisper
"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.
***
After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.
"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."
They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.
"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.
Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.
"Y/n..."
You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.
"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"
"Why?"
He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.
"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.
Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.
Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.
"Aren't you getting in?"
You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.
"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.
After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.
Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders
"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.
"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."
"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.
'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.
"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes
You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.
*pings*
The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.
"Where are you going?" He asks
"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."
"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.
"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.
"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.
"W-what? Why?"
He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.
"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.
"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"
Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."
***
[Flashback to Yoongi's side]
(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)
Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.
However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.
"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.
"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.
"I see."
One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.
"Look who's here."
"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.
"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"
"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.
"It is, Sir. By--"
"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."
"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."
She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.
"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."
You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.
"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."
You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.
You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.
Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.
"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."
[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]
*************
"Miss..."
Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.
"Miss..."
You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.
"It's noon Miss..."
"Oh."
It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.
You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.
"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."
"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble
"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.
"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."
"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.
"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave
"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."
"Sure."
You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.
What happened? You don't know.
The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.
Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.
When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.
And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.
"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.
"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.
"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged
He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.
"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"
"Y-yes..."
"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."
"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.
His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.
"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.
You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.
"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.
And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.
It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.
And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.
You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.
"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.
You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.
"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"
You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?
After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.
How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.
"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."
*********
"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.
Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.
"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.
"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie
All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.
"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."
Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"
"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."
"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.
"Twenty."
"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."
"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.
"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."
He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.
"Understood." The man replies
"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks
"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.
"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.
"Nothing, Sir."
"Just spit it out."
The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice
And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.
"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."
"So? What's your point?"
"It's just lately...."
Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.
"What are you implying? Just... say it."
Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."
"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.
*****
"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.
To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.
You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.
"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"
You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer
"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.
"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."
She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.
You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.
It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.
"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.
"The middle one." You says.
You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.
"Ahm, Miss...?"
"Yes?"
"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"
"Hmm... what did he say?"
"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."
"Did he say if he wants to see me?"
The maid didn't answer.
"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."
"Understood." She bows and exists the room.
"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."
Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.
"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."
Part 3 - Twilight
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joelsmochi · 5 months
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Diet Mountain Dew
rating: E 18+ only pairing: f!reader x bfd!joel miller (tv + game series) summary: your boyfriend has been cheating on you, but his uncaring, selfish, and very flirtatious father wants to make it up to you the best way he knows how... warnings: AU (no apocalypse, no sarah), infidelity, 30+ year age gap, asphyxiophilia, dacryphilia, a little rough housing, hair pulling, spanking, oral (m receiving) | let me know if i've missed any! wc: 5.5k a/n: thank you for 500 followers!!! let the record show that i do not condone or endorse cheating at all, this is purely for entertainment purposes!!! i tried something a little bit different with the writing style so please let me know if you guys like it or not!
you’re no good for me, but baby i want you…
He couldn’t help his filthy mind. Even if he wanted to. Being around you was always a test of his willpower.
He kept as much distance as respectfully possible, not wanting to give himself away. Still, every night he managed to find himself lying in bed fisting his cock while entertaining the daydreams he often had of fucking you into the bed.
It wasn’t the age difference that deterred him from you, but the mere fact that you were dating his son.
He hated himself for it, but he hated it even more when he would be painting his stomach with white streaks and barely whispering remnants of your name.
And now, as he sits across from you and his son at the dinner table, he hates himself for finding you so pretty.
His eyes keep lowering to look at your grey and white striped tank top — not because he was trying to look at your cleavage but because it fits you perfectly. You kept fidgeting with the top hem of your shirt as if you were ensuring it wasn’t shifting too low. He thought it was cute.
Your voice left him in a trance; he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, but he enjoyed hearing you rave and ramble about the movie you just went to.
The real mood killer was Jacob — “Okay, we get it. It was a good movie,” he snapped.
“Jacob,” Joel scolded. Though the pout you absentmindedly wore told Joel that it was pointless.
Jacob made an incredulous face and slightly shrugged. “What? She’s been talking about the movie for ten minutes. I feel like I saw the damn thing.”
“Well, I happen to like spoilers.” Joel meant it as a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, but once he saw the slight smile on your face, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness.
How he could appreciate you more than his son did was beyond him. Joel just hoped it wasn’t a more significant issue behind closed doors.
Over the next few months, Joel had been seeing less and less of you and even managed to overhear some of the times Jacob had been arguing with you over the phone.
From the only half of the conversation he could hear, Joel gathered that you were upset that Jacob was spending more time with “friends” than you, which led Joel to believe it was more of an indication of cheating. He stayed tightlipped about it because he had no desire to stir up any unnecessary drama, but his curiosity grew as time passed.
So when he saw you grabbing some cereal in the grocery store on a random Tuesday, he wasted no time approaching you.
You seemed surprised at him calling your name but gave him a welcoming smile nonetheless.
“Hi, Joel, how are you?”
“I’m alright, how ‘bout you? Feel like I haven’t seen you around lately.”
Your smile nearly dropped completely. “Yeah, uh. Jacob and I are just going through a tough time right now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Joel said softly, not really meaning it. “My son aside, I do actually enjoy your company. I mean, you’re the only twenty-four year old I know that likes U2.”
That made you chuckle. “Oh, is my seasoned music taste the only thing I have going for myself,” you bantered.
He tried to contain his blush as if it were even possible. “No, not at all,” he sarcastically replied. “You also don’t use like or totally after every other word.”
You laughed harder at that, maybe a little more than necessary, but it was nice to be complimented on things other than how ‘good you give head.’
A few minutes later, you told Joel you have to get going, and for some reason, he took it as the chance to say, “Next week, they’ll have that new Daniel Craig movie in theaters. I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go. I remember you said something about it.”
You smirked up at him and narrowed your eyes slowly. “Are you asking your son’s girlfriend on a date, Mr. Miller?”
Kind of, he thought.
“No! No, fuck,” he hissed, pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”
And there’s another cute laugh coming out of you. “I’m teasin’. I think it might be a little weird, y’know?”
“Jake can come if you want. Doesn’t have to just be you and me.”
“Mmm… I kinda don’t want him to,” you admitted. “He’ll just complain the whole time. We’re friends, right? Let’s go, just you and me.” Your optimism plastered a smile on his face, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think it was cute. He agreed, and you both said your goodbyes.
As you walked away, you felt a pang of guilt for some reason. It wasn’t a date, but it felt like one. This sudden need to impress Joel Miller (formerly anticipated father-in-law) made you feel weird.
But you thought of all the nights you spent home alone watching movies because your boyfriend was out late again. And again. And again.
After a long and stressful internal debate inside a bath with some Epsom salts, you decided not to care.
So what if you wanted to dress up and wear a little makeup to (hopefully) catch your boyfriend’s dad’s attention? It's not like your boyfriend didn’t spend time doing body shots off of some random girl at the furthest bar across town.
A little male attention wouldn’t hurt anything, right? 
Besides, you didn’t think Joel would actually care. Pretending it was a date was purely just for your entertainment.
So when the day came, you practically ran outside the second you got a text message from him saying he was there. He chewed on his bottom lip to restrain his grin as he watched you walk towards his car, wearing a denim mini-skirt and a white babydoll top.
Your hair was neat and tucked behind your ears, and you were visibly wearing more makeup than usual.
He felt flattered, entertaining the idea of you putting in a little extra effort just for him.
The ride to the car wasn’t as tense as you had anticipated. You both spent it to talk about the previous movie and the theories you both had for the new one.
While you both were excited to see the actual movie, neither of you could stop noticing the small details about each other.
He smelled your lotion. You smelled his body wash.
He noticed your new earrings. You caught him smiling a lot more.
He looked at you every chance he got. You waited until he looked away to look at him.
He insisted on paying for your tickets and food at the theater, then led you to the “best seats” in the viewing room. Not a date, your ass. He even looked like he put effort into buying a new pair of jeans.
The tension inside you grew as soon as the movie began. And fucking hell, you didn’t know you could get so horny so fast. It was stupid little things that made you clench your thighs occasionally.
No fingers brushing. No elbows touching. Nothing like that.
Instead, it was the sound of his fingernails scratching the thick layer of scruff along his jaw, how he occasionally readjusted in his seat and seemingly spread his legs a little more, and when he would look over at you to ensure you were enjoying the movie.
This had gone a little further in your head than you intended, but you didn’t fucking want it to stop.
Maybe halfway through the movie, he realized you hadn't opened any of your candy. You always ate candy during a movie; it was something Jacob found cute when you first started dating and something Joel grew accustomed to long before his crush even developed. Joel even made it a point to keep a stash for when Jacob had you over for movie night.
He felt a little silly for hyper-fixating on such a weird and relatively small detail, but then he saw your legs clench together. He tried telling himself you were only readjusting your position, but then you sighed in a peculiar tone. The sigh that Joel always let out when he was sexually frustrated.
He would have continued telling himself he was reading too much into it, but another soft sigh left your lips, and suddenly, all he could think about was having you beneath him making the same pretty noises.
All the signs were there, but who would initiate it, and how? He worried he bit off more than he could chew by inviting you here. It only got more difficult to ignore when his cock stiffened inside his jeans, rolling his eyes at the fact that he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home to take care of it.
You noticed his hand palming his jeans and glanced over at him, only to see his erection throb against his pants, hard.
Knowing you’d probably regret it, you put your hand beneath the armrest and suddenly rested your hand high up on his thigh. His body tensing made you halt any more sudden movements, but nothing suggested he wanted you to stop.
He searched for the strength to push your hand off and tell you to stop, that this was wrong, and to remind you of your assumed loyalty to his son.
But he didn’t want that at all.
He liked having your hand on his thigh where it felt like it belonged, painted nails drawing small circles along the denim.
What he truly needed was for this fucking movie to be over. Once it finally was, he wasted no time getting you back into his truck.
“Joel?” Your voice was fragile and soft, and you wondered why he hadn’t made a move yet or at least started the engine. “Should I not have done that?”
“What were you thinkin’?” Was all he could think to ask.
“Guess I wasn’t.”
“No. You shouldn’t’a done that.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You will be.”
You don’t remember who initiated it or climbed in the backseat first. All you knew was that you were looking at the back of a building, the mall, or something, and you heard Joel grunting next to your ear while his hips slammed against your ass.
You felt a soreness forming around where his rough hands were holding you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. You leaned into the meanness of his grip, allowing it to satiate all of that burning desire running along your flesh.
“Oh my God, Joel, ye-yes.”
His name dripping so effortlessly from your lips only urged him to fuck you even faster, his truck no doubt shaking violently because of it, some metal underneath made that obnoxious creaking sound to verify.
“You like that, huh,” he groaned; his fingers wrapped around the cuff of your elbow to meet his body halfway with the thrusts. “Needy fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well-agh!“
“So deep,” you huffed out.
“C’mere.”
Joel carefully turned your body around, sitting you back against the door before sliding his cock back inside of you with ease from how wet you were.
“Joel,” you moaned without reason, eyes fluttering shut as the curve of his shaft continued to rut into that sensitive spot.
He pulled the strap of your tank top down to find you braless. Of course. He smirked and licked his thumb and index finger before giving your stiff nipple a soft pinch.
Your breath shuddered at the surge of pleasure, and then he did the same thing to your clit with his other hand.
“Oh my fucking-“ You cut words off with a deep moan, finding it a little silly that such a slight squeeze to your clit could make you melt the way it did.
“Tha’ feel good, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse from choking back his own moans.
You hummed and nodded, something he thought was cute and began to rub your clit forcefully with his big thumb. Your mind felt numb from all of it, so much pleasure releasing itself.
Looking up at Joel made you feel so small, protected, and cared for. Looking down between your legs, he looked so focused on making you feel good.
“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”
You shot your wide-eyed gaze up at him, surprised at his sudden appraisal of his son.
He chuckled and took his hand from your breast to softly hold your chin. “You gettin’ all shy on me now, girl?” Suddenly, he fell to an achingly slow rhythm and curled his hips into yours instead of his previous thrusting. “…I thought you had a bit more confidence than that.”
You scowled at his taunts, not sure what to say back. You just wanted to fucking cum. Noticing your lack of response made him chuckle again.
“What? My son don’t fuck you stupid like this?” He whispered onto your lips.
“…No,” you finally whimpered.
You felt a weird rush of emotion pass through you; the father of your boyfriend talking down on him while simultaneously fucking you didn’t turn you off like it maybe should have… If anything, it pushed you closer to the edge.
Joel raised his eyebrows in amusement and half smiled at your flushed face. “No?” His finger still made loops around your clits, his cock drenched in your heat. He wanted you to feel all of it.
“You make me feel so good, Joel.” You reached up to give him a chaste kiss.
“You take me so well, honey,” he said against your neck. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, baby? Hmm?”
You whispered out your confirmation and grabbed a hold of his greying hair. You wanted to memorize this moment thread by thread. His hair smelled of cheap shampoo and his beard of coffee, but his arms and chest smelled like him with the hint of sweat that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, how you could just bathe in him, cumming and unfolding in his strong arms. 
“Oh- Joel, I’m cu—I’m cumming,” you choked out. He said something about how good you were that you couldn’t quite process.
You held onto him tightly and cried out at the sensation of your knotted-up tension unraveling inside you like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened up. It fluttered and filled every corner of your mind, all while you moaned his name. You couldn’t even confuse it with his son’s. Joel.
Joel just worked better in your mind than Jacob ever could. Joel worked your body better, too. Maybe even a little better than you.
Your mind was so fucking blank that you almost didn’t feel Joel collapse onto you as he finished himself, moaning your name and running his hands all over you as if to savor it. He kissed you softly, slowly pulling out of you, and discarded the condom somewhere.
“So pretty when you cum.”
You lazily giggled at the compliment and sat up to grab your panties, but Joel snatched them from your weak hand. He took your legs and rested them in his lap to slide the fabric up your calves and thighs. You just watched and smiled at his further appreciation for your body as he did the same with your skirt.
“You really know how to treat a lady,” you playfully cooed, reaching for another kiss that he returned, savoring it.
He bashfully smiled, like his mind was elsewhere. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”
“We will,” you quipped, confidence returning; he glanced over at you and frowned, confused at the sly grin you wore proudly. You climbed onto his lap and ran your nails over his facial hair, trailing over his pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. “The more you fight it, the more you’ll need me, Joel.”
And fuck, were you right.
Weeks. He waited weeks after that encounter to see you. Weeks, he felt disappointed when you didn’t attend the weekly dinner that Joel and Jacob agreed upon him moving out.
He no longer felt guilty touching himself to thoughts of you. He was angry. Why couldn’t you just say you agreed with him instead of letting him know there was an opportunity to do it again? Why make yourself available to anyone other than his (shitty) son?
That anger turned into thirst when you finally decided to show up for Jacob’s small birthday dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to wish the only child a happy birthday. Meanwhile, Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you the second you walked in — partially because he wasn’t expecting you to show up after not seeing you for a while, but he’d never seen you wear something so… Short.
As possessive as he wanted to be, he knew he had to keep his composure not to reward you the satisfaction and keep his promise to himself. What he hadn’t considered is that you would not make those same promises.
While Joel finished preparing the food, you told Jacob you’d help bring everything else out so he could sit around the living room and talk to his family and friends.
You took the unnecessary route and grazed your chest against Joel’s elbow as you reached into the refrigerator to grab some drinks before taking them to the other room. You made as many sly little trips like that, not looking at or towards Joel whatsoever but making sure he was looking at you.
You saved Joel’s beer for last. You always brought him his beer once you realized he usually had one before eating dinner any time you were over. It wasn’t anything malicious or sneaky until now.
You grabbed the brown glass bottle and stood next to him. Finally giving him the satisfaction of looking at him, you twisted the cap off and wrapped your lips around the cold rim, tilting the glass up and tasting some of the orange-flavored liquid, lips coming off the bottle with a pop.
Those lips. That noise. It filled his mind with the image of you a second ago, only instead of a beer bottle, he imagined his hard cock.
He watched carefully as you licked up a running droplet from the side of the neck; you held the bottle up for him to take, and tensely, he did so.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” His usual response but in a more sultry tone.
It made you blush and stare at him like he hung the stars and moon every night for you. “You’re welcome, Joel.”
He kept his eyes on you as you walked away for the last time, thinking about everything he wanted to do to you.
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His hands were firm, clasped tightly around your wrists. His body pressed into your back while he pushed you against the wall. He hated that you were laughing. That you thought this was a funny game.
He thrusted into your ass without care, hurting you slightly with the pressure. He grabbed a hold of your hair and yanked it. He almost smiled at you, yelping out.
“Where’s that little fucking smile at now, huh,” he gritted. Then he planted a hard smack to your cheek, not bothering to soothe it the slightest bit. “You think you can just tease me and test me and fucking treat me however you want? Hmm? Think you can walk around with your ass damn near hangin’ out of this fucking dress?”
A tear rolled down your burning cheek as you whimpered, “I’m sorry, Joel. I w-wanted your attention.”
“You got what you wanted. Don’t fuckin’ cry about it now.”
Feeling your panties fill with a warm desire, you felt pathetic and weak.
Do I like that, you wondered, feeling used and being hurt?
You got your confirmation from the dumb little whimper you let out when you felt Joel’s body release from you. He boots thumping against the floor a few times before the bed creaked from his body weight.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered.
You pushed away from the wall and tiptoed to him. He almost felt bad for making you cry, but you were pushing his fucking buttons all night long. You sank to the floor, sitting on your bare feet and looking at him through wet eyelashes. Joel was more than glad that Jacob decided to go to a party with his friends and even more pleased that he didn't ask questions when you said you'd stay to help Joel clean up.
“I’m sorry, Joel-“
“You will be.”
You softly smile at him, repeating those words, knowing this time he meant it.
His eyes were cold and shallow when they stared into yours as his hands worked to undo his belt buckle. The metal teeth clanking together made you shudder, and you tried your best to keep your eyes locked with his.
“You misbehave once, and this belt goes ‘round your neck,” he warned, “we clear?”
You bashfully nodded, thankful he accepted it as an answer. Though you secretly hoped he would do it already, knowing you were bound to back talk him at some point.
Joel began to undo his jeans, and he made a ticking noise behind his teeth, ruminating on how you played with him at the table.
“Playin’ with my cock under the table,” he grunted, pulling his jeans down to his knees, “what kinda girl are you?”
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, felt you,” you said, glancing down at the growing erection beneath his plaid boxers. “I was being needy.”
“Yes, you were,” he simpered, “but you know I like that.”
You hesitated for a second before jumping into his lap and kissing him. Thrown off, it was a moment until he relaxed into your body, grasping the sides of your waist and hungrily kissing you back with a groan emitting from his throat.
He tasted like a man. He smelled like a man. Beer and body wash and perspiration drowning your senses. Your pussy ached when he slipped his beer-coated tongue into your mouth, sloppily licking around the ridges of your teeth and lips, tasting your chapstick and that one sip of alcohol you stole from him a couple of hours prior.
