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imaginesmai · 7 months

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His precious treasure - Eris Vanserra

First time writing for Eris! Let me know what you think

Plot: Beron manages to ask the right questions at the wrong moment, making Eris suspicious of your safety. His hidden treasure in the forest, where he cannot get fast enough.

Warnings: mention of torture, death and blood.

His steps resonated through the long corridor, servants and guards bowing to his presence. They never met his eyes, not even when he was just a young prince who barely reached their waists. He used to fool himself thinking it was out of respect, out of fear. But Eris had learned that it was easier to ignore the problems of their loved court, the abuse, when they didn’t look at him.

Countless times he had walked down those corridors with blood streaming down his face, bloody nose and bruised eyes. Burned flesh and peeled skin. It used to bother him their indifference, but that day, he barely paid them any attention.

All his focus was set in leaving the palace he called home as soon as possible without looking suspicious, without letting anyone know the terror that threatened to paralyze him.

Eris could feel his eye bruising, the burn marks on his back and chest from his father later outburst. He didn’t mind the abuse, could endure it just fine. What was breaking his soul in two were the answers his father looked with that abuse, and that he had managed to hide. But Beron was asking questions he shouldn’t have been formulating.

“Tell me, my son. Why do I keep receiving notices of your disappearances? Why are my guards worried that you might be lacking in your efforts to keep this court standing?” Beron had asked before backhanding Eris in his office. “Should I be worried about your not-so-subtle trips to the forests?”

The excuse had fallen from his mouth naturally, like he had always planned. Testing the borders for possible threats, assuring the outer posts were functioning correctly, searching the ground with his hounds.

Eris had swallowed every hit and humiliation with a tight jaw, only answering when he was spoken to. He had closed you off the bond and hoped to be strong enough for you not to notice. Then, Beron’s had asked him that damned question and his resolution had cracked.

“You look distracted lately, maybe that’s why you keep forgetting to update me about your whereabouts” Beron snarled, as if the sight of the blood spilled by his hand unsettled him. Then, he locked his eyes with Eris and fire danced behind them, and he smiled. “Maybe it’s the recent lack of servants what has your mind busy. Strange and unexplained disappearances, right?”

He was sure Beron had bought his indifference, or he wouldn’t have let him go. But he still raced through the hallways, a bad feeling twisting his gut. Running would catch too much attention, yet he knew leaving after his father’s questions was an answer by itself.

Eris prayed to the Cauldron, to whoever had unanswered his prayers through his life, that he arrived to the cabin with enough time to make things right. If Beron was asking about missing servants, he could only be talking about you. The kind-hearted lesser fae who had the misfortune of being his mate.

Three years ago, Eris had almost burnt down the entire court one of his brothers got a little too handsy with you. As a servant, you were supposed to endure it and be thankful for his attention. But your heart belonged to Eris Vanserra in secret for almost a century, and you had denied his unrespectful advantages. That earned you a beating that had left you unconscious in the middle of the backyard, where Eris’ hounds had found you.

After weeks of healing in secret and convincing him not to slaughter his own court and find death at the hands of his father, only the promise of your safety had kept him still. He had taken you away to his hidden cabin, where you had been staying part of a cozy side-town, where no one recognized you.

Thoughts of the last three years flooded his mind as he jogged the last steps of the castle, quickly hoisting himself up in his horse and riding off into the forest. He pushed his mare to her limits, until the ground and the trees were nothing but blurry colors.

He wouldn’t waste time thinking why his father hadn’t acted yet, why he had been granted those few minutes to try and save you. The answer was clear when he smelt the uncharacteristic trace of blood in the quiet village.

Eris dismounted without stopping, his mare moving restlessly in the familiar cottage. His heart pushed furiously against his chest, blood rushing to his ears when he noticed the door hanging open by an unnatural angle. Male scents and horses’ prints were all over your hidden cabin.

“Y/N!” he screamed your name, not caring about anything but your safety. With everything about to change, he could throw secrecy as the last of his priorities. “My love, where are you?”

No answer came from the outskirts of the house, and Eris all but threw himself inside. The beating he had just endured almost sent him stumbling to the ground.

The insides of the cabin were a mess, just like his soul. Scattered papers and wooden furniture, broken plates, shattered windows. Fire embers started to fill the messy space as his laborious breathing turned panicked. He leaned against the wall where pictures lay now crooked, and tried to think what to do.