He felt your shaky hands reach to pull his cock out of his boxers; you pumped it slowly with one hand between your bodies, causing his moans to fall into your mouth.
He got a hold of your tits and massaged them gently before giving your nipples both a hard pinch, making you yelp and pull away from him. After chuckling at your pouty face, he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled it to his liking, almost treating you like a rag doll.
“Need you to suck my cock,” he choked out, sounding almost as if he were pleading of you to do it.
“Are you asking?”
He tugged your hair a little harder to signal he was not asking.
“Yes, sir.”
He watched intently as you stripped down to your panties and sat back in your previous position on the floor, taking his pants off and propping your arms on his burly thighs. He leaned back after unbuttoning his shirt and watched your tongue lick up a thick bead of precum from his tip, and you swallowed it without a second thought.
You drooled and spit all over his cock, wanting to make it a little messy for him, and even spreading some around his balls which made him incandescently moan.
And finally, you took him into your mouth, slobbering and sucking and moaning away around his girth. Your hand pumped to the sane rhythm of your mouth while gently squeezing and twisting it to add to his pleasure.
Joel’s head fell back in ecstasy; he couldn’t hold back his moans even if he wanted to. Your mouth was so warm and inviting, and it felt so fucking good. Your tongue lapping away as you sucked drove him crazy, and he found himself wondering why the fuck his son was cheating on you.
“That’s it, baby—mnh, fuck,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Ohh, just like that.”
His hand stroked your hair, and you looked up at him from the touch. Those eyes of yours made his thighs twitch and his stomach contract.
He wanted to punish you for making him wait, for teasing him, for being so fucking irresistible… But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He felt weak beneath you, out of control. And he loved it: watching you take control of him, his dick. The slurping noises coming from your mouth not only suggested that you knew what you were doing but that you fucking loved it.
Your lips humming around him and creating webs of spit and precum made his dick harder than he had ever felt it. He was so close already, dire for his release, and it didn’t help when you surprised him with a rough thrust into your throat.
It hurt a lot, but that’s what you wanted. To ruin yourself for him. Show Joel what he could be getting every fucking night. Tears ran down your cheeks as you put him further down your throat until your nose was buried into the black and grey hairs surrounding the base of his cock.
He cried out your name and obscenities, saying, “Please,” for something, but you were not sure what exactly. His trembling thighs began closing around your head, not aiding in the lack of oxygen you had left, but he tried to fight it. You refused to let up on him, only swallowing hard and gagging harder, waiting for him to shoot his cum down your throat.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Oh fuck, no one- agh—no one’s ever fucking gone that deep-“
That’s what he was pleading for: he wanted you to quit. He didn’t want to cum so soon. But he tasted so good, and you had gotten him so fucking close, you couldn’t see yourself quitting now.
You pulled your head up to mess with Joel’s head, making him think you were listening. But you only went back down, making him pull your hair to stop you from disobeying him. Your lips departed from him with a pop, the same pop that he'd heard when you took a sip of his drink. It made him all the more desperate.
Despite your coughing and choking, he slipped his belt around your neck and looped it, not saying anything to ridicule you and simply tugging at the belt roughly. You choked a little more and then smiled at him, drool dripping down your chin onto your breasts. The sight was purely pornographic. Your lips were puffy, your face red, eyes dark and welling up, tears streaks on your cheekbones.
“Since you wanna fucking choke on something so bad…”
He tugged at the belt once again to emphasize his point. He stood up and yanked the leather to guide you where he wanted, yet that proud look never left your face. You were on all fours on the bed as if you were on display for him, and he stood behind you, pressing his thumb to your slit and spreading your juices around lazily.
You hummed at the small amount of friction and arched your ass up for him. Wiggling your hips in desperation, he smacked your ass hard enough to sting, the echo in the room ringing against your eardrums.
Joel smacked his fat tip against your asshole smirking when he felt it pucker; he took his wet cock in his hand, pumping it a few times before allowing it to sink inside of your needy cunt. You found yourself burying your face into the sheets as he began fucking you, the tug around your neck digging deeper as Joel maintained his grip on it.
“Such a fucking slut, so wet from just sucking my cock,” he spat, watching his cock disappear into your swelling pussy over and over and over. “S’it feel good, baby?”
You nodded, arching your back even more to feel him reach deeper and whimpering whenever his tip brutally bumped your cervix.
Suddenly, you felt a firm yank against your neck. “Use your words.”
“Feels so good, Joel,” you answered.
A swell of desire fills your belly, growing each time he thrusts into that sweet little spot inside of you. You’re clawing at the bed, reaching your neck forward to apply the satisfaction of not being able to breathe.
His free hand pressed against the swell of your ass, gripping it tightly as his hips snapped against the back of your thighs, making a clapping sound fill the room. You moaned into his duvet, slobber trailing out of the corners of your mouth. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust gave you the added pleasure you needed to finish if he kept this rhythm, but his voice was what you needed to send you over the edge.
"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he groaned. "Love how you squeeze my cock with it. Ohh, yeah, that's it, baby. You need to cum? Hmm? Does this pretty pussy need to cum?"
Your moans, muffled by the sheets, resulted in him pulling the belt up enough to make you lift your head so that he could hear you more clearly. "Yes yes yesss, Joel- MNH, oh fuck yes, please please."
He never forgot how your body gave away when you needed to cum; your body heaved with anticipation, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip, your walls clung to him tighter than what was comfortable (which he fucking lived for then and now), and your moans heightened in pitch and volume. He couldn't punish you when you sounded so sexy screaming his name, it was his biggest weakness.
"I know, baby, I know. You can come," he encouraged sweetly, massaging the dip in your back to help relax you. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Need to feel you- fuck- cum for me."
And a few seconds later, you were convulsing beneath him from the tight coil inside of you finally breaking into shreds. The belt being pulled tighter around your neck rendered you helpless as it created the euphoria of what felt like nearly passing out. The fuzzy vision and the black spots sent your mind into a daze, or it could have been the lack of air. Your eyes grew heavy as your orgasm persisted from Joel's lack of mercy for your cunt. He just pounded away like you were made for him and his enjoyment only, and it thrilled you even more.
He grabbed your shoulder gently to bring your back to his chest and let go of the belt. You breathed heavily, and Joel kissed your jaw endearingly, his beard scraping your skin.
"So good f'me, you know that?" He moaned against your ear. His eyes fluttered shut when his hand went to cradle your chin, and he felt all of the saliva and tears coating your face. 
"Can't take it," you mumbled.
Your cunt was aching and sore, still pulsing from the harsh climax you had to endure with him not easing up at all. Your lips were swollen from his rough pounding, and your ass was burning from his hairs scratching against you. His cruel laugh filled your ears and made even more tears fall from your eyes.
"Fucking ruined you," he chuckled, earning another moan from you. "You can take it, baby. I know you can. I know you can be a good girl for me. Gonna fill you up with my cum- mmngh... Make sure this pussy knows it belongs to me."
"It does," you huff out, reaching to hold onto his forearms. "Not anyone else. Not even me. Just for you, Joel. It's all yours. Not even Jacob's."
That sent him over the edge. A pathetic whimper followed by a moan left his hoarse throat while he gave you one last powerful thrust. That cold feeling of guilt flooded his body and turned him on even more; he relished in the confidence you reclaimed, knowing that the guilt and secrecy of it all also turned you on in the darkest of ways.
"Fuck," he shouted as the last of his spend poured inside of your sore pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and slowly pulled out of you to sit beside you on the bed before you climbed to straddle his thighs. "You're amazing," he whispered against your lips whilst unraveling the belt from your neck. "You know you really are gonna help me clean up," he teased, sending you into a short fit of laughter.
"Only if we get to make one more mess, Mr. Miller."
dividers by cafekitsune
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heartsteel-heartbeats · 6 months
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More dating Heartsteel Kayn HCs (Birthday + Halloween Edition! ft. Rhaast)
Brief mention of drinking, but doesn’t go into full detail.
(( Happy birthday to this silly guy!! 😚😚 )) ~ OBBY 💗
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You’ve known Kayn’s birthday was on the 30th and not the 31st thanks to a certain K/DA member texting him at a very unfortunate time, but you did enjoy the idea of celebrating both days in general. Kayn, on the other hand, prefers the 31st because that is what he says his birthday is. It doesn’t hurt to just simply indulge him. If he wants his birthday on the 31st, who the hell are you to say? Don’t let that stop you from doing something fun on the 30th though. Try to take advantage of the fact he has a habit of staying up very late. As long as you two aren’t caught, perhaps you could get away with a thing or two. Maybe a little spray paint to liven up this boring alley right?
Kayn might catch on to what your intentions are and he will tease you about it and telling you his birthday is tomorrow, but he truly does appreciate what you’re doing. Any moment he can spare just to be with you is everything to him.
“Is this for my birthday? You know that’s tomorrow.” “Whattt? Of course I know that.” “This is for my birthday, isn’t it?” “Totally not.” “It’s totally for my birthday!” “It’s past midnight anyway! It’s your birthday right now!”
On the 31st, do expect Rhaast to make an appearance. In fact, it may or may not have been his idea for you to dress up like him. He thinks it’d look cool, and luckily for both of you, some people seemed to have the same idea to dress up as him. Of course, it’d be obvious to tell which one was the real Rhaast, but you? The media can just say you were just a “mysterious talented artist” who practically nailed the costume. At least they never got a picture of your face or even your name, and they’ll never know that you actually got help from the man himself.
Rhaast does eventually escape from the crowd just to go to you and drag you onto a rooftop to watch everyone else. Does he make fun of other people’s attempts to dress up as him? Absolutely.
“[name]! Look at that one over there!” “A for effort, at least.” “No, that’s too high! Bump it down to C tier.” “Hah! That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Not even low B tier?” “Not at all!” “Oh come on, look at that one. That one’s not that bad, right?” “Ugh, more like cheaply made.”
Rhaast himself is pretty anti-paparazzi. Not in the “literally blinding in the camera” kind of anti-paparazzi, but rather the one that tends to scare them away quite literally. Popping out of nowhere with a loud “BOO!” and a boisterous laugh. Although in general, Rhaast is just really hard to get a good picture of if it’s not during a show. I mean have you seen him? Look at him go.
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tbh he’d probably scare some kids too
Since we’re talking about Rhaast, let’s talk about your relationship with him. He loves you. In fact, he’s the one that pushed Kayn to approach you when he realized how Kayn felt about you. In a way, you could say this relationship is polyamorous. Rhaast still gets very jealous if he’s not let out to have time with you, though it’s not so different with Kayn. Both of them can get pretty jealous in general.
“You’re such a wimp! Just do it!!” “No..!” “Oh come on!! They’re perfect! You even thought it!” “Well-! Yes, I did! But-!” “They even love the way I work things! If you want them, you have to get them before someone else does! Have you seen how that other guy was looking at them earlier?!” “I am not doing it.” “What’s that saying? “The worst they can do is say no”? Just do it Kayn!!" “Ugh! Fine! Tomorrow." "Pussy."
Rhaast was Kayn's personal alarm that next morning. He wasn't going to let Kayn forget the plan. Let’s just say he was a bit of a mess when he finally came to you thanks to Rhaast, but when you said yes, he was ecstatic. Kayn struggled trying to keep a straight face when all he can hear is Rhaast yelling triumphantly. That was also the day you realized Rhaast wasn't just his "alter-ego," but rather a whole other person that only Kayn hears and lets out time to time. Well, you did like Kayn, and you did like "not simply an alter-ego" Rhaast, so it worked out.
He definitely tried scaring you a few times. Maybe he succeeded, maybe he didn’t, but he’s done a handful of things to you and others to try and get a reaction. Maybe you grew a resistance to it overtime and your reactions gradually changed.
Rhaast does let you snap some pretty cool photos of him which probably includes him doing dangerous stunts. Still, seeing him go do what he loves to do without anything to stop him was nice. That didn’t stop you from being worried if he’ll actually get hurt, though. He sometimes teases you on that. To be fair, he does this all the time and comes out unscathed.
Heading towards your next destination (which would be wherever they had agreed to celebrate his birthday) had to be done with the two of you doing in different routes so that attention wasn’t drawn to either of you, or to you specifically. Wouldn’t want too many speculations now, though it is fun to see the fans create their own thoughts on the matter. They were either entirely wrong, or they were so close to the truth. You were going to meet up again a few blocks from the location, and of course, he was there first waiting for you in a wall just to kind of surprise you. You were greeted by Kayn instead of Rhaast, and he lifts the mask on your face to give you a kiss.
“Hey there gorgeous~” “Hey yourself. Were you just standing in that wall the entire time?” “Guilty as charged. You’re so slow.” “Says the one who can walk in walls.” “Yeah, but you love it when I do it.”
Serves as good time to just walk and chat now that you’re away from the crowd. Most people, and kids, would be at home and maybe sleeping by now, so the streets are rather empty.
“Not that I’m complaining, but are you here because Rhaast is tired?” “If I let Rhaast drink to his heart’s content, none of us will be going home.” “Since when did that ever stop you?” “Yeah… But Yone won’t be letting me off the hook, so I’m unfortunately at a limit.” “And on your birthday. What a shame.”
Whether this is your first time meeting the rest of Heartsteel or not, it’s safe to say you get along with them fairly well. Ezreal wanted all the details, but gets cut off by Kayn who would pull you away from him. K’Sante and Alune are always fun to talk to, so if things get too rowdy, you can run to them and chat for a while.
You’ve spotted Aphelios taking pictures of some stuff happening, like how Kayn and Ezreal are still bickering which he’ll post somewhere later. He’ll probably go to you to show you some photos he took of the others a few days or weeks prior. There was even a photo of Aphelios and Kayn beating Sett with plushies and pillows (Ezreal took the photo). He’ll send it to you if you ask.
You know those little charms he has on his belt of Rhaast and his shadow assassin form? Your gift to him were matching charms of you and him. He wears the charm of you with so much pride, he loves it so much. You're even placed between the two he already had. No one would suspect a thing either if they see your little charm of Kayn. It's normal for people to have silly pins and charms of their favorite artist, and if anyone asks where you got it from, just say you made it yourself. It wasn't a lie after all.
It’s safe to say both Kayn and Rhaast had fun on their 48 hour birthday.
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steddiealltheway · 11 months
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@steddie-week day 1: hunger / pining / Somebody to Love by Queen
"I'm going to murder Steve if he tries to flirt hopelessly with another girl when he likes Eddie," Robin says with a groan.
"Keep your hands still," Nancy gently reminds Robin as she paints another black layer on her nails. "Does Steve know that he likes Eddie?" Nancy asks with a laugh.
Robin resists the urge to use her hands to speak. "No! But even you have seen the pining. I thought he was going to have a meltdown when he saw Gareth jokingly flirt with Eddie."
Nancy blows on Robin's nails before frowning and scraping off some polish that got on her fingers. "Maybe Gareth is in love with Eddie," Nancy jokes.
Robin laughs. "He's been asking me if you're single for months now."
"If only he knew..." Nancy says with a wide smile before laying a kiss on her girlfriend's hand. "But hey, I'm dealing with Eddie who is hopelessly trying to get over his crush on Steve. He would be willing to be set up with anyone, I swear."
Robin throws her hands up. "That's it!"
"Robin your nails-"
"We set them up on a blind date. Steve has been trying to get me to find someone for him forever now, and Eddie wants the same thing from you! It can be operation... Find Them Somebody to Love."
"You just got that from my Queen tape."
"But it's a great plan!" Robin says with a victorious smile. She holds out her hand to shake on it.
Nancy rolls her eyes and shakes Robin's hand. "If this works, I'll repaint your nails."
Robin's brow furrows. "What do you mean..." she trails off as she looks at them.
"There's some in your hair," Nancy says with a wince.
Robin starts to scrape the paint off. "You call Eddie while I get this off."
Nancy watches her struggle for a moment before handing her some nail polish remover. "I hope this works for our sake."
-:-:-:-:-:-
To say Steve is surprised when Robin excitedly calls him to set him up with someone is an understatement. He may be a bit clueless and naive, but he knows when she's up to something. But maybe she's excited and thinks it's just a really good match, but he thinks that's just the hopeless romantic in him talking.
He also thinks it's strange that the date is at a burger joint that Eddie really likes, but maybe Eddie helped Robin with the date? He really hopes not but doesn't know why. He also knows that maybe the burger joint is a coincidence and the Eddie thought is just because Steve can't stop thinking about him.
It's weird. He's never really had a friend like him before, but he thinks it's part of the trauma bonding that makes Steve feel so intensely about him. But it's different from Robin it's... he doesn't know.
But he doesn't have much time to think about it as he parks outside the food joint. Time to lay on the Harrington charm.
As he walks in he notices only one table that has one person at it. The girl is facing away from Steve in a booth, her long dark curly hair being the only thing visible. She's definitely Steve's type.
As Steve approaches the table he runs a hand through his hair and tries not to think about how she has hair like Eddie's. As he turns to the girl with his most charming smile, it quickly turns into a real smile. "Eddie?" Steve asks.
Eddie's head snaps up and multiple emotions cross over his face as he takes in Steve. "Steve? What are you doing here?"
"Blind date, and you?"
Eddie replies, "Same here, man. Nancy set me up."
Steve tries to ignore the way his heart seems to break. He gives Eddie a smile but it's too tight and entirely fake. "Robin set me up, but hey, that's great, Munson." Steve goes as far as patting Eddie on the back which makes him internally cringe. What's happening?
Eddie slowly glances at Steve's arm and gives it a confused look as his hand still stays on his back. "Right, sorry," Steve apologizes and feels entirely not like himself. Why is he so damn nervous? "But hey, what if I waited here with you until our dates come and we can keep each other company?"
It looks like Eddie wants to say no, but Steve is already sliding into the booth. Eddies just continues to stare at Steve as if he's the last person he wants to see at the moment. Steve ignores those signs and continues talking, "So a blind date? I didn't know you were looking for someone."
Eddie huffs and looks down at the table. "I'm not really looking for someone, I'm just trying to get over someone."
Steve feels that familiar pang in his chest. "Someone I know?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Eddie mutters. Steve just nods because he has no idea what that means. Eddie continues, "I didn't want to like this guy, but it just kind of happened. And they're incredible and way out of my league, so here I am. But they're somehow just always around..." Eddie trails off staring at Steve.
He almost feels like Eddie is trying to hint at something, but he isn't sure what. "I've been there. It took me a while to get over Nance, but eventually with time it happened. But hey, I don't know how someone could be out of your league, man. I mean you're really uh... well," Steve takes a moment to really look at Eddie and he weirdly feels his cheeks heat up, "You've got really nice eyes, and hair of course, and nice... lips."
Eddie squirms a bit in his seat and glances away. "You don't have to take pity on me, Harrington."
"I'm not!" Steve insists a little louder than he intends to. He lowers his voice and repeats, "I'm not. I'm just stating the facts. You're a really attractive guy. Plus, you're really smart and creative, and you can play the guitar well which I'm sure other guys dig, and you're also uhh really funny and kind-"
"Please stop, there's only so many words of affirmation I can receive in a day before I combust," Eddie jokes but there's a light flush on his face.
Steve holds his hands up and says, "I'm just saying you're a catch. Anyone who doesn't see that isn't good enough for you anyways."
Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve for a moment then glances over his shoulder. "So, uh, doesn't look like our dates are here yet."
Steve glances around and notices no one is sitting alone and no one else has walked in. Weird.
A waiter walks their way and takes their drink orders and gives them a few more minutes to look over the menu. As soon as he's out of earshot, Steve asks Eddie, "Do you think it's rude to put in an order when they're not here?"
Eddie glances around and his eyes settle on the wall. Steve looks over and notices the clock. "If they're not here in the next ten minutes which is fifteen minutes after the date start time, then we can order," Eddie states.
Steve smiles but suddenly his stomach makes an obnoxious growling noise. Eddie's eyes widen. "We can make that five minutes if you'll last that long."
"I can last ten minutes it's alright," Steve replies.
Two minutes later, Steve is already giving in, "Okay, what if we just ordered when the waiter comes back?"
Eddie smiles at him for the first time that evening. "You're weak, Harrington," he jokes.
"Hey, I was strong enough to lug your body around."
"If only I was conscious for that."
Before Steve can think of a response their lovely waiter interrupts them and asks for their order. Steve ends up ordering the same thing as Eddie which has Eddie scoffing, "I thought you thought my taste in food was bad."
"If putting strawberry jelly on a turkey sandwich is your idea of food, then I stand by what I said."
"I'm going to make you try it one day," Eddie says with a wide smile.
Steve leans forwards. "Is that a threat?"
"If you want it to be," Eddie says with a wink.
Steve laughs and has the sudden thought that he really doesn't want his or Eddie's dates to show up. He just wants Eddie to himself.
What?
"What, are you traumatized by the thought of it or something?" Eddie asks after Steve has gone silent.
Steve looks up and really takes in Eddie again. You're a catch. Anyone who doesn't see that isn't good enough for you anyways.
Oh shit.
Steve glances towards the door and outside and doesn't see any cars approaching. He looks back to Eddie and says, "If our dates don't show up in the next five minutes, what if we agreed to be each other's date."
Eddie looks at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. "As in... we're just like... hanging out or...?"
Steve takes a deep breath and says, "A real date."
Eddie's eyes widen and he looks around. "The kids didn't put you up to this, did they?"
"No, Eddie, I- I would really like to go on a real date with you."
Eddie stares at him again then asks, "You swear that this isn't a joke?"
"On Dustin's mother," Steve jokes then holds out his pinky.
"You know how much a pinky promise means to me."
"I know, it's a promise that can never be broken," Steve says.
Eddie hesitates then wraps his pinky around Steve's. "I hope our dates don't show up then," Eddie says with a big smile.
"Me neither," Steve agrees.
-:-:-:-:-:-
"I can't believe it's working!" Robin excitedly shouts from the passenger seat of Nancy's car.
"Me either," Nancy agrees as she watches Eddie rant while flailing his hands and Steve laughs. After a moment, Steve rests his hand over one of Eddie's and gives it a squeeze. Eddie flushes enough that Robin and Nancy can notice from the slight distance.
"Do you think they're going to kill us when they see us?" Robin asks.
Nancy scoffs, "No, they'll probably be over the moon thanking us. I'm just surprised that they agreed to go along with the date without thinking we were pranking them or something."
"Maybe the dinguses just finally sucked it up and admitted they liked each other when they figured out the plan," Robin says with a shrug as she watches the two get up. "And it looks like it's our time to leave."
Nancy shakes her head and looks at Robin. "Wouldn't that draw more attention to us though? We should just let them go first while they're so absorbed in each other's company."
"That's a good ide-" Robin stops as she looks back at the pair. "They've spotted us. Shit."
"Like I said, they're probably going to thank us," Nancy says, praying she's right. She rolls down the window as they approach.
Steve waves with a big smile. "Hey! We thought it was you, but we just wanted to let you know that your dates for us stood us up, but that's okay. Great really because Eddie and I decided you know..."
"I finally confessed that I've been pining after him," Eddie says nearly bouncing up and down.
Steve turns to look at him. "Wait, the person you said was out of your league, that was me you were talking about me earlier?"
"Steve, I thought you realized that after I told you I've had a crush on you for years now."
"Oh. Hey, I'm not out of your league at all, if anything you're out of my..." Steve trails off and seems to realize Robin and Nancy are still there, "Well, we're going to make up for lost time, but it was good seeing you. Thank you for attempting to set us up!"
Eddie and Steve wave as they leave, laughing about something moments later.
"Oh my god, did they just...."
"Holy shit, do they really think..."
Robin and Nancy look at each other and nod. "Dingues," they agree.
They look back as Steve and Eddie seem to argue about what car to take back and Robin sighs, "They'll eventually realize, right?"
"I doubt it," Nancy says.
Steve and Eddie walk towards their own cars seeming to realize that they don't have to drive together. "Gosh, they were made for each other."
It's years down the line when Steve and Eddie are telling the story of their first date when Nancy and Robin finally get fed up and tell the truth, but Steve and Eddie still don't believe them. Once a dingus, always a dingus.
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zepskies · 2 months
Text
Take Me Home - Part 2
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…
(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)
Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company
Word Count: 5,200
Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay
Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.
Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.
Unstoppable force meets immovable object.
However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.
He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.
“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.”
There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.
You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.
It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.
“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”
“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.
You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.
Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.
“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.
“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.
“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”
“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”
“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.
You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)
Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.
Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.
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Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.
You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)
So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.
You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.
“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six. 
While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.
So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.
You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”
You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.
You were that, and angry.
“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”
He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.
You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.
“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”
“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.
“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”
That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.
“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”
Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.
Freakin’ fine by you.
You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.
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In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.
Especially after how you and Mary left things.
You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.
There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.
It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.
All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.
“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.
It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.
“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.
Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?
Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.
“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.
“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.
Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.
She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.
Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.
“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.
She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.
“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”
You all nodded in understanding.
It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.
That, you could get on board with.
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You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.
You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…
Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.
Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.
“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”
You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”
He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”
You laughed more genuinely.
“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.
There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.
This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.
And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.
That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.
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After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.
“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”
She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”
“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”
Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.
“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”
Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.
“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.
“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”
It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.
After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.
“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”
“Where’re you going?” you asked.
“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”
“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”
“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.
Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”
“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.
Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.
“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”
You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.
“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.
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Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.
All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.
“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”
You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.
“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.
Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”
“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.
You couldn’t help but approach them.
“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”
You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”
Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.
“Everyone ready?” she asked.
“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”
Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.
“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.
“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.
“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”
Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”
“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”
Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.
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You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.
The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.
“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.
Now you were lost.
You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.
Shiiiit. This was very bad.
You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.
The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.
A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.
“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.
“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.
“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”
You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.
“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”
Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”
You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.
“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.
You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.
They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.
Suddenly, Emily stopped short.
“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.
That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.
You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.
“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.
“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”
You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.
You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.
Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.
“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.
You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.
“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.
“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”
This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.
“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”
Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…
“Show me.”
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Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.
Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.
Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.
Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.
“Thank you,” she said.
You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.
She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”
She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.
“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.
“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”
“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.
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It was another hour before the police arrived.
You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.
You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.
You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.
You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.
A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.
Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.
Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…
“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”
You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.
“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.
“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.
You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.
“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.
“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.
“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.
Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.
“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”
You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.
“I’m sorry she had to see…”
Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.
“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”
You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.
“Best friend, since college,” you said.
Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.
When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.
“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”
By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.
“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”
You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile. 
“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”
You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled. 
“It’s okay,” you said. 
But it wasn’t. Nothing was. 
You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.
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AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...
Next Time:
“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”
Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.
Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.
“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 
You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
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ghostandsoap · 10 months
Text
Double-Sided
John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader
Tags: Angst. Momma Peach and Poppa Price fight in front of the “kids.”
Word Count: 4.8k
“I would’ve if you had let me.”
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She had been at it for hours.
She had a side stitch from standing for so long and the splitting pain in her head was only getting worse with each passing moment. The stress and tension of the room didn’t help, but there was no way she was giving in. 
She could do this all day, but it was beginning to take a toll on her.
Her brain felt like it was swimming in circles. The same movements repeated in her hand gestures and leg motions, and the same threats and words of venom spit from her mouth as she tried to break the man sitting in the middle of the room.
Apparently, he had the same kind of patience that she did. Besides, it wasn’t like he could go anywhere.
He had stopped trying to fight the restraints of his chair long ago. He wasn’t getting up from where he sat without some outside help, which he most surely wouldn’t be getting. Ghost and Soap had been the ones to wrestle and tie him down, so the odds of him getting loose were slim to none.
It was well into the night. Darkness and stars had painted the sky hours ago. Too bad she and the rest of the Force were stuck inside trying to get answers out of this scumbag, who didn’t show any signs of giving up the information she wanted from him.
Notorious criminal was a basic definition of his character. He and his posse of “colleagues” had been tied to four different chemical warfare incidents in the last several months. “Colleagues” was a term that he so leisurely used, but she hardly considered them to be friendly co-workers. 
He and his crew had designed and created a chemical weapon that had been used in these chemical attacks over the course of the last several months. They had only just now caught up to him, because he was just as good as staying under the radar as he was making his mark. 
Word was that they had sent a “special shipment” of this lab-made weapon to an official location, but the destination was unknown – hence why Peach had been grilling him for half the night at this point. They needed to find the shipment and intercept it before it reached where it was intended to go. A mass exposure to this chemical weapon could mean a lot of damage and fatalities. 
Time wasn’t on her side, and he was stalling and wasting as much of it as he could. 
She was the best interrogator of the team. Each member had their own strengths when it came to squeezing answers out of a person of interest. 
Soap had a certain way with words that could cause the subject to unintentionally give up information. Gaz was cool and convincing, and Price had a temper on him that could shake up pretty much anyone. Ghost was just plain scary – he could merely walk in the room and some people would fold immediately.
But Peach had a little bit of it all. She was convincing and smooth, but could also turn angry and loud. She had it down to a science, but this was her hardest attempt yet. 
Usually she slapped them around a little bit. It sped up the process and you wouldn’t believe the people that caved just because they didn’t want to be beat up by such a sweet-looking woman. Other times though, it slowed everything down. It was a risk that usually had to be weighed once she was in the middle of things and had scoped it out.
But Price had given her once simple command before she began her interrogation.
“Whatever you do, don’t lay a finger on him.”
She had whined and protested, begging her Captain to give her the freedom to get her hands bloody if she needed it. It wasn’t like she ever really hurt anybody that bad. She could control herself much more than if Price went in there and put his hands on the guy.
Still, John feared that if she used her knuckles instead of her head, then they’d never get anything out of him.
Right now she was trying the convincing approach, although she wasn’t getting anywhere. In the last several hours, she had probably asked him what felt like about 100 questions, and he hadn’t answered a single one. He dodged every question and demand and brushed off every insult, threat, and comment. 
She circled him for what had to have been the millionth time. She was sick of looking at his face, and she could only imagine he was tired of seeing her too.  
“That shipment must be goin’ somewhere real important if you’re this tight lipped about it,” She persuaded, her hands shoving into the pockets of her cargo pants. “Must be headed for someone mighty special.”
There had been a few times where she was positive that he was about to give something up, but then he’d catch himself and change the subject completely. 
“That accent…” He rumbled, and she didn’t even bother resisting to roll her eyes. “You’re a long way from home, huh?”
She could only describe his voice as snakelike. It had a certain pitch to it, and all of his “S” sounds were drawn out like a hiss. 
A few times, she entertained his counter questions. If it brought her closer to getting something out of him, then she didn’t mind giving up some personal information of her own. It was a fair trade off, if you will.
“Haven’t been home in a long time,” She answered. “I can’t seem to ditch the accent.”
“I’d say it suits you.” He shrugged.
This had been the cycle the entire time. She would ask a question and he would change the subject. She was beyond frustrated because nothing was working.
The room that they were in was stuffy. The air was warm, thick, and it felt like she was breathing soup with every inhale she took. Beads of sweat lined her forehead and dripped down the middle of her back, despite the fact that she had stripped down to a tank and her most comfortable set of pants. 
The room was straight out of a movie. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, and there was hardly any real light coming from the singular LED overhead. Based on how it flickered and flashed, it was clear that it had been quite some time since the bulb had been changed.
There was a singular window that offered observation inside, and it connected the adjacent room. The glass was tinted from the inside, so the eyes that were inside, couldn’t see outside.
Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap had been watching this whole time from the opposite side, and they were growing more discouraged by the minute.
“She’s not getting anywhere, Captain. He’s barely said anything useful.” Ghost remarked, who was saying what everyone else was thinking. 
Price sighed. They could only do this for so long before they would just be wasting precious time on a dead end. Price didn’t want to pull her out because that was giving up in her mind. But he couldn’t stand to watch her keep doing this.
While she was hiding it well, he knew she was as distressed as could be on the inside. He had seen her in her more visible moments of stress and anxiety, and he knew she was close to the beginning of a breakdown. 
“Let’s give her another half hour,” Price advised. “Maybe she can turn this around.”
They were all tired. It had been a long day and now they were already well into an even longer night. They needed as much rest as they could possibly get before coming up with a new plan and starting over. They didn’t have enough time to try and do this again. 
It turned out that Price’s extra thirty minutes had dwindled down to about two minutes.
“This is gonna go a whole lot easier if you just tell me now,” Her voice lowered, her tone smooth and dark. “Where’s the shipment bein’ sent to?” 
Of course, he wasn’t going to answer that. She was mean and she was tough, but he had spent years perfecting keeping his cool under this kind of pressure. 
“That Captain of yours has it bad for you, doesn’t he?”
A thunderclap of dread cracked in Price’s chest and vibrated to the rest of his body. If there was one way to set her off, it was to bring him into it. She didn’t totally lose it right away, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was close by that comment alone.
John knew better than to look at Soap, Ghost or Gaz, but he knew they were watching him like a hawk. They were waiting for a reaction, but they surely weren’t going to get one. 
“Not a word.” Price instructed, still staring ahead through the dirty glass.
They all jumped, quickly looking in different directions as if they hadn’t been waiting for some kind of tell that this guy was getting under his skin.
It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Peach and Price had been seeing each other. They weren’t really trying to hide it, but they also weren’t going out of their way to share it publicly. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were curious, but too afraid to ask. They were entitled to privacy, but it didn’t stop them from being nosy.
“What makes you say that?” She dared to ask through almost bared teeth.
“It’s in his eyes. He doesn’t look at his men the way he looks at you,” He said. “How long has that been going on?”
“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.” She growled, and her pupils were expanded the way they were every time she was heated. 
This wasn’t going anywhere good. The second she laid hands on him, this entire thing was going to be blown.
“She’s gettin’ angry, Captain.” Soap advised, which was more of a warning than anything.
“Not yet.” Price held up a hand, giving her up until the last possible second to get something. 
She remembered John’s words. It was imperative to find out where the chemical weapon was going. There was no telling what they were planning to do with it and what kind of mass effect it would have. She couldn’t be the one to jeopardize that. She knew that entertaining his nagging questions would only make things worse.
“Where’s the shipment going?” She asked one final time.
He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his words rolling off in his most sinister tone.
“Fuck you.”
Shit.
Price saw the fire explode in her eyes, and he knew to react before she had a chance to.
“Ghost. Get her.” Price ordered immediately.
Ghost was swift on his feet, entering the room and snatching Peach up before she even had a chance to do or say anything else. He hoisted her off the ground, ignoring her wriggling and shrills of protest. A blast of cold air hit her when he carried her back into the next room, which was barely helpful to her boiling blood.
Ghost wrestled to set her back on her feet, but kept a strong arm around her to fight her attempts to get back in the other room. She shrieked and pleaded for Ghost to let her go, and the good Captain only stepped in when Soap and Gaz had to assist Ghost in holding her down.
“That’s enough,” Price barked. “We’re done here.”
She ripped herself from Ghost’s hold at the sound of John’s voice, giving him a look so cold that it sent a shudder down his spine. Her anger was now laser focused on Captain Price, who wasn’t looking forward to the argument that was undoubtedly about to unfold.
“Let me at him, John, he’s gotta give in sometime.” She hissed, strands of her hair sticking to her damp forehead and the back of her neck.
He didn’t want to fight. He hated fighting with her. He especially didn’t want to get into a squabble with her in front of the rest of the team. But right now, he needed to be her captain first. This was her captain speaking, not her lover. 
This was one of those moments where it was unexplainably hard to be both.
He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she was doing everything that she could. He could praise her for her determination and hard work. At the same time, he couldn’t just sit and watch her work herself to death, especially for no reward. There was much more at stake, and her pride getting a little damaged was better than wasting all of her time trying to crack this nut. 
He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door in case she tried to force her way back inside. 
“You’re done for the night,” John commanded. “You’re not getting anywhere with him.”
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were standing aside, watching and listening without saying a word. It wasn’t often that Peach and Price got into it like this. But when they did, they knew not to interject or intervene.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She stood in front of him, her eyes squinted and jaw clenched as her accent drew thicker. 
Fire was burning in her eyes. The outline of the vein in her forehead was showing under her skin as her cheeks grew hotter with each passing second. 
He knew that she would take that the wrong way. He wasn’t insulting her attempt or her work, but she surely took it that way. She was tired from being up so long, irritated by the suspect’s behavior, and disappointed that all of this was for nothing. 
But at the moment, that wasn’t Price’s understanding of the situation. All he knew was that she was angry and questioning his judgment in front of his team, and he had to match her tone. 
“It means that this is a waste of time,” His voice grew louder, cheeks burning red. “We can’t afford any more dead ends.”
“And what do you suppose that I do in the meantime?” She challenged him, something she rarely ever did.
“You need to take a break. Get some rest. We’ll reconvene in the morning,” John barked. “That’s an order.”
She didn’t like that at all. She was determined to keep at this until she physically couldn’t anymore. This was just too important to give up on now. She shook her head in disbelief, a mixture of fury and disappointment causing her to be so vicious. 
She could stand here and argue with him for the rest of the night, but if there was anything that she knew would be a waste of time, it was arguing with John Price. 
“Yes, Captain.” She hissed, those two simple words dripping with venom as she pushed past him. 
He sighed as she stalked out of the room, no doubt going to find the furthest place to get some sleep. Price knew better than that though. She would be up the rest of the night stewing over this, prematurely blaming herself for something that hadn’t happened yet. 
He was already feeling guilty for his reaction. He knew better than to blow up at anyone like that…especially her. He was tired, she was tired, everybody was tired. His emotions in a state of exhaustion and irritability had gotten the best of him.
He knew what he needed to do – cool off and go fix this.
Ghost was the first one to speak up when he realized they really were finished for the night.
“What about him?” Ghost asked, tilting his head to reference the terrorist that was still tied down. 
“Leave him. He’s not going anywhere.” 