Where to look, who to kill, how to survive knowing his worst nightmare had come true. Eris had always feared having a mate, having someone to love and that loved him back, because he knew the world would take it away cruelly.

What he didn’t expect was the stairs creaking under your weight, and your disheveled head poking through the stairwell. Your eyes widened, at his state, his presence, or his blood. But he didn’t consider much apart from the fact that you were still breathing, somehow, and alive enough to be standing.

His body gravitated forward until you collided into his arms, the composure he had kept during the last hour crumbling like paper against water.

“Eris” you whispered against his chest and his breath hitched, your voice so concerned and soft against his worries. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“You’re alive. You’re alive” he repeated, twice, and willed himself to believe it. “I thought – the door was open, and you didn’t answer. Why didn’t you answer? I called. Didn’t you – didn’t –“

“I didn’t know if it was you. It’s been…”

You trailed off, it wasn’t necessary to acknowledge the obvious mess. Eris pressed you tighter against his chest. Just like those nights where nightmares consumed him, where his father’s reign of terror was too much, he hugged you so tight that your bones creaked under the pressure. You didn’t mind when it was the only thing holding him together.

It was silent for no longer than three seconds, the amount of time it took for the first and only tear to roll down his bruised cheek. If he let himself any more time, if he let his guard down, none of you would make it out of there alive.

Eris ignored the rough phantoms hands he could still feel on his body, the feeling of his father’s fingers tugging on his hair and crushing his throat. His touch was soft and careful as he pulled you away and inspected you with bright eyes. Only a gash on your cheek and a light limp on your left foot. Even if your dress was stained, he didn’t find any threatening injury.

He pushed the anger once more down his chest, until he turned it into resolution.

“How many?”

“Three of Beron’s personal guard. Rookie heard them before they came and I could hide” you motioned with your chin to the enormous dog that guarded the back door, on four and alert. “She took care of the first one, and the other two… it was them or me”

“You did well” Eris whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb under the bleeding wound. “Where are the bodies?”

Those deaths would haunt you for a while. His innocent, kind mate who had been the only one brave enough to risk sending him pain tonics after his father’s beatings. Who took care of his dogs when he couldn’t leave the bed, and stubbornly stayed by his side as he pushed you away.

Eris followed you silently to the first floor, to your bedroom. Where you had spent so many nights tangled together, now three bloodied bodies stood. He could identify which one had been finished by Rookie, their face unrecognizable. His father’s personal guard embroidery stood bright on their uniform, and it threatened to make him vomit.

He fished their bodies for weapons, ignoring the urge to kill them all over again slower a crueler. When he finished gathering what was worthy, he guided you out of the room, his arm around your shoulder.

“Don’t look” he advised you, pressing you tighter when your body trembled. “We’ll be okay”

You had talked about that outcome for three years, and you had spent each borrowed minute like the last one. It wouldn’t be forever, you understood, so you had crafted a plan. An emergency plan that you needed to carry out.

Eris didn’t let you take anything and you didn’t stop to grab your belongings as he lit fire to the cabin behind you. Each step you took made your knees tremble, knowing that Beron had once more managed to drown any hope in your life for your relationship.

Heat scorched both your backs as you exited the cabin, now full ablaze. Eris’ mare was dutifully waiting at the entrance, with the dozens of neighbors that were gathered in a half-circle. They all scattered when Eris walked out, and didn’t get to see how your knees finally gave out. With just one arm, he managed to keep you standing against his chest and grab the reins.

His whole body tensed under the weight of your sobs, that racked your body in sadness. Twice now, he had seen your life crumble because of him, because of who you loved and loved you back. Until Beron was dead, until his body was cold and forgotten, there wouldn’t be a place in Prythian safe from his hands.

And no matter how much it pained, only one was safe enough to last until he killed his father. Or died trying to.

“Y/N” he whispered against your sobs, against your desperation. He held you firmly as you shook your head in denial without looking up from his chest. “It’s time, my love. We don’t have much time”

Maybe his father was stupid enough to think three men were enough to kill you, but they hadn’t returned and Eris had left – and, surely, his father himself would come to end with his son’s happiness and will to live.

Shadows gathered around his feet, but he didn’t look to the owner nor acknowledge the new presences in his court, in his forest. He had long ago granted them access for that day, had supplied them information for his part of the bargain.

Rhysand and his court had kept their promise.

“I don’t want to” you cried, so hard and fearful that his resolve shook. Yet your safety, your life, had always been his one priority.

“It’s for the best. Look at me, Y/N” his voice didn