That was Price’s way of telling him that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with a criminal right now. That was also Price’s way of telling the three of them that they could do whatever they pleased with him at this point. Price didn’t ask any questions about what they intended to do with him. He didn’t need to know, and he trusted that they would leave him intact enough so he would see his day in the clink.
Price had other matters to tend to. A clammed up suspect wasn’t worth his time. Everybody needed to regroup and come up with a new strategy when the new day came around. 
Rest, reconcile, and regroup. That was his to-do list. He emphasized the second one, but cooling off needed to come first.
He left Ghost, Soap, and Gaz to their own devices, trudging off to find a quiet place to collect himself.
***
If there was one place that Price always knew where to look for her, it was the infirmary.
She was the only one of the team that was trained and qualified enough to effectively utilize the space. Most people avoided it, considering the times that they were there were usually because they were injured or coming down with something. Needless to say that, other than her, it wasn’t likely to catch anybody hanging around there for fun.
She excelled there. It was her main place of work and where her skills were most useful and appreciated. She was talented in many other ways, but her medical knowledge was just so precious and priceless. The force could scrape by without having someone who was perfectly trained in combat or computer hacking. But without a medic? Success was highly unlikely.
The infirmary was where she felt the most useful. She felt almost…safe there.
He knew that’s where she would be. She was probably standing at one of the cabinets, taking all of its contents out and organizing them back inside again. 
It was a meaningless task, just something to occupy her hands while her brain circled around itself. She would do this over and over until every corner of every box was flawlessly lined up and every label on every bottle was centered with the front of the cabinet. It was just to distract herself, and an attempt to keep her real feelings at bay. 
Not to mention, she was unbelievably angry with her captain.
John knew that she wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him. He prepared himself for another fight as he navigated his way to the infirmary. She would never yell or scream at him, but her voice always turned ice cold and stern when she was upset. He found that to be worse. He’d rather her scream in his face – that way he’d have no question about how she was feeling.
She also wasn’t one to talk about things right away. She liked time to simmer on it and at least cool off a little before talking it out. He had waited around 45 minutes before seeking her out. 45 minutes was all he could stand. The anxiety and anticipation of knowing she was alone and seething to herself was unbearable for him. 
While he was desperate to get this resolved, he also had to stand firm in his decision to pull her out of the interrogation. It might’ve upset her as his girlfriend, but it was the right move as her captain. He could acknowledge her disapproval while also defending his decision. 
He turned a corner and immediately noticed a glow of light coming from the open doorway of the infirmary. He could feel the energy from here. She certainly wasn’t in the best mood.
Nonetheless, he would rather have a conversation than move on without discussing it. 
Sure enough, there she was – facing the cabinet on the back wall, lining up boxes of gauze pads and organizing bottles of disinfectant. He could practically see the steam hissing out of her ears, like her head would blow off of her shoulders at any moment. 
He leaned against the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and his feet crossed over one another. She was oblivious to him standing there, another sign that her focus was elsewhere. He took a calming breath to recenter himself before he made himself known.
“Hey, Peach.” He kept a neutral tone.
Her shoulders squared and straightened at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t expecting to see him again tonight, not after that little fallout they just had. 
Her hands had paused on the box of gauze in her hands, her eyes trained on the print on the cardboard cover. 
“Captain.” She said. 
He ignored the sting in his chest and the annoyance that came from her not using his name. This was one of those times where he was here both as a boss and as a boyfriend. Those moments were pretty rare, and he very much preferred being one or the other. 
“I thought I told you to take a break.” He said coolly, more as small talk than anything. 
“Not tired,” She half-lied. She was tired, but wouldn’t have been able to sleep though. “Where are the boys?”
He couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always referred to Ghost, Soap, and Gaz as “the boys” like they were her kids. It was ironic because she was younger than both Soap and Ghost, but somehow all of them saw her as motherly at certain times. 
“Soap and Gaz hit the sack,” He said. “I think Ghost is dealing with our perpetrator.” 
Price reached into the inside of his jacket, locating the pack of cigarettes that he stashed there. After today, he needed something to take the edge off. He slid a cigarette from the pack, settling it between his lips while he fished around in his pants pocket for his lighter.
“Guess he was better for the job then?” She grumbled, her back still towards him. “And don’t you dare light that cigarette.”
Price’s thumb had just set on the spark wheel with not even enough time to push it down to ignite the butane inside. She was always on him about his smoking habit. He knew all the health risks and concerns that came from smoking (she had explained them to him many times), but never were they enough to motivate him to kick his habit completely.
Nonetheless, he placed the cigarette back into the pack and stored them with his lighter for safekeeping. 
“It had nothing to do with that. You were just as suited and prepared for it.” He answered.
I guess we’re getting right into it then. He thought to himself.
“Then why’d you pull me out?” She set the box in the cabinet and closed the door.
Her tone wasn’t as firm now, but it still had a certain chill to it. 
“It was all part of his plan. He was going to wear you out until we were out of time.” He remarked.
She shook her head, an incredulous smile spreading across her features. She finally turned to him, her eyes meeting his from across the room. He had calmed down much more than she had, but she didn’t look like she was close to combusting anymore.
“You have absolutely zero faith in me.” She said.
His stance changed, his legs straightening out as he fully entered the room. 
“Come on, Peaches. You know it isn’t that,” He pleaded. “We’re running out of time. I couldn’t risk using it all on a dead end suspect.”
He was closer to her now. He could read her better if he was close. 
“If it had been Soap, you wouldn’t have pulled him out.” She grumbled.
“That’s not true,” He became more determined, but his voice remained normal. “I was looking out for you and for the best interest of this team.”
Her pupils dilated, a quick surge of vexation flashing over her irises. 
“I’m not soft, John. I don’t need you takin’ care of me.” She huffed.
At least we’re back to first names.
“I know that. I’ve never thought of you as anything other than independent and perfectly capable. And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise,” He defended. “But I’m your captain. It’s my job to keep this team safe and in line. That includes you.”
She almost rolled her eyes. How could he act like she didn’t already know that? She had a response ready, but he went on before she could say it.
“I made a judgment call because I was worried about you, and I saw that what he was doing was sabotaging what we’re trying to do,” He proclaimed. “You have the right to be upset over it, but it was the best call. I would’ve made the same choice no matter what. It just so happened that there was a little more emotion involved.”
It wasn’t always easy being both her captain and her lover. As he had said before, it presented some unique challenges that could only be dealt with as they happened. It was only when the two sides blended that things could get tricky. 
It wasn’t always easy for her either. Over time, she had learned to know when to treat him as a respected captain and when to love up on him as her romantic partner. She just had to understand that there were going to be times where his care for her was going to overlap with how he treated her professionally.
And in all honesty, she knew deep down that he hadn’t dragged her out because he didn’t think she could do it. If he thought that she wasn’t capable, he never would’ve let her do it in the first place. 
“It’s just…” She sighed, a much more serene look glossing over her eyes. “He got the best of me.”
She didn’t lose her temper often. If anything, it was more likely for John to flip his lid. But the stakes were high, the pressure was on, and time was running out…it made sense that an uncooperative criminal pushed her over the edge.
“I know. It’s alright,” He pushed a set of stray hairs from her eyes. “I didn’t want you getting all worked up over it. I need you to have a clear head so we can get this figured out.”
She felt ashamed for lashing out. She was better than losing her composure and confidence over some low life criminal.
She felt remorse for getting in John’s face and nearly cursing him out in front of his team. Her reaction had been uncalled for, and she felt guilty.
“I’m sorry, Captain.” She apologized, the last of the flames in her eyes smothering out completely.
“Oh, come on now, darling,” He took her chin gently between his thumb and index finger, tilting her head forward to press his lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to kill him.”
“I would’ve if you had let me.” She gave a small smile.
He chuckled at that, wrapping one of his arms around her waist.
“I know,” He pressed another kiss to her head. “I find the thought of you killing an international terrorist rather sexy.”
“Is that so?” Her smile grew wider. “Only problem with that is I’ll lose my job if I get caught killin’ him without probable cause. And I like my job.”
“You would never get caught,” He scoffed. “You’re stealthy.”
His arm unwrapped from her waist, his hands coming to gently grip her biceps. He kissed her properly then, his facial hair tickling her skin as she hummed into the kiss. All was well between them. This was hardly any real bump in the road for them. A minor hiccup, at most. 
Price could forgive and forget a little outburst on a terrorist. He would be more concerned if she hadn’t cared so much about this mission.
“How about you get some sleep?” He said when she broke the kiss. “We need to get started as soon as the sun comes up.”
Price’s eyes suddenly started scanning the room, as if he were looking for something. 
“Sure. I’ll finish packin’ the cabinet and I’ll hit the hay,” She smirked, following his eyes. “My medic bag is in that closet. Suckers are in the front pocket. I just restocked the cherry ones.”
A grin spread on his face when he dashed towards the closet that she pointed to. He had a theory that she kept lollipops around not only for people after being treated, but also to keep him from smoking so much. It didn’t really work, but he still appreciated the gesture. 
He stuck around until she was finished, escorting her out of the infirmary and to a decent place to get some rest. He made sure she was comfortable before he turned in for the night as well, but not before finishing his candy treat. 
Although, the lollipop was nothing compared to the relief he felt from making things right.
He felt confident that the answers the team was looking for would be found. And her confidence would return when this was all over and dealt with. She would be successful once more.
And he believed that both as her captain and her lover.
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another-lost-mc · 1 year
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Blasphemy
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When you pray to him, it's not forgiveness you're asking for.
MICHAEL x gn!Reader 1.8k words | NSFW | Obsession | Sexual Themes Content Warnings: Obsessive thoughts, invasion of privacy, suggestive themes and some sexual content. A/N: Read the sequel here.
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It starts when Simeon gives you the lost Ring of Light.
You think it’s a dream at first, the blinding golden-white light that overwhelms your senses. Suddenly a man’s voice, clear as if he was at your side, speaks to you and offers his blessing and good luck. The demon brothers panic later about seeing light from the Celestial Realm spill from your room, and you freeze when you realize the person you spoke to must’ve been Michael himself.
You tell yourself it’s simple curiosity that motivates you to learn more about him. The very mention of Michael’s name brings up so many varied, intense reactions depending on who you talk to. You speak to the angels first. Luke admires him wholeheartedly, but Simeon’s forced smile and carefully guarded answers to the questions you ask make you feel guilty.
It’s more complicated talking to the demons about him. Sometimes, they say his name with cloudy expressions and pursed lips like they just bit into something sour. Other times, they look far-away and try not to smile when they reminisce about events that happened long ago.
Mammon complains to you about Michael’s no-nonsense approach to work and discipline, and Asmodeus tells you some abstract memory about Michael while he paints your nails. He sounds nostalgic when he mentions all the ways Lucifer and Michael are similar, and the ways they’re also completely different.
Lucifer doesn’t talk about Michael very much, but he’ll usually answer your questions so long as they’re vague and not too prying. When he speaks about Michael, he wears the frown of someone that remembers hurting and being hurt by someone he loved, but it was so long ago the pain is a dull throb he can ignore.
No matter what the angels or demons tell you, you can't shake your interest in the archangel that is admired and feared in equal measure. Curiosity turns to fascination, and you feel some ravenous need to learn more. The things you’ve learned about him so far - the awe-inspiring feats, the high expectations he puts on those serving him, the cruel punishments for those who fail him - scare you and captivate you.
You spend more time with Luke who shares his memories of Michael so easily. It’s no wonder Luke enjoys baking so much - he tells you about Michael’s sweet tooth, the things Michael particularly likes to eat and drink the most, and Luke even offers to make some Celestial Realm desserts for you to try. When you eat them, you pretend it brings you closer to him, like you share something in common.
One day when you visit Luke at Purgatory Hall, he casually mentions getting a message from Michael and you nearly choke on your tea. He keeps talking about whatever task he’s been assigned, but your mind is racing. How did you not think of this sooner?
“I forgot my D.D.D. at the House of Lamentation, can I borrow yours?” The lie rolls off your tongue easily and Luke eagerly hands you his device without a second thought. When he runs off to the kitchen to check on lunch, you immediately pull up his chat history with Michael. You don’t have time to read everything properly, so you take as many screenshots of their conversations as you can, and you send them to yourself. When you’re finished, you close the chat app and head to the kitchen to help Luke.
Later that evening, you read and re-read the message history between Luke and Michael. You smile when you read about Luke’s versions of events in the Devildom, often skewed to make the demons look worse than they (usually) are. You’re touched by the way Michael seems to genuinely care for the young angel too. He responds to Luke’s messages with enthusiastic encouragement or gentle reminders to show his demon hosts grace and patience. 
Your eyes widen comically when you come across your name during one of their older conversations, and you feel your cheeks grow warm when you realize they were talking about you.
Luke: They’re so nice! They told me about some human world desserts that sound amazing. I’m going to ask them to teach me one day, if I can get the ingredients.
Michael: They sound like a wonderful friend to you.
Luke: I wish you could meet them!
Michael: Perhaps one day I will.
Those seemingly innocent words shouldn’t have this sort of impact on you. The logical part of your mind knows Michael is probably humoring Luke, grateful that he’s found a friend in the Devildom and happy to see that you’re a positive influence on him. The desperate part of your mind, the one that fixates on those words, reads them almost like a promise. One day you'll be able to see him in person, or perhaps even touch him if you’re brave enough. 
Their conversation lingers in your mind for the next several days, and you can't stop fantasizing about what meeting Michael might be like. The first meetings that you dream about skirt the line of innocent curiosity and unashamed blasphemy. One morning you wake up with your hand between your legs and the name of a faceless angel on your lips when you come. The memory of his voice rings in your ears and you still want more. You’re not sure what it says about you that you don’t feel ashamed at all.
You grow bored of re-reading the same juvenile conversations between Luke and Michael, and you turn your sights to accessing Simeon’s D.D.D. next. Simeon is older than Luke and you know his relationship with Michael is more complicated. You’re not sure if it’ll be as easy to get access to his phone, but fate is on your side.
The next time you visit Purgatory Hall, Simeon comes to see you and Luke in the kitchen. He looks a bit embarrassed and he’s scratching the back of his head while he holds his phone out to you.
“If you’re not busy, do you mind helping me with this?” he asks you a bit sheepishly.
You have to remind yourself not to be too eager when he hands over his device. “Of course! It’s not a problem at all. If you want to finish helping Luke, I can see what the problem is.”
You leave the two angels in the kitchen and retreat to the living room. The problem is obvious - the screen lighting is so dim it’s hard to read, and somehow Simeon changed the default language to some sort of demonic script neither of you understand. They’re both easy things to fix, and that leaves you with a few spare minutes to check his message history.
As you suspected, his conversations with Michael are more mature. They’re less focused on the daily sights that Luke is amazed by, focusing instead on Devildom life and politics. Michael is curious about Diavolo and his fallen brothers most of all. He asks pointed questions and makes subtle comments that seem purposeful if you read between the lines.
One of the more recent conversations he and Simeon had seems serious. You had no idea that Simeon stole the ring he gave you. It’s always difficult to read tone through words alone, but even you can decipher the undercurrent of disappointment and anger in Michael’s messages.
You understand now, with more clarity than ever, that Michael is intelligent, cunning, and should not be crossed. This realization should frighten you and put a quick end to your silly little crush. However, the temptation of forbidden fruit is too much for you to resist, and this knowledge fuels your fascination instead.
When you’re alone in bed at night, you give up all pretenses and surrender to lustful urges. Your thoughts of the mysterious archangel are steeped in lust. You remember the rumbling sound of his voice in your mind, and you can still feel the warmth of the Celestial Realm’s light. If he were to put his hands on you, would he feel that warm too?
It’s so easy to give into the fantasy that it’s his hands moving between your thighs while you touch yourself. You imagine returning to the Celestial Realm and finally meeting him in-person. You picture him towering over you, the embodiment of grace and power and absolute authority. You wonder what you might have to say or do to tempt him.
Thoughts of him - dark, depraved, delightfully sinful thoughts - are enough to push you over the edge while you stroke yourself beneath your sheets. You come once, then again not long after, riding the high of sin and corruption. You try to stop the whimpers and moans that threaten to spill from your lips. Breathy whispers that sound suspiciously like his name break the silence of your room, hushed secrets for your ears alone.
You’re still panting lightly, mind foggy from the pleasurable daze of your last orgasm, when your D.D.D. vibrates on the nightstand next to your bed. It’s an automatic response when you reach for it - with your clean hand, the one that isn’t saturated by the scent of your arousal - and mumble a quiet greeting when you answer. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the demon brothers got himself locked out of the house after partying all night.
“Did you think I would ignore your filthy prayers forever?” the smooth voice on the other line asks you.
Michael. You recognize who it is instantly and sit up in bed.
“Wait, how did you—?” you ask nervously, because how the hell did he get your number?
“You’re not the only one Luke trusts with his belongings,” Michael says knowingly, with a hint of amusement.
Oh no. Has he been watching you this whole time, waiting for your most vulnerable moment to surprise you like this? What does he know? What has he seen, or heard?
You’re completely unprepared for this conversation because he's rendered you speechless. Your mouth opens and closes uselessly while you try to think of something to say. What can you say? You’re excited and embarrassed, and your body warms up suddenly, like it’s on fire. 
He chuckles quietly, like he predicted this reaction from you. Your silence speaks volumes, and you realize you don’t need to say a word for him to understand you perfectly.
“Humans are such fascinating creatures,” Michael’s voice drawls, low and intimate in your ear.
You whimper and try to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise, but it's too late. He chuckles again and he sounds far too pleased with himself. "You were intriguing before, but not many are able to surprise me the way that you have. Perhaps you deserve a reward for your efforts.”
You can’t help but shudder from the lust simmering deep within your belly. Is he trying to sound seductive on purpose? You don’t know and it’s impossible to tell.
It seems like he can read your thoughts because he hums approvingly. “Yes, I think a proper meeting is in order, don’t you agree?”
He doesn’t wait for your answer, and before you can attempt to speak again, the line goes dead.
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faeriichaii · 4 months
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hellooo, i love your writing could i please request angst to fluff where legolas is frustrated and busy he calls reader clingy so the reader sort of distances themselves? no rush ofc but keep up the amazing work 🫶🫶🫶
Words like Poison ~ Legolas x Elf!Reader
A/N: Hii!! Omg thank you so much <33 I haven't written anything with angst in such a long time so I am very very excited haha 🥰Also I hope you don't mind that reader is an elf :) Ngl I accidentally wrote like a bit of a different plot at first and like halfway through I was like 'no this is totally not the request??' So yeah haha I guess I did like 2 in 1 just that the other is only the start of smth and this is like a complete thing :)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit angst ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.1k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ
Summary: Your beloved prince is stressed and busy with his duties. So, when you approach him to try and lighten the mood, he lets his frustration out on you.
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You were walking towards the library of Mirkwood, as you spotted a familiar head of white blonde hair entering said room. Legolas and you have known each other since your childhood. Both of you constantly playing with each other, weaving flower crowns or painting each other some pictures. Even as the two of you grew older, you never ceased to spend time together. Either reading a book or eating some fruits in the garden while enjoying the sun. Or reading about the history of Middle Earth, as well as chores you had to fulfil in your positions. Nothing could stop you two from being with each other and working through it together.
It was only natural that after a while your heart skipped a little more every time you saw him. The warmth that brushed your cheeks every time you two sat a little too close. Or the way the butterflies swirled around in your tummy when he looked at you with his beautiful captivating eyes. It didn’t take Legolas long to notice that your attitude towards him shifted. He also noticed how your smile made his day a little brighter than normal and how your laugh made his body feel warm and content with love.
So, at one beautiful spring evening he asked you if he could braid your hair and of course you obliged. Ever since then the bond between the both of you only strengthened. However, nowadays you rarely catch a glimpse of the elven prince. He was constantly hiding away either in the study room of his father, king Thranduil, or in the library. You haven’t even seen him in a week, so you decided to approach the library and try to find Legolas. Opening the wooden doors, you entered into the enormous room, filled with books and scrolls. Your eyes landed on your prince, who was sitting on one of the many tables. Books were piling up on the side. A smile formed on your lips as you approached him.
“Meleth Nin, I have been missing you.” You said gently, trying not to startle Legolas. His gaze quickly darted to you, before moving back to the book in front of him. “I am sorry, but I really am very busy at the moment.” He said, writing down into the notebook. “I know, but you have been working day and night and I barely got a moment with you.” Pulling out a chair, you sat beside him. Silence settled between the both of you. You pulled out your own book and read a few words, before your attention drifted back to the prince. “If you want to we could go-“ “(Y/N) stop whining around! I told you I was busy and I really can’t deal with your clingy attitude at the moment.” Your lips parted as you felt little cracks form into your heart. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. The lump in your throat prevented you from uttering anything in your defence. Your eyes started to burn slightly as the words Legolas spat into your direction settled into your mind and travelled through your whole body, encasing you in utter sadness and discomfort. Quickly packing your book back into your bag you wiped away the few tears that spilled from your eyes. “I apologize your majesty. I will leave you to it.” No warmth was left in your voice as you turned around and quickly left the library, the soft mutter of your name from Legolas lips following you out.
Days passed and you haven’t seen the prince anywhere. Most of the day you spend cooped up in your chambers, reading or trying to fill the canvas with colour. However, your mind was too jumbled up to remember the sentences on the pages, neither could you focus on what to draw. A sigh left your lips as you decided to take a walk around the beautiful garden of Mirkwood. Walking along the stone path your fingers gently brushed against the petals of the Hortensia bush. Your heart still ached at the harsh words Legolas said and at the distance you tried to keep between the both of you. It was hard not constantly seeing him or sharing your experiences of the day with him. “Meleth Nin…” Your eyes widened as you noticed that Legolas suddenly stood in front of you. His gaze was filled with sadness, as he looked at you. “My prince.” Your tone was cold, as you tried to sidestep him. However, he had something else in mind as he gently grasped your wrist. “Please (Y/N) hear me out.” His hand moved lower from your wrist, in order to entangle his fingers with your own. “I am so sorry about what I said.” Your eyes locked with his own, as you got lost in the beautiful shimmer of them. “I should have never said that you were clingy. Meleth Nin, I love you.” His free hand grasped your cheek gently. Warmth spread from his touch through your body, your heart skipping a beat with glee. You missed Legolas. You missed him dearly.
“I can’t stand the silence between us. I can’t stand that we are apart more than just a few hours. My soul and heart belong to you and I ache for you every second we are apart. Please Meleth Nin, forgive me.” His forehead touched yours, as he leaned towards you. “I love you.” After these words left his lips, you leaned into him and gave him a kiss. Your hands held the back of his neck softly, while his moved from your face to your waist, holding you close. His lips were soft against yours. His touch was gentle, as he lets his finger trail from your waist to your back to pull you even closer. As if he was scared that you might slip through his grasp. “I love you Legolas. But please, never utter these words to me. You hurt me deeply.” You said, after the tow departed from your kiss.
“I will never say something like that to you again. I am sorry, really, I am. I just was so stressed and overwhelmed with the workload my father gave me.” A sigh left his lips, still holding onto you. You put a hand on his cheek, softly stroking his face with your thumb. He leaned into your touch. “I know it has been hard for you, but please tell me if something is going on next time.” A smile graced your lips, as the prince gently nodded before pulling you in for another loving kiss.  
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dantesunbreaker · 5 months
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I don't know if you're doing requests but, it's alright if you're not or if you don't want to do this.
in case you do, though: I've been thinking about the papas with an artist s/o. I'm a painter and my hands are always covered in paint, like, always, and I was thinking about what they would say when they noticed, what they would think about it, you know?
I hope you're having a great day :)
Papas with a Painter S/O
Absolutely! While not as often, I do paint and I always end up getting a decent amount of paint on myself! Hopefully you enjoy these anon! Thank you so much for the request.
Primo
Of all of them, Primo would have the most heartwarming and wholesome response! When he tends his gardens, his hands are similarly stained with dirt from the labor of his passion
“Ah look at you, beautifully colorful, just like the tulips in spring!”
If it is something you are up for, Primo would love for you to paint murals along some of the walls in his garden
Sometimes you bring your easel out to the gardens when the weather is good and the sun is up so you can paint alongside Primo as he tends his garden
While not a strong painter himself, Primo makes his own watercolor paints with the flowers from his garden. On days when nothing needs tending in the garden, Primo will happily paint alongside you
Will laugh if you try rubbing the paint on your hands off onto him, Primo retaliates by rubbing some dirt onto you
Secondo
The tone of Secondo’s response is entirely dependant on where he is and what he is doing at the time
If there is work to be done and you are to approach Secondo with paint coated hands, he will have a more serious stern response. While being as polite but blunt as possible, Secondo will ask that you either keep distance and refrain from touching any of his work, or that you wash your hands before doing so 
Not that Second does not care for your passion for painting! But he already put enough strain on himself that he does not need the added stress of potentially ruining important documents with paint stains
However, any other circumstance, Secondo will smile and will try to be subtle about his excitement as he asks to see what you have been working on
Loves to watch you light up as you talk about your artwork, wants to know every detail, your reasoning for every brushstroke, every color choice
Would never tell a soul, but hearing your story for each painting makes Secondo feel a deeper understanding and connection with you. It makes him fall ever more so in love with you
Do not rub the paint on him. It will make him grumpy and pouty(secretly will find it cute, but does not enjoy cleaning paint out of his suit or robes)
Terzo
Ecstatic whenever he catches you with paint on your hands! You must show him what you are working on at once! Doesn’t even matter if he is meant to be working at the time
Terzo also wants to see and know every little detail about what inspired you to create each piece. If you are passionate about it, Terzo is passionate about your passion for it
Proudly hangs some of your paintings in his office and bedroom
Of course, being a cheeky bastard, Terzo will pull the whole “paint me like one of your French girls”
But really, if you do paint Terzo in any sort of fashion he will be beyond delighted and will insist on showing it to every single person in the ministry
If you touch him with your paint hands, Terzo will insist that you leave a handprint on his butt which he will proudly sport for the rest of the day
Copia
Understands and admires the effort and passion you put into your work, just as he does with his work as Papa...though Copia’s work is far less colorful and messy 
Whenever he catches you with painted covered hands, Copia always feels a bit of excitement as he asks about your latest piece
Though a bit shy and insecure about it, sometimes Copia will ask to come paint with you and have you teach him different techniques. Not that he is expecting to become a painter himself, but he does find it relaxing at times
Always happy to be in the same room together as you paint while he either reads or catches up on paperwork
Acts super proud of your work and will showcase it to his ghouls whenever possible. If you ever have a gallery exhibit, you can guarantee Copia loads up all the ghouls in the van to take them all to see it as a family
Will be shy and flustered if you get paint on him, definitely making numerous Copia noises
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prince-liest · 9 months
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some recent thoughts on Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and why even though I find Nie Mingjue very frustrating in the midst of his Baxia-induced anger issues, I think he’s also a pretty sympathetic character as a whole and it’s really understandable why he thinks the way he does
(as someone who ships 3zun and nieyao, and through the lens of “Jin Guangyao is my blorbo”)
I’ve seen a tendency to paint NMJ and JGY’s relationship in black and white in terms of who was fundamentally more in the right, which to be honest is not really the approach I take to fandom in general. to me the tragedy is that NMJ and JGY before JGY's casting-out had immense respect and perhaps even love (platonic, romantic, whatever) for each other. in the end, a lack of mutual understanding of each others' circumstances that could have otherwise eventually been overcome was driven, by bigotry, Jin Guangshan, and the Nie cultivation style, into becoming an insurmountable difference that eventually killed them both
NMJ definitely Did Not Get where JGY was coming from when JGY was making survival decisions and keeping secrets. he was simply not raised in a way where he ever even had to think about the types of choices that JGY has been forced to make since he was quite young. but at the same time, NMJ was a teenager raising his brother and his sect from a very young age and I think it's a disservice to his character to fail to acknowledge that his entire life he expected to die a young and horrific death, just like he watched his father die, and that this expectation deeply colors his approach to the world. JGY plays the long game. NMJ does not get to think about that, he just has to raise his brother, win a war, and try not to drive his sect into the ground before he kicks the bucket in a violent and gruesome manner. he does not have a choice about any of these things.
and said things are extremely difficult to do, especially as a teenager, which I think is a reflection of MDZS's whole thing where their entire generation is just traumatized by war and conflict and a dearth of genuine, honorable guidance and leadership, which leads to such fractures
but it's also a series of tasks that required the kind of attitude that Nie Mingjue develops, and that in combination with Baxia’s influence gives him this really immovable perspective on life that he just won't budge on with JGY. I think it’s really significant that when Jin Guangyao does regularly play Clarity for NMJ, they get along quite well. and I also think it's really understandable why NMJ is so stubborn and headstrong - he's had to fight his way through being sect leader and not take "no" for an answer, because what the hell else can a young, new leader do to avoid being taken advantage of? frankly even if he had taken up a bit of whatever guile Nie Huaisang didn’t hog from the Nie gene pool... why would he direct it towards self-preservation? he has no room for that kind of fear because he is going to be dead in a few years.
importantly as well, Nie Mingjue unjustly judges Jin Guangyao because he is unable to understand the context that JGY is coming from, but that same righteousness is the reason that he's the first person to have given Meng Yao a fair shake and rewarded his hard work and labor, and that matters a lot to Jin Guangyao and their relationship as a whole. you can’t really have one without the other unless you give Nie Mingjue time to grow up.
unfortunately, Nie Mingjue died his 20s, and was in his teens when the Sunshot Campaign began. look me in the eyes and explain to me what kind of behavior you expect from a 20-something with a magic rage sword.
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thebestofoneshots · 19 days
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
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Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Wednesday, December 23rd
The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials. 
At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day. 
And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right? 
“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends. 
You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite. 
“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.” 
“Well, does he colour his drawings?” 
You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.” 
“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?” 
Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.” 
“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.” 
“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.” 
“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches. 
They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available. 
“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.” 
“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette. 
“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?” 
“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?
“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?” 
You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.” 
“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled. 
“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?” 
“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.” 
“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile. 
“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?” 
“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over. 
As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” 
“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box. 
“Would you like me to call you a cab?” 
You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”
The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited. 
When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?” 
No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room. 
There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak. 
We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.
You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room. 
That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire. 
“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney. 
“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?” 
“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.” 
“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.” 
You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed. 
Thursday, December 24th
There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.” 
“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles. 
The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people.  Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative. 
“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s. 
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed. 
By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.” 
Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.  
“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”  
You frowned at that, that had never been your intention. 
“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–” 
“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you. 
“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”
“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile. 
“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.” 
You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.
“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued. 
You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.
When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof. 
Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on. 
“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.” 
“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?” 
“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.” 
“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question. 
“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.” 
“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.” 
“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”
Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.” 
“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.” 
“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way? 
You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love. 
When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether? 
“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 
You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”
Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.” 
“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”
Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks. 
You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water. 
Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime.  Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still.  Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast.  Your bestest friend, James P.  PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff.  PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius. 
James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.  
You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning. 
You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’. 
It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites. 
And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.
When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him. 
You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read. 
You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all. 
Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’. 
Friday, December 25th
You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl. 
“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again. 
You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments. 
“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?” 
The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been. 
Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left. 
Merry Christmas Star Seeker,  Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended!  Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.
You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours. 
Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play,   Love,  The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha. 
You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny. 
You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it:  “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable. 
And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh. 
When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting. 
You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles,  dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily
You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open. 
You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions. 
There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while. 
It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?” 
You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note. 
Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder.  You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts.  AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it.  Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas!  Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend,  Prongs. 
You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant. 
After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first. 
You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself.  Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.
You laughed, he’s not wrong. 
Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean.  As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter.  You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want.  All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift.  Love,  Sirius 
See the letter here
You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered. 
There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel. 
There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French: 
À l'étoile la plus brillante.  Amour, 
And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you. 
Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that. 
You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting. 
Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift. 
As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter. 
Hey there, Little Witch,  Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that.  I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he?  Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own.  Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes.  There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too.  Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it.  Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true.  Love,  Moony.  PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.
See the letter here
By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made. 
He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy. 
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.  
“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve. 
You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to. 
You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents. 
“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen. 
“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case. 
You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck. 
One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room. 
“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room. 
You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings. 
“We’ll take the floo?” you asked. 
Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle. 
“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party. 
“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.” 
The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.
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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx
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tilebytiles · 2 months
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When the Sun Goes Down (Alex Turner x Reader) - Part 1
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summary: your favorite barista is ... a vampire?
word count: 5k
warnings: animal death, mild violence
You didn't like going to the café near your flat much. For one, finding the energy to even drag yourself out of bed was difficult most days, but topping that off with interacting with and being surrounded by complete strangers? It was like a circle of Hell reserved for the socially inept and the painfully anxious. Still, you couldn't deny that the barista that made your drink nearly every time you did go there made it worth it.
You were pretty sure his name was Alex; you had never thought to read his name tag properly, since you thought it would be weird if you barreled in, going, "Hey, Alex, get me that mocha latte! And make it with oat milk!" However, the brief glimpses you'd gotten out of the corner of your eye told you his name, if it wasn't Alex, for sure started with an A. Andrew? Anthony? Adam? Aidan? Alan? None of those really fit him, and the first two didn't even seem like they'd fit on his name tag. Alex seemed the most appropriate.
It wasn't like you two had spoken beyond formalities. You came in, exchanged the usual greetings, recited your order, and then he asked for payment and called your name once your coffee was ready. That was the most you ever spoke to one another. You, being so socially awkward that even your therapist cringed on your behalf sometimes, could never work up the courage to go beyond the script you two had developed. You wanted to- he seemed interesting. His hair sat a bit shaggily on his head, getting in his eyes sometimes and only being restrained by the hat all of the baristas had to wear. He had big brown eyes and arguably one of the prettiest smiles you'd ever seen.
The barista that was possibly named Alex had been the subject of a number of artworks, some being simple sketches and some being full-fledged paintings. There had been a couple of times where you'd gone to the café just to study him. You were aware it was all probably quite creepy, but in your defence, he was an easy subject to study and also your favourite. Everyone was made differently, you were well aware, but you didn't think you'd ever seen anyone that looked like him. The fact that he was so unique made you want to devote entire sketchbooks to studies of him. Besides, no one except you ever saw the pages of your sketchbooks or the canvases lying around your flat, so it wasn't like you were trying to get attention from his likeness. It was mostly just for your own enjoyment.
"Y/N?" The sound of your name being called made you jump a bit, and the pen you'd been mindlessly sketching with jutted across the paper awkwardly. You dropped the pen onto your sketchbook and got up from your table, heading to the counter. As you approached, you made sure to read his nametag this time- it was Alex.
You took the portable cup from him, and even with the sleeve it sat in, it still warmed your previously cold hands up. Your name was scrawled on the sleeve in the handwriting you'd come to recognise rather quickly. You smiled at him. "Thank you. You could have just left it on the counter, you know."
He returned your smile and shook his head a little. "Nah, it's alright," he said. "I just don't want a repeat of the time your coffee almost got stolen."
Brief glimpses of Alex trying to get the attention of the customer that had taken your coffee, mistaking your name for hers, without being any louder than he had to flashed through your mind, and you had to stifle a laugh. You'd felt bad for him- you could tell he wasn't the greatest in social situations, either, even as a barista, and since he couldn't really leave his spot behind the counter, he was left awkwardly calling, "Ma'am? Um, ma'am, excuse me- ma'am?" until she finally turned around and realised he was talking to her.
"So," he said, shifting his hat atop his head, "will you ever show me what's in that sketchbook?"
He'd seen you with it before, and he'd asked about it, too. You had been vague every time, too embarrassed by the idea of him opening it just to find dozens of sketches of his face from all angles. There were a few full-body sketches, and you used those to draw out different outfits on him; you wondered what he'd look like in a suit, or clad in leather, or in a cosy jumper. You imagined him in different poses, too; crouching, kneeling, sitting thoughtfully with his head in his hand, leaning against a wall. Some of the sketches had the privilege of being coloured in, but the rest were just line drawings with some shading.
You sighed. "Probably not."
His lower lip jutted out in what you guessed to be a pout. "Why not?"
"It's not very interesting. I don't know why you want to see it."
"Because I'm sure you're a great artist."
You snorted at that. "Just drop it, please."
He didn't. Instead, his pout only seemed to intensify, and his eyes practically glimmered in the light. You couldn't tell if they were just naturally that way, or if he was about to start crying. "Please?"
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to fight his pleading, but it was no use. You groaned and said, "Fine."
His face did a complete 180, and he practically beamed at you. "Thank you."
You quickly looked away before you started staring.
You remained in the café for the rest of the day, something you’d only done once before. It felt a bit strange to watch customers come and go, come and go, come and go, and then just go. About twenty minutes before closing, you began packing up your things to head home. You hadn’t brought much; just your bag, your sketchbook and a few different pens. Your coffee cup had long since been drained, and you made sure to throw it away before heading out the door, a small chime signalling your departure.
You made a swift left and went down the sidewalk, subconsciously avoiding any cracks you encountered. Sometimes, you counted how many steps it took to cross one square, although you weren’t sure why you did it. You weren’t very far from the café, however, when you heard a metallic thumping. The sound made you turn, but when you looked around, you couldn’t immediately see anything wrong. You were about to dismiss it when you heard it again. It was coming from the dumpster by the café.
You knew there was the chance for you to become something out of a horror film; a ruthless killer would jump out from behind the dumpster and stab you to death, then throw your body in, and eventually, you would end up compacted into a trash cube like the ones in Wall-E and no one would ever find your body. Despite that, you approached anyway, albeit rather slowly. You figured if you didn’t rush over, you’d have more time to see if there was a killer waiting with the feasting mice. Your shoes were virtually silent as they moved along the asphalt lot. You heard a faint snapping sound, like bones breaking, which made you cringe.
When you got close enough, you could make out a figure that was crouched down beside the dumpster, turned away from you. You squinted at them and studied their attire … the knot of what you guessed was an apron, pressing into their lower back … an unruly mess of hair that swept against their shoulders … wait. “Alex?”
The figure froze and turned to face you. It was Alex, but something was very, very wrong. There was a dead mouse in his hands, the white fur of its neck stained red with blood. Blood was smeared on his hands and around his lips, and glinting in the light of the nearby street lamp were two perfectly pointy fangs. Your eyes widened, and every synapse in your brain seemed to fire at once, screaming at you in a ghastly choir to get the hell out of there. You remained stuck in the same spot, though, with you and Alex just staring at each other.
You finally opened your mouth to scream, and Alex jumped up, dropping the mouse. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. The seriousness that coated his features now, creasing his brow and darkening his eyes, scared you so much that your mouth immediately snapped shut. He sighed and looked down at his hands. He moved to wipe them on his apron, then seemed to think better of it and held them awkwardly away from his clothes. “I know this looks bad.”
“Of course it does!” you hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Uh.” He looked off at the street, watching a car as it sped by. He was still tucked away in the shadows of the building, meaning only you could see him. “If I told you,” he said slowly, his gaze sliding back over to meet yours, “you wouldn’t believe me.”
You released something that was between a scoff and a laugh. “And I’m just supposed to pretend I didn’t just see you covered in blood with a dead mouse in your hands?” He nodded slowly. You wanted to smack him. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”
He sighed and nodded, looking down at the asphalt. “Fine. I’m a vampire.”
You blinked. “A vampire,” you repeated slowly. “But … I thought vampires killed people.”
“We can. Some do. I don’t.”
“So you feed on the mice instead?”
He nodded. “I don’t feel great doin' it, but it’s the only way I can survive.”
“Right.” You tried to keep your voice level, but you still wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs and run down the road, flailing your arms, and if you accidentally got hit by a car in the process, would that really be so bad?
“I need you to promise me something.”
Your jaw worked slowly. You wanted to be snarky and demand something in return, but you were too nice to try and blackmail him. “What?”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I was totally planning on telling my therapist,” you replied sarcastically.
The joke drew a small chuckle from him, but the hint of a smile that came with it was instantly gone again. He sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the endless void of stars. “I’m sorry, really. I … I hate when people find out like this.”
That caught your attention. “This has happened before?”
“Not exactly like this, but my, um, my friend, he- he found me with a mouse in his flat. It had gotten caught in one of those wooden mouse traps, and I hadn’t fed in a couple of days by then, and I felt weak, so I took it out and … and then he came in. He was nice about it, but, you know, it still sucks.”
“Was that a pun?”
He blinked and lowered his head to look at you. “You know, I hadn’t even realised when I said it.”
"Right. So ... how long can you go without feeding?"
He looked off towards the road again, seeming to think about it. "A few days at most, maybe. I eat normal food, but if I don't get blood, it's like ... dyin' of dehydration."
That made you wince a little. You'd always heard of how terrible dying of dehydration was, and you felt bad knowing that was basically what he was at risk of all the time. It wasn't like he could go around and kill mice every day, and he seemed reluctant to go after anything else. "Are your friend and I the only people that know?"
He shook his head, still staring at the road. Another car sped by. "My parents know, along with a couple more friends of mine. You're the only stranger that knows."
"Am I really a stranger if you've made my coffee for months?"
That made him smile again, and this time, it stuck around longer than the previous one had. "That's true. I know you hate regular milk, you love lattes, and you never order iced coffee 'cause you're cold all the time."
You were surprised he'd even remembered you nervously rambling about that once. That wasn't important, though. You let out a quiet sigh. "It ... it's getting late. I should head home. Will you ... be alright?"
He finally looked at you again and nodded. "I can get myself cleaned up just fine."
You nodded. "Okay, um ... goodnight, Alex."
"Night, Y/N."
You slowly turned and began to walk back to the sidewalk, your mind still reeling from all the information you'd just received. When you glanced back to see if Alex was still there, he was already gone, and the mouse had been left near the dumpster.
•••••
Lucky for you, you had therapy the next day.
Your leg bounced anxiously as you sat in the waiting room, nestled into the far right side of one of the leather sofas. Your elbow dug into the arm of the sofa, and you had your head in your hand while you stared out the window, observing all the passersby. You saw a man on a bike; a woman with a child; a couple, holding hands as they went; two girls chatting and presumably laughing (you couldn't hear them) that you were 99% certain you went to uni with. All sorts of people passed by the window every time you were here, and it was slowly getting to the point where you could pick out the ones that made this sidewalk part of their regular route.
"Y/N, you can come on in, I'm just gonna pop off to the bathroom first," your therapist said, making you turn your head. You watched as she walked across the waiting room and into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click. Her name was Mary, and she'd been your therapist for the last two years. Initially, you were hesitant and reserved with her, having never done therapy before and being unsure of exactly how much you were supposed to share- revealing personal details about yourself to a complete stranger scared you, anyway, even if they were there to help you. She was understanding, though, and after a couple of fluke sessions where you didn't say much, you finally began to step out of your shell with her. Initially, you'd thought you'd only do it for a few months and then cope with the rest yourself, but it turned out that your brain was like the world's biggest jumble of cords and it would take a lot more than a few months to unravel it. Two years later, and there were still some rather stubborn knots that needed taking care of.
You pushed yourself up off the sofa and walked out of the waiting room, heading down the hall and into the first door on the left. The office was an old house that had been bought and remodelled, meaning that every room had a homely feel to it. Mary's office was no exception; in fact, you were convinced the at-home feel was entirely her idea. There was a sofa pushed up against the wall the door was in with a couple of throw pillows on it, and across from it was Mary's desk. There was also an armchair directly across from the door that she sat in during your sessions; she only sat in her desk chair when she was scheduling your next appointment. There was a window that let you see out onto the street, and a tall plant of some sort beside it; her degrees were framed and hanging up on the wall above her desk; she had a number of pictures, both on the wall, on her desk, and on the bookshelf that was beside the sofa; and in the center of the floor was a fuzzy circle rug that you wanted to run your hands through. You never did, though.
You plopped onto the sofa, sitting in the center this time, and lifted your legs up, crossing them beneath you. You waited a couple of minutes, and then Mary came in, shutting the door behind her with the same gentleness she'd shown the bathroom door. She grabbed her teal-coloured tumbler and sat down in the armchair, smiling at you. "How have you been?"
You thought back to what you'd seen the night before and quickly tried to shove that memory out of the way; you might have joked to Alex about it, but you were absolutely not telling your therapist the barista you had a small crush on was a creature of the night. "I've ... been pretty good," you said slowly.
She rose an eyebrow at your hesitancy, but didn't say anything. "Have you been working on getting out of your flat every day?"
You nodded. "It's helped my mood a lot, surprisingly."
"Well, I wouldn't tell you to do something if I didn't think it would help." She offered you another smile, then asked, "And the nightmares?"
You tensed up a little and looked down at the fuzzy rug, wishing now more than ever that you could lie facedown on it and never get back up. "They've gotten worse recently. I'm not sure why."
"Has anything happened?"
You quickly racked your brain for any potential triggers and slowly shook your head. "Not that I can think of."
"Any additional stress?"
"No."
"Hmm." She sat back in the armchair and took a sip of her drink, glancing out the window. "What are they about?"
There it was. The question you'd been secretly dreading. "It's like ... I'm stuck in a building, and I can't get out."
"Describe the building."
"It was ... it was kind of old looking, at least inside. It reminded me of one of those old Victorian houses. The walls were a dark red, and there weren't many lights. It was like a maze. I kept running through halls and making different turns, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get out."
"And then what?"
"I ran into him again."
"The tall man?"
"Yeah." The man that had been appearing in your nightmares with increased frequency over the last few months or so was only referred to by you and Mary as "the tall man." You couldn't recognise him at all, but every time you saw him, he terrified you. And then you'd wake up. The first time you'd mentioned him to Mary, she grew worried that he was from a traumatic event you'd blocked out. You didn't think he was, but his recurring presence in your sleep still scared you. Sometimes, you wondered if you were just going insane.
Mary sighed. "I still worry it's from trauma, Y/N."
"I don't know," you said. "If it was, I feel like I would have nightmares about the same thing. I don't, though. Every time he shows up, it's in a completely different place."
"Did he say anything this time?" You shook your head. "Right." She looked down at the rug, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and then looked back up at you, managing a small smile. "What about that boy?"
You blinked. "That ... boy?"
"You know! The one from the café? How are things going with him?"
Ah. Alex. "Well, I mean, he makes my coffee. Uh ... he asked about my sketchbook yesterday."
"And what did you say?"
"I said no."
"Y/N!"
"What? I don't need him thinking I'm a creep!"
"I think he would be flattered," she said with a shrug. "It's not every day that someone gets whole sketchbook pages dedicated to them."
You looked away as your cheeks flushed. You had to admit, you'd had that exact line of thinking before, but you could never convince yourself of it. You got the feeling that the flattery would take the backseat in comparison to the creepiness of it all. It felt stupid and weird to even have a crush on him in the first place (you were barely willing to admit you had a crush on him at all); you two only spoke to each other because you had to. If anything, maybe he found you annoying. Maybe he didn't like how often you'd started coming in accordance with Mary's "get out of the flat" regime. Maybe he hated making your coffee. Maybe he hated you. Now that you knew he was a vampire, maybe he'd break his no-humans rule and kill you and suck all the blood from your body until you were nothing but a lifeless husk.
"Earth to Y/N."
"Huh?" You looked at Mary, who just smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, did you say something?"
"You zoned out on me. I was starting to think you'd never come back into orbit."
"Oh ... sorry."
She shook her head again. "It's fine. I was just saying that I think you should try and talk to that boy more often."
"But I only ever see him at the café."
"Then work out a way to meet up with him outside of work."
"I don't know."
"You need the social interaction. Your resolution this year was to be less of a hermit, right? You can't really do that if you don't talk to anyone."
You knew she was right. She tended to be. "Fine," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'll talk to him the next time I see him. But what should I say?"
"Try to find common ground. Figure out his interests and go from there."
The rest of your session went about as smoothly as any therapy session could go, and your next appointment was exactly three weeks out. Although you were tempted to just head straight home, you decided to finally bite the bullet and get the conversation with Alex over with. You weren't sure how stable any friendship you might form with him could be, considering you knew his darkest secret before you knew his last name, but you tried to remain optimistic. You took the bus to the stop that was closest to the café and forced yourself to take a couple of deep breaths to keep calm before walking inside.
The café wasn’t that busy, which immediately made the tension in your shoulders lessen. There were a few people already in line, though, so you slowly made your way to the counter, suddenly finding it impossible to stand still. Your eyes darted to every crevice of the café they could possibly reach, although you avoided looking at any faces on the off chance someone would look at you at the same time and you’d have to awkwardly look away. When it was finally your turn, Alex looked up from the till, his face falling slightly. “Y/N. What can I get you today?”
Fuck. He was already annoyed that he had to deal with you after last night. “Uh, just the usual, please.”
“Will that be all?”
Yes. “No.” What? “Uh, I wanted to ask, um …” He stared at you, waiting for you to finish, and you blurted out, “What do you like?” Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Maybe today was the day you’d run into traffic.
His brows knitted together as he seemed to process what you’d just said. You wanted to sink into the floor. “You wanna know what I like?” he asked slowly. You nodded. “Alright, well, uh, I think the croissants are pretty … swell. I like the cakes, uh-“
“No,” you interrupted, “that’s not what I meant. I meant, like … interests.”
You watched as realisation dawned on his face, his brows raising and his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “I like music. I like, uh, readin’ books. Um … I write sometimes, too, although I think I’m shite at it. I like those old black and white films. Why are you askin’?”
“I was going to see if we could be friends, maybe,” you mumbled, looking down at the counter. This was all suddenly incredibly embarrassing. You felt like a child again, and you absolutely despised it.
“Oh.” You looked back up at him, rather hesitantly, expecting him to look annoyed or disgusted. Instead, he was smiling. It was faint, but it was still there. “We can be friends, Y/N. You coulda just started with that, though.”
“Al, you better not be flirtin’ with the customers.” The sound of someone else’s voice startled the both of you, and you both looked at the barista that was currently frothing milk. His name tag said Miles, if you were reading it right.
“I’m not,” Alex said sharply, glaring at him. Miles just grinned and winked at you before turning his attention back to the device he stood in front of. Alex rolled his eyes and turned to face you again. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” you said, although the implication of Miles’ wink that Alex could flirt with you made your cheeks go red. “Um, is it alright if I give you my number?”
•••••
Alex stretched himself out on the grass, letting out something between a groan and a sigh. A beam of sunlight filtered through the branches of the tree you were underneath, casting him in an otherworldly glow and turning his irises into pools of honey behind his sunglasses. "God, I love sunny days," he sighed.
It was the next day, and after the two of you had exchanged numbers, Alex had suggested hanging out since he didn't have work that day. It wasn't like you had anything else to do besides rotting away in your flat, so you agreed. Another day of getting outside meant another sticker on your calendar. February was almost complete. You'd stopped by the café beforehand anyway, though, just to get coffee and a snack. You were sipping at your perfectly toasty mocha latte, and Alex had already managed to down half of his black coffee.
He looked up at you as you bit into your cookie, catching the crumbs with the white paper bag your treats had been slipped into. He didn't say anything for a few moments, just watched you. Then he asked, "You haven't told anyone, have you?"
You lowered the cookie back into the bag. "No," you said. "I saw my therapist yesterday, funnily enough, but I kept my mouth shut."
Amusement danced in his eyes as he remembered your remark. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this now."
You shrugged a little. "It's fine. Adds a bit of excitement to my life." Now it was your turn to eye him. "If you're a vampire, how come you're not a pile of ashes right now?"
He barked out a laugh at that. You quite liked the way his laugh sounded. "Honestly, I was scared to go outside when I got turned, but when I finally did, I was ... fine. I guess it's 'cause I'm not a purebred or anything."
"Oh. So what vampire perks do you get?"
"Well, I can run really fast, although I don't really use that one 'cause I don't run anywhere. I can see in the dark. Erm ... I can sunbathe and not get burnt?"
It was your turn to laugh. "No wonder you're so pale."
"My skin glistens. Like I'm covered in a bunch of tiny crystals."
You set the paper bag down in the grass, deciding to forget about your cookie for now. "Does all the regular stuff still hurt you?"
"Yeah. I mean, I haven't tested a stake to the heart, and I don't plan to, but everythin' else ..."
"Do you not age anymore?"
He shook his head. "I mean, it's hard to say. You don't change much in your twenties, I don't think. But after I got turned, I just ... knew. It was a weird feeling. It still is."
That made you frown a little. You were beginning to wonder if he even enjoyed being a vampire. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that you were turned against your will."
He nodded slowly, turning his head ever so slightly to stare up past the branches, watching the clouds as they drifted by. "It was over a year ago. There was ... there was this man in my dreams." His hands, which had been supporting his head, were now waving around in the air, adding gestures to his words. "Every time I saw him, it freaked me out, although I didn't understand why. It was like seein' him triggered somethin', and I'd immediately wake up. It went on for a few months, and then one night, when I was walking home from work, someone jumped out of an alley and knocked me out. I don't remember anything that happened afterwards, but when I woke up, I had the strangest craving for blood."
Although his story did make you sad, your mind immediately latched onto one detail in particular. "Wait, you saw a man in your dreams?"
"Yeah, he was a fuckin' creep. Dunno who he was."
"Was he tall and wearing a black cloak with his hair gelled back?"
"Yeah." He looked back at you, his brows furrowing. "What are you gettin' at, Y/N?"
"I ..." You gulped. "I've been seeing that man in my dreams since November."
Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, still staring at you. If you looked hard enough, behind those sunglasses, you were pretty sure there was a hint of fear in his eyes. "November?"
You nodded. "I didn't know what to think of it, and my therapist thought that maybe it was related to trauma, and-"
"Y/N," he interrupted, his voice much graver than it'd ever been, "you're not safe. They're gonna come for you."
•••••
tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay
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sentinelpri · 6 days
Text
To Be Selfish (NSFW)
Kakashi Hatake stands at the village gates with a ratty binder in his hands, flipping between multiple pages as the cool morning air blows through his silvery locks. 
A map, blurry pictures of the two men he’s been ordered to kill, descriptions of their jutsu, and a note with their most recent location following an encounter with another one of Konoha’s Anbu, who was found just over a night ago. 
It should be enough information for the two of you to succeed.
The time on his watch shows that it’s just past six in the morning. The sun is rising and painting the sky blue, purple, yellow, and orange in its wake. It’s cool, but not cold, though the incessant breeze in the air makes goosebumps raise on Kakashi’s arms while he waits for you.
Kakashi was ordered to meet you here at five thirty. Supposedly, the Hokage informed you of the rendezvous location as well. Kakashi was late due to him stopping to see Obito, Rin, Minato, Kushina, Might Dai, and his own father at the cemetery. Now, it’s half an hour past the time you were supposed to meet him and you still aren’t there.
Kakashi isn’t sure if you’re ditching him or if you’re going to show up late on purpose to piss him off. As the captain of Team Ro, he’s always tried to maintain decent relationships with his subordinates; you, Itachi, and Tenzo. However, the moment you were added to the team, it was clear that you had a bit of a crush on Kakashi. You were getting too close, trying to coddle him on missions, making him food, bringing him gifts, and constantly putting yourself in harm’s way for him. 
Though you’re much different than Rin, your behavior wasn’t. Kakashi still has nightmares about his old friend impaling herself on his chidori almost every time he tries to sleep for his sake, for the village’s sake- and he knows that, if something like that happens to him again, he’ll fall into the darkness and be unable to get himself out of it. 
He can’t lose someone again. He’s too damaged to do it again.
Admittedly, his solution to the problem may not have been the best one he could’ve come up with. Instead of having a genuine conversation with you about his past and telling you that he isn’t in the mental space to get attached to another person right now, let alone one who’s constantly in danger while working in Anbu, he did what was easy and pushed you away. He chewed you out for defending him during missions, belittled your abilities, avoided you at all costs, and rejected anything you tried to give or do for him- and rather than the cold indifference he’s so used to pushing people away with, he did it in the most hateful way possible, just to make sure it worked.
And it did. His plan worked better than he ever wanted it to. Now, instead of the puppy-like crush you had on him before, you hate him. Kakashi is fully aware that it’s his fault, but he’s too embarrassed to come clean to you. He also knows that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness for how he’s hurt your feelings. So, he continues to pretend to hate you. Neither Itachi nor Tenzo have dared to ask about it, but it has negatively affected the team dynamic during training and missions.
Kakashi starts to assume that you aren’t coming and turns to leave, but right then, he hears slow and quiet footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder to see you in full armor, (h/l) (h/c) hair pulled back and your (e/c) eyes sparkling under the rising sun. If Kakashi’s body goes hot, he blames it on the impending sunlight, rather than on his love for you. 
It’s not you that makes him burn bright red from the top of his forehead, to the tips of his ears, to his neck, to the top of his chest…
Okay, maybe it is.
But you don’t need to know that.
“It’s not like those two to be late… They’re not late, are they? Why is it just us?” You ask, looking around as if you’re waiting for Itachi and Tenzo to appear. Kakashi can’t help but be disappointed by how bothered you seem that it’s just him. “I’d rather really not be stuck alone with you. The other two are much more personable.”
“Seems like Tenzo and Itachi are still in recovery after the last mission, so they couldn’t come along. Honestly, though, this shouldn’t require too much manpower. I don’t know why the Hokage is having me take you,” Kakashi coldly replies, even though the Hokage told him whether or not he made you come on this mission was up to his discretion since he’s the captain of Team Ro. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You huff.
“It’s supposed to mean that I could do it by myself.”
“Then why am I here if I could be in bed right now, you fucker?”
“Just in case.”
“See, you’re not nearly as confident as you say you are.”
“Don’t question me. I am your captain.”
And, as always, you immediately question him.
“What are we doing, anyway?”
“We’ve got a couple of B-rank assassins on our hands from Kusa. Our job is to take them out and dispose of their bodies.”
“There’s only two and they’re both B-rank? Why are they sending us?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That’s honestly a little insulting considering we both have S-ranks in their bingo books over there.”
“While neither of them are particularly talented, their combo ability is dangerous,” Kakashi says. When you open your mouth to ask yet another question, Kakashi interrupts by rambling on, mostly because he’s skirting around explaining the enemies’ jutsu to you… It’s rather lewd and uncomfortable, to say the least. “That’s why S-rank shinobi are required to take them down. Don’t underestimate your opponent just because of their bingo book ranking. They could always be downplaying their strength.”
“Well? Spill; what is it that these guys do?”
Kakashi freezes. In order to succeed in this mission, you have to be aware of what your enemies are capable of. Still- it’s awkward to actually have to talk about something sexual, especially with you. 
“It’s, uh… Sex pollen,” He stammers out after a little too long.
“Sex pollen?” You tilt your head back and laugh, pointing a finger at him as if he’s joking- no, as if you’re making fun of him- even when you can clearly see the embarrassment that’s painted on his face. “Like in those weird fucking books you read?”
“Oh, shut up,” Kakashi turns his body to avoid your gaze. Honestly, he prefers the way you were before- sweet and considerate of his feelings- but he also knows that your constant teasing makes him want you even more than he did before for whatever reason. He continues to avoid your eyes, but hands you the binder full of information about the shinobi you have to assassinate and their location so you can read through it. “Anyway… Yeah. The jutsu caster releases a type of pollen into the air from nearby plants that acts as an intense aphrodisiac. It’s apparently so intense that, once you’ve inhaled it, it takes effect within half an hour and leaves you unable to do anything until you find relief.”
You quirk a brow up at that, confusion lacing your expression.
“Find relief?”
Kakashi sighs.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
“I need all the details I can get if we’re going to fight these people, Kakashi. Don’t be such a prude.”
“Relief as in… Orgasm with another person. Pretty much, you’re left without the ability to fight, so the enemy has an opening to kill you while you’re vulnerable. If you somehow manage to escape them before it takes effect, but don’t find the ‘relief’ you need to break the jutsu, it’ll put so much pressure on your heart from the increased blood flow that you’ll die after a few hours- that is, if you can resist the urge to screw whoever’s closest. It’s much different than natural human arousal, or even anything that any medications could cause.” 
“It’s strong enough that even skilled shinobi can’t resist it? And why can’t you just masturbate to get rid of it?”
“Apparently even strong shinobi are vulnerable- it just takes longer for it to take affect. If you try to make it go away by masturbating, it won’t work. One of our guys was found dead from it recently because he went solo and tried to take care of himself after inhaling it, and they managed to get a sample of the pollen from his lungs and nasal passageways to take for testing, but the medical core hasn’t been able to come up with an antidote just yet. They said it’s very complicated and that they’ve never seen any other pollen like it. In the meantime, they want us to take care of the two; they’ve gone rogue from their village and been using this ability to kill any shinobi who try to capture them, and they’ve even used it to rob innocent civilians so they can afford whatever lifestyle it is they’re living as rogues.”
“Wait, you said there were two of them. If there’s one using this pollen jutsu, what does the other one do that���s so dangerous?”
“While the first is from a clan that can use this pollen-based jutsu, the other is from a neighboring clan that has a natural immunity to the released pollen. In Kusa, the two clans are known to work together for missions frequently,” Kakashi explains. “So the jutsu user would be able to inhibit us with the pollen, while the shinobi with the immunity would strike immediately after and remain unaffected, as to allow the jutsu user to focus on keeping us under the influence of the pollen.”
“Sounds tricky.”
“Precisely. It seems that they’ve been blessed with these kekkai genkai but are still relatively unskilled and have been wounded by shinobi unaware of their abilities. Even though they killed him in the end, the last ninja we sent out apparently wounded them both really badly before he went down,” Kakashi finishes. He takes the binder from your hands and returns it to where it was in his backpack. “So if we can find them in time and strike while they’re vulnerable, we’ll be able to take them down without an issue.”
“And that’s why you brought me, right?”
“Yes,” Kakashi answers. You were born with a rare kekkai genkai that not only allows you to sense chakra from a much further range than the average sensory type, but also allows you to sense whether the person’s primary chakra is wind, lightning, earth, fire, or water. “As talented as I am, I’m no sensory type.”
“So, really, you couldn’t do this by yourself,” You grin, playfully smacking Kakashi’s shoulder.
“I could use my hounds and do it by myself just fine,” He argues. “You, however, require less chakra use from me since I don’t have to summon you.”
“I bet you wish you could.”
“I’m glad I can’t. It’s not like we need to be any closer than we’re made to be,” Kakashi sighs, but he finds that all he wants is to be close to you. Still, there’s no making amends for how he’s treated you lately- all in a fucked up attempt to push you away just because of his own issues. “Last I heard, they were on the border between here and Kusa, on the north side. That’s around where they found the Anbu they killed, and with how injured they supposedly are, there’s no way they’ll make it too far without running into us. If we make good time, we’ll be able to find them.”
“You really trust in my tracking abilities that much?” You question.
You’re looking for validation. Kakashi can tell. Lately, he’d tell you ‘no’ or that you’re just more convenient than any alternatives, but even if it feels impossible, he wants to fix things. So, he tries to choose his words carefully.
“As much as I hate to admit it…” Kakashi pauses, then responds. “Yes, I do, but don’t let that get to your head.”
“Fine,” You huff and walk ahead with your arms crossed over your chest. “Let’s go, then.”
~
As much as you love Kakashi Hatake, you also despise him.
The two of you arrive on the south side of the border between Konoha and Kusa after a long, awkward, silent journey. Kakashi didn’t utter so much as a word to you during the multi-hour walk. 
When the two of you arrive at the cabin, you thank whatever god is out there for the fact that Tenzo exists. Shortly after you were assigned to Team Ro, the brunette started using his jutsu to build small cabins for you all to stay in, particularly on certain borders or in certain cities that the four of you frequent often for missions. With Kusa being a developing ninja nation compared to the major five, Konoha ninja are sent there frequently to assist them- and, behind the scenes- to keep them under control, lest they upset the balance between the ninja nations that has only just now started to settle after decades of war. 
The cabin is good, but still one of the worst ones. You don’t mind it much as you’re mostly just excited that you don’t have to sleep outside in a tent.
Being on a mission with Kakashi is stressful enough.
When you walk in, you’re reminded that there’s only one large bed. It wouldn’t be unusual for you and your three teammates to share it, but now that it’s just Kakashi here… Your heart flutters in excitement.
Much to your disappointment, however, as you shut the door behind you and set your bag down, Kakashi starts to complain about the arrangement.
“Only one bed. Of course, the one time we get landed in a place with one bed, it’s when I’m on a mission with you instead of one of the others,” Kakashi shakes his head and carelessly drops his bag to the floor. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls out his stupid book. It’s crazy to you that he reads romance novels all the time, yet ignores your obvious feelings for him. “And the thing’s big enough for four people… I’m going to ask Tenzo to start making more beds when he assembles these mission cabins for us.”
“Oh, please, Kakashi,” You reply and sit on the back of the bed. “I’ll be sure not to lay anywhere near you. Hell, I’ll sleep on the floor if you want.”
“No, don’t,” Kakashi quickly objects. The tiny bit of his cheeks that peeks out from beneath his mask is dyed bright red with a blush. “Your uh… Your back will hurt.”
You blink at him, then ask-
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yes,” Kakashi answers as if he’s not being weird about this. You just continue to give him the most incredulous, judgmental stare you can possibly muster. “Our mission could be compromised if you’re in pain.”
“Okay, great! You’ll sleep on the floor, then,” You respond with a shit-eating grin that you know pisses Kakashi off more than anything.
“No, I won’t.”
You shrug.
“Then I’ll sleep in the floor and compromise our mission.”
“Just get in the bed,” Kakashi grumbles and strips down. You watch before you can think better of it, but if Kakashi notices, he doesn’t say anything. Your mouth waters at the sight of his bare back, muscles and pale skin covered in a flurry of scars. The defined muscles he has shift underneath his arms and shoulders as he- disappointingly- moves to the very edge of the bed and lies on his side with a blanket dragged on top of him to cover up his body. His mask remains on his neck, which bothers you, but you know better than to pry about why he wears the damn thing 24/7. “I promise I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
At that, your heart skips a beat. Unless you want him to? Does that mean that he wants to? You struggle to speak, stuttering over the words you’re trying to force out. The worst part of you wants to make fun of him, but all you can do is ask him to clarify what he meant.
“Unless I want you to?”
“That came out wrong,” Kakashi quickly mutters and squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Just… Lay down. I’ll sleep on the edge. Pakkun will keep watch for us outside and wake us up when enemies come or when eight hours have passed- whichever comes first.”
“Fine,” You sigh and strip down to your underclothes as well. You swear that you feel Kakashi’s eyes on you, if only for a second, but when you check to see if he’s peeking, his eyes are still screwed shut. You lie on the side of the bed opposite to Kakashi, facing away from him and staring at the wall to save you the embarrassment of getting scolded or told to go away like he would’ve done back when you made your feelings for him obvious. “Goodnight, Kakashi.”
“Goodnight, (y/n).”
~
Kakashi wakes up in the middle of the bed. He’s always moved a lot in his sleep, but he’s still surprised to find himself turned onto his other side with his arms wrapped around…
You?
Yes, you. You’re fast asleep, snuggled into Kakashi’s chest as he holds you in his arms. Your face appears so peaceful like this, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks and your sleep-rustled hair framing your face. You’re only in a tank top and the shorts you wear under your uniform, so your warm (s/c) skin is pressed up against Kakashi’s. He notices the soft peaks of your breast squished against his chest and decides that enough is enough. He’d hate for you to wake up and see him holding you like this, especially when it wasn’t intentional.
He pulls away from you and checks the time on his watch. It’s only been six hours since the two of you went to sleep, but that should be more than enough. He’s stayed up for days at a time for missions before and he doesn’t want to waste so much time sleeping that the enemy manages to get away. 
Careful not to wake you up, Kakashi showers in the bathroom, changes his clothes, and goes outside to talk to Pakkun, who he had keeping watch overnight.
“Pakkun, anything to report?”
“I sent Biscuit to scout everything nearby. Seems like animals can’t sense this pollen from the reports you showed me before,” Pakkun answers. “But he sniffed out a couple ninja close by. They’re north of here, staying in a small shack. He said they smelled nervous but that he didn’t know if they were aware of you being nearby or not. Need us to guide you to where they are?”
“No, thank you. You’ve been working for more than six hours straight now, so you’ve done enough,” Right as Kakashi says that, he hears your footsteps. You stand in the doorway just a couple feet behind, listening in. “Plus, I’ve got (y/n) here to help me pinpoint them now that you’ve given us a general direction to work with. Please, go rest.”
“Stop acting like I’m old and need to rest all the time, Kakashi. It’s not like I’m on death’s door,” Pakkun huffs, scratching his paws against the dirt floor. “Not that I don’t appreciate the extra naps…”
Pakkun disappears in a cloud of smoke. Kakashi looks at you over his shoulder. Your hair is damp and the pleasant scents of perfume, soap, shampoo, and conditioner waft off of you in gentle waves. He assumes you must’ve showered right after he finished and went outside to communicate with Pakkun.
“Let’s go,” He says.
You silently nod. The two of you pack up, erase any traces of your shared presence from the cabin, and head out. 
Once again, the journey is silent. 
You and Kakashi travel up north by foot, staying in the trees of the forest so you can’t get ambushed from above or below. Neither of you talk, even as you get close to where the enemies are supposed to be. Kakashi still feels awkward about how he woke up this morning, and he isn’t sure whether or not you cuddled into him last night on purpose- or if you even know that it happened. You seem like you’re still mad about the spat the two of you had about the sleeping arrangements.
“I’m sensing two strong chakra sources up ahead… About half a mile,” You pause, stopping on a random branch and closing your eyes so you can focus on sensing the chakra signature. Kakashi listens and places a firm hand on one of your shoulders to keep you steady. “They’re high Chunin level, maybe low Jonin if they’re injured or trying to mask their chakra. I’m sensing water and earth in one of them… And the other is totally unfamiliar. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“Wood style is a combination of water and earth, so it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that someone who uses a plant-based kekkai genkai would use a combination of water and earth style. The other one is immune to the pollen as well as various types of poison but hasn’t been sighted yet using any elemental jutsu, so who knows what kind of chakra they have… These must be our guys. The jutsu has a range of about thirteen hundred feet, so we can’t alert them of our presence or we’re done for.”
“What should we do?”
“I’m surprised you’re consulting me,” Kakashi responds, to which you open your eyes and shoot him a sharp glare. “Hide your chakra and be as quiet as you can. We’ll stake out to see what they’re up to and get the drop on them.”
“Okay.”
The two of you eventually locate the shack you were told the enemies would be in. There’s a small window that you can see through as the two of you hide on the branch of a tree, seemingly out of sight from the two men. One of them is a brunette who sits at the table with his back facing the window. The other is a blond who stands across from the other, facing the window. Both are in standard Kusa ninja uniforms, and the blond has a standard Kusa forehead protector with a slash cut through it.
“We’ll wait until they move to do something or start talking to each other. Then I’ll use my chidori, break through the window, and kill them both,” Kakashi strategizes. “Your job is to follow close behind me. When I hit the first one, there will be a split second for the other to try and escape or counter me if he’s skilled enough. If he tries anything, kill him or find a way to keep him in the path of my chidori without getting yourself hurt.”
“So, what, you get to do everything and I’m just here as your contingency plan?”
Kakashi rolls his eyes at that. 
“Pretty much, so get over it.”
Just then, the blond shinobi starts to talk to his partner. His face changes. He appears paranoid and panicked. Is there any way he could have sensed you and Kakashi? …No, if that were the case, they would’ve moved to attack by now.
Everything seems to be going well enough, and the two men seem distracted. He makes eye contact with you and gives you a nod to let you know that you should ready yourself for combat.
You nod back. 
Kakashi channels his chakra to his hand to activate the chidori. With how fast it is, neither enemy should be able to do much of anything in retaliation- at least not in time to cast the pollen jutsu on him, especially with you acting as back up. 
Kakashi takes a deep breath and looks over at you. His heart starts to beat harder in his chest. Arousal shoots throughout his body like electricity. For a moment, he assumes it’s because of your presence, but then he catches a scent that’s… Sweet, just like how that pollen has been described to smell.
Kakashi looks at the enemy again. The one sitting with his back to the table seems relaxed, as the one standing upright a few feet in front of him is holding a hand sign; casting a jutsu.
“Shit,” He whispers.
“What is it?”
“Are you stupid? Or can you just not smell anything? We inhaled it, it’s sickeningly sweet,” Kakashi hisses, shaking his head to try to get the smell out of his nostrils. It doesn’t work. Just then, you slap your hands over your nose, seeming to have gotten a whiff of it too. “The enemy must have been using his jutsu as a precaution!”
“What do we do?” You demand, panic lacing your expression.
“Kill them now before they have the chance to take advantage of our weakened state,” Kakashi orders, and knowing the dire situation, you don’t argue with him.
“Yes.”
The two of you continue with the original plan. When Kakashi charges through the window with a ball of lightning attached to his hand, the two men look incredibly shocked to see that he’s even standing, and don’t have the time to counter him. Within a minute, both are dead on the floor of the shack, but the effects of the pollen don’t subside. Kakashi rushes to wash the blood off of his hands in the sink while you sit on the floor with your (s/c) cheeks flushed and pathetic little pants falling from in between your lips.
“This is bad…” Kakashi covers his masked nose with his hand, but it doesn’t help in the slightest.
“What does it matter? They’re both dead now! Shouldn’t it wear off?”
“That doesn’t mean anything- just because they’re dead doesn’t mean that the jutsu doesn’t have any effect. That’s like saying a fire style jutsu won’t burn a forest down after being shot at a tree just because you killed the user afterwards,” Kakashi scoffs, but he’s barely even able to form logical thoughts, let alone get the words out. Any normal civilian would’ve fully succumbed to this pollen by now and either had sex with the closest person or died. “Go look and see if you can find an antidote on him or the other one.”
“Why do I have to do it?” You complain with a pouty lip.
“Just do it! The pollen’s already starting to get to the both of us, and if we don’t figure something out soon, you know what’s going to happen.”
“Shit,” You gasp. You’ve quickly searched both men’s weapon pouches and bags, but based on the defeat in your voice, Kakashi assumes you didn’t find anything. “There’s nothing but kunai and paper bombs!”
“What about in their pockets?”
You quickly search the mens’ pockets.
“Nothing!”
“God dammit,” Kakashi straightens his back, then roughly grabs you by the bicep and drags you up so you’re standing on your feet. “We have to get out of here, now.”
“Shouldn’t we split up?”
“Are you insane? If they have any back up coming and they catch us alone with the state we’re about to be in, we’ll be killed. You know it’s not uncommon for rogue ninja to work together in large bands. This could be a hideout, and if more of them come back and find these ones dead, we’re done for!”
“What, like an enemy catching us fucking nearby instead of alone would be any better for us?” You shoot back. Kakashi can’t help but be angry that, regardless of your previous feelings for him, you’d literally rather split up and risk both of you dying than dare to have sex with him. “At least if we’re alone, we die with some dignity!”
“Why does dignity even matter at this point if we’re like-” Kakashi groans and gestures wildly to himself; his head, which is fuzzy with lust, and his dick, which is hard as a fucking rock- then to you. “Like this? I refuse to compromise our lives to save your pride!”
“So, what?” You yell back, throwing your hands up in frustration. “We have to do it or we die?”
“I can’t reasonably violate your consent, but if it’s what we have to do to stay alive, and you’d let me,” Kakashi breathes out. He’s so ashamed of himself for letting this happen to the two of you that he can’t even meet your eyes. “Yes.”
“Look, Kakashi,” You gather your composure for just long enough to form rational thoughts and tell him- “I know you don’t like me, but we have to figure something out. Let’s get back to camp and resolve it from there.”
At that, Kakashi sighs. 
“Who ever said I didn’t like you?”
Unsurprisingly, you don’t respond. Your mind is so clouded that all you can do is focus on getting back to the cabin without tackling Kakashi to the ground and taking him for yourself right then and there.
Worst of all, Kakashi can’t say that he’s doing much better.
~
When the two of you return to your hideout, you find yourself sitting hunched up in the corner. Meanwhile, Kakashi is restless, suggesting alternative solutions that both of you know won’t work.
“It’s getting worse,” Kakashi murmurs, frazzled and aroused. You’ve never seen him in either state let alone both at the same time. Kakashi is your captain, the rock of your team. As much as you act like you hate him, and as much as you boast about your own power, his consistent strength and talent at getting your team out of bad situations is what keeps you from spiraling in circumstances such as this. Now that he’s spiraling, you’re even more panicked, knowing that there’s no way out of this. “I can barely think.”
“I can see that,” You say the words as condescendingly as you can, but if you’re being honest, the sight of Kakashi’s length straining against his already tight pants is enough to make your situation worse. Even with the thick black cloth of the Anbu uniform, you swear you see all seven- or maybe six?- inches of it twitch. You force yourself to roll your eyes and look away from the man, who frantically paces the room. “If your dick gets any harder, it might burst through your pants. Seriously, looks like you could cut fucking diamonds with that thing.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing much better,” Kakashi snaps back at you. 
You offer nothing but a sardonic sort of cackle in return regardless of the fact that his words are true. You were so hot that you stripped yourself of your shoes, socks, pants, and armor as soon as you made it through the door of the cabin- Kakashi’s presence and your dignity be damned. You wore the stupid ‘sexy’ (f/c) bra and panties that you keep in your underwear drawer at home, on the off chance that you’d act on your feelings during this mission and get the chance to have sex with your captain.
You laugh even harder at the thought of that- if only you’d known just yesterday what would happen. Now, the two of you are in this cabin together, hormones going crazy, drenched in sweat, in desperate need of relief, with you in your soaked panties and Kakashi’s clothes soaked in blood. 
“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”
Kakashi sits on the floor in front of you. He’s close- too close. It takes everything in you not to climb on top of him and rock his world. 
“Why do you think I don’t like you?”
Of all things… Of all things, in the situation the two of you are in, horny out of your goddamn minds and using what little restraint you have left to keep from jumping each other’s bones without consent, Kakashi is asking about your feelings. 
You thought you were easy enough to read.  
You thought that, eventually, Kakashi would look at you and figure out that you’d loved him from the start and still do, even after everything the two of you have said and done to each other.
Apparently not.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” You snarl, gritting your teeth and clenching your legs together in hopes that it’ll put an end to the arousal pooling between them. If anything, the friction makes it worse, as even the slightest pressure on your clit has you biting your lip to keep from letting out any noise. “It’s not like you care.”
“Of course I fucking care,” Kakashi yells. You’ve seen him angry, sure, but you’ve never heard him yell. You snap your head around to look at him so quickly that your neck hurts as your (e/c) eyes go wide at his words. “Why do you think I had you come with me on this mission in the first place?”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I love you,” Kakashi suddenly confesses. He holds his head in his hands as he pulls his knees up to his chest. Your ears start to ring so loud that you don’t hear the rest of what he says. “And I thought I could do it by myself, but I knew Itachi and Tenzo were still in the hospital, so I dragged you with me anyways because I was selfish and wanted to spend time with you alone for once- and now we’re like this, and it’s my fault.”
“You shouldn’t love me,” You object, cheeks red and mind racing. You’re not sure if it’s the confession or the pollen that’s causing it, but you find that your heart is beating so hard and fast against your chest that you can’t even swallow because you can feel it in your throat. “That’s not right- it can’t be! Why would you be so cold to me all this time if you loved me?”
“Because I was stupid and didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I was scared of losing you like I’ve lost everyone else I’ve gotten close to, so I pushed you away… But I promise you, (y/n), I love you more than anything.”
“It… It can’t be.”
“It can’t? Then tell me how to stop, (y/n). Tell me how to stop loving you,” Kakashi demands. He pauses, carefully waiting for a response. He pulls his forehead protector off and tosses it across the room. It hits the wall then falls to the floor with a clatter. Briefly you wonder what it would be like for him to use that sort of brute force on you, but you’re distracted by Kakashi’s ungloved hands on the sides of your face and his eyes peering into yours; one a deep charcoal and one a brilliant ruby red that you swear glows against the darkness of the house under the night sky. “No, seriously. Spare me.”
“I thought you hated me,” You whisper, closing your eyes to avoid Kakashi’s.
“I don’t.”
“What, so you brought me back here instead of having us split up so you could fuck me? Because you love me? Is that what you want?”
“You’re kidding me,” Kakashi shakes his head at you and jerks his hands away from your skin like you’re poison. He turns his back to you, groaning. “This is the opposite of what I want. I…”
“You what?”
“I never thought you’d return my feelings again after how I treated you. I still don’t expect you to,” Kakashi sighs. His gaze flickers from the wooden floor to your face. Finally, when his eyes meet yours, you see the genuine emotion in his face- and you’re able to swallow your pride. “But if you did, I wanted our first time together to be…”
“What, romantic? Sweet?”
“Yeah,” Kakashi answers, then scoffs. “This must be hilarious to you.”
At Kakashi’s apparent defeat, you soften. Even after everything that’s happened… You can admit that the two of you have been meaner to each other than what was ever necessary.
“A little bit. I can’t say I didn’t expect it, though. I’ve seen the books you read,” You offer an awkward sort of half smile and scoot forward so you can rest a reassuring hand on Kakashi’s shoulder from behind. Unsurprisingly, he flinches at the touch. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t move away or tell you to stop. “But I’d lie if I said I didn’t want the same thing.”
“You mean you…?” Kakashi trails off and looks back at you from over his shoulder.
“Mhm,” You nod.
Kakashi hurriedly turns around to face you again, putting both of his hands on your shoulders and gripping them tight.
“I don’t want you to have sex with me just because of- of this,” He says, frustration lacing his voice, to which you offer a half-hearted shrug.
“We don’t have much of a choice, unless you want to die here,” You climb into Kakashi’s lap and yank his mask down before he can object. The garment hangs loosely around his neck. You continue as you take in the sight of his face; so beautiful, with scarred porcelain skin, red cheeks, and soft-looking lips. At this point, most shinobi- and every average civilian- would’ve broken and given in to the urges of the sex pollen jutsu by now. You’re also desperate to get some sort of relief- and more so, desperate for Kakashi himself after having waited so long for this. “The quicker we get it over with, the quicker we can go home, and the higher chance we have for survival.”
“Fuck, you’re right,” Kakashi grumbles and carries you to the bed, where he sits with his back against the bedframe and your body still in his lap. You flinch when he reaches into his weapons pouch at lightning speed, only to be pleasantly surprised when he flicks a kunai upwards to cut your armor, shirt, and bra into pieces. The garments fall onto the floor and leave you exposed to his lust-glazed eyes. “Let’s get started, then.”
“You owe me a new lingerie set, asshole. You better buy me one when we get back, because that was expensive, and I wore it for you,” You scold at the sight of your bra, undershirt, and armor cut to shreds and being thrown to the floor by one of Kakashi’s large hands. “Armor, too.”
Kakashi doesn’t even dignify your orders with a response- instead choosing to focus on your other comment
“You wore them for me, did you?” He hums You stare in awe at the sight of his exposed face. “That’s… Actually really sweet, (y/n).”
“Don’t be such a sap,” You scold and move so you can take your underwear off and toss them to the floor. “And while we’re at it, it’s unfair that I have all my clothes off while you’re still fully dressed.”
“Then help me get my clothes off before this pollen makes me lose my mind. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
You do as told and help Kakashi strip off his socks, pants, and boxers. Your eyes go slightly wide at the size when his hard dick springs out from underneath his clothing. 
You climb back into his lap and pause. 
“I never thought I’d see you like this.”
“I never thought I’d get to see you like this either,” Kakashi smiles. You realize that, even after this, you would like to see his smile more. Seeing his face without that stupid mask on it is refreshing after so long of only receiving that cold one-eyed stare of his. “Can I touch you?”
“Sure, just do it slowly to start with.”
“I can do that.”
Slowly, just as he promises, Kakashi touches you. He starts with squeezing your thighs and your ass. When you shudder at the motions, he continues by running his hands up and down the length of your waist, then moving them back up to cup your tits and fondle them tightly. His lips are on you seconds later; on your belly, up to the center of your chest, peppering your (s/c) skin in kisses before one of them is wrapped around your nipple. He sucks the bud to full hardness and pinches the other between two of his fingers, then alternates until both are fully stiff under the cool air. 
The effects of the pollen are starting to get to you. You were the one who instructed him to take it slow, but waiting for him to give you the relief you so desperately need is killing you. You can feel the thoughts in your head becoming less coherent.
Kakashi pulls his mouth away from you and reaches between your legs. At first, he simply touches your folds and playfully explores the area as if he’s teasing you. Just as you’re about to scold him for doing so, two fingers are being thrusted in and out of your soaked entrance. You groan and curl forward. You’re so, so relieved that you’re finally being touched, but so frustrated that you still need to cum for the pollen to wear off. Kakashi uses his thumb to toy with your clit and watches his drenched fingers disappear into you with intent.
“A-Ah… Don’t look at me like that,” You pout, glancing at the wall past Kakashi’s shoulders. “You’re making me self-conscious.”
“There’s nothing for you to be self-conscious about, especially compared to me,” Kakashi responds in a low tone. Your eyes snap back to him. What does he mean, compared to him? Regardless of his hand palming you and his deft fingers teasing your clit between your slick folds, you find yourself staring at Kakashi’s body. What could he have to be self-conscious about…? He has a perfectly sculpted body, beautiful porcelain skin, soft silver hair, dainty thin lips, and sharp eyes. The only things you could think of would be the infinite amount of scars he has, but you’ve never thought anything of them. “You’re beautiful, always, but especially like this.”
“You don’t have anything to be self-conscious about either, you idiot.”
Kakashi doesn’t say anything to that, instead looking at where he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt, and then up at your sweat-dampened face. 
“You ready?” Kakashi asks, to which you nod your head. 
Kakashi gently pulls his fingers from you and lines the head of his cock up with your entrance. It’s large enough that your eyes widen at the sight of your hips being pulled down onto it. You’re so wet that he gets it in without much trouble, but the tightness and the friction of it has both of you letting out a choked sort of noise and melting into each other. 
“Kakashi,” You cry out as you struggle to take his length all at once. Even with the slight amount of prep he did mixed with the pre-existing slickness from the pollen, it’s so large and thick that the stretch borders on painful. “Kakashi, I can’t-”
“What, you can’t handle me?”
“I can-” You start, then gasp when Kakashi’s hands on your hips shift your lower body closer to him. Your tits are pressed flush against his upper chest, your belly brushes against his shredded abs, and you’re filled to the brim with his cock. When he bucks his hips up into you to meet the bounces of yours, he slips a hand between your legs and massages your clit. With a sharp inhale, you manage to force out the following words as you dig your nails into his shoulders. “I can handle you.”
“Typical (y/n). You’ve always loved to challenge me,” Kakashi whispers, nipping at the shell of your ear as he does. “Fuck…”
Kakashi pulls back to look you in the eye. In the darkness of the cabin, the two of you are only slightly illuminated by the moonlight that pours in through the window. The one other light source is the ruby red glow of Kakashi’s sharingan. It feels like it’s piercing through you as you watch the tomoe swirl. You realize that he’s recording this moment, this love, for himself.
Maybe he’s loved you for longer than you thought. 
That love is evident in the way he stares at you like he’s obsessed, evident in the way he touches your body like it’s a masterpiece, evident in the way he fucks up into your body like he’s been waiting forever for this, evident in the way he whispers sweet nothings to you like you’re something to be cherished instead of just a teammate or even just a friend. 
Kakashi wraps his arm around you and holds you close so he can fuck you hard. It’s been a bit since you’ve done anything with anyone- Anbu is a cold, hardening organization and most of the time, at the end of the day, you just want to collapse onto your bed and cry yourself to sleep. On the occasions that you’ve dated or slept around, however, it’s been with civilians. It’s always been that way, just because it’s easier to not see them after everything inevitably falls apart. So, you’re not used to being flush against chiseled muscles covered in scar-mapped skin, nor are you used to being fucked with the strength and energy of a shinobi such as Kakashi.
Most importantly, though, you’re not used to someone who loves you fucking you. Pollen aside, this is more like making love than fucking with how Kakashi rushes to press your lips together and kiss you until you feel like you’re drowning on it. He pulls back, just briefly, to nip at your neck with his fangs and suck hickeys into the skin along your shoulder and the side of your neck, before pushing his lips back against yours. It’s so messy and desperate that a dribble of spit drips down the side of both of your mouths, but neither of you care enough to pull back and wipe it away. 
Kakashi shudders and sighs into you when the walls of your hot, wet cunt tighten around his cock. He takes that as encouragement to help you along and keeps pistoning up into you in rhythm with his thumb circling your clit until your ears are ringing and stars light up behind your eyes. Pleasure tears through you.
“I love you,” You moan against his lips as you finish, too relieved by the electric feeling of release that courses through your veins to be embarrassed.
Meanwhile, Kakashi seems to revel in it; your vulnerability, your presence, your body, your overstimulation.
“Sorry, what was that?” Kakashi teases. “I couldn’t quite hear you over all the noise you’re making.”
“I said I love you,” You murmur and rest your forehead against Kakashi’s while holding his face in your hands. “I really do mean that.”
You slump into Kakashi, weakly continuing to grind down onto him so he can finish, too. He moves his hand away from your clit to let you recover to some extent, but keeps thrusting up into you. You reach up to wipe the drool on the corners of your lip that comes from how Kakashi is making your mouth water. You’re overstimulated and you’re not sure if Kakashi’s hardness lingering inside of you is painful or pleasant or both.
“I love you, too,” Kakashi breathes out. “You look like you’re doing better, but I’m not quite done yet. Do you need me to move us?”
“Y-Yeah, I think so,” You nod. Your orgasm knocked the wind out of you and your legs and arms are shaking like crazy with the strain of riding Kakashi’s large cock while strung out on this pollen. You slow to a stop with Kakashi still throbbing inside of you, in need of release. You don’t know if it’s been five minutes or five hours. “Please, take over.”
“On your knees,”Kakashi slides out of you with a slick noise and grabs you by the hips to flip you around. He bends you over and pushes you onto your arms and knees before pushing his length back into you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion and blush at the slow trickle of your wet arousal dripping down your inner thighs. “There you go, you’re taking it so good… Fuck, I’m close…!”
“Then cum so we can leave already,” You grunt. Your head is spinning so fast that you’re barely able to get the words out. At first, you were at least able to muster the strength to stay on your hands and knees. Now, with Kakashi’s hips slamming against your ass at an increasing pace, you can’t keep it up. You drop to your forearms. The pleasure and pain is all so overwhelming with the pollen coursing through your body that your arms give out and have you stuck with your face buried in the bedsheets and your ass held up in the air by Kakashi’s rough grip on your waist. “Seriously, I’m about to cum again, so hurry up and finish before I pass out or something…!”
“Don’t act like you don’t want it, (y/n),” Kakashi growls and reaches up with one hand to thread grab you by the hair and twist your head just enough to make you look back at him. “If I weren’t so desperate for you, I’d make you beg for it.”
You let out a loud, breathy whine, but you don’t dare to argue with him- lest he actually make you beg. That’ll have to wait for next time.
Hopefully, there is a next time.
Kakashi’s thrusts finally start to become more rough and haphazard, signaling to you that he’s getting close. You muster your last bit of energy to throw your hips back against his. Pathetic little cries leave your throat and echo through the night air of the dark, lonely cabin as Kakashi’s fingers and thumb dig into your hips so hard that you’re sure you’re going to have a hand-shaped bruise come morning. 
Kakashi suddenly lets out a loud groan and stills with his cock buried in you as deep as possible. That last thrust mixed with him coating the walls of your cunt with his cum drags you over the edge once more. He pulls his hand from your hair and lets go of your hip so he can put his hands on the bed on either side of you and bend forward to rest his cheek against the middle of your back. 
“Kakashi…” You start, but you’re unsure of what you want to say.
After that- after everything- what could you say?
“(y/n)...” Kakashi whispers and presses a kiss into the skin of your back before pulling out and laying down on the bed.
You flip over as well, lying on your back, just as Kakashi does. The two of you catch your breaths while staring at the ceiling. You turn to your side to face your lover (?), who you rush to touch once more.
“Do you feel any better?” You ask while tracing a finger up and down Kakashi’s bare, sweaty chest.
“Yeah, I think the effects are wearing off. Sorry if I was a little rough with you, I was just… Under the influence of the pollen. Not that it’s any excuse. I’m a little embarrassed now, thinking about the things I said,” Kakashi takes a deep breath, exhales, and turns to check on you. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. We should be good now, I think.”
Weirdly enough, you can’t bring yourself to snap at him like you would’ve just hours ago. You try to stand from the bed so you can get dressed, only to stumble from the strain that was put on your body. Kakashi rushes to catch you by the arm and pull you back down to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Want some help?” He offers, moving to sit next to you on the bed and putting a hand on your shoulder. 
“Um, sure…”
Slowly, Kakashi cleans the two of you up, helps dress you in clean and comfortable clothes from your bag, fixes your hair, puts your forehead protector on over your head, and gets himself dressed and ready to go. He stands and puts both of your bags over one shoulder to carry them. You remain sitting on the bed, simply watching his every move.
“You’re quiet,” Kakashi points out.
“Not much to say after all that,” You mutter. “Except… I do love you back, if you really meant what you said. If it was just the pollen talking, then you can pretend I’m joking and we can go back to hating each other, and-”
“I meant it. I really do love you,” Kakashi interjects. Then, he steps forward and tenderly pushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “I wanted to talk about this more, but we should go dispose of those bodies back at enemy grounds and make sure that there’s not any more of them. The pollen that was released back there should’ve worn off by now.”
“Fuck, I forgot about that entirely…” You sigh and scratch the back of your neck. “Do we have to include what just happened to us on the mission report?”
“I think I’d literally rather die than tell anyone back in Konoha that we fucked because of sex pollen,” Kakashi laughs, shaking his head. “Now, let’s get going before the Hokage starts getting suspicious about why it’s taken us so long…”
With that, the two of you leave the cabin, your head on Kakashi’s shoulder and your hand in Kakashi’s hand.
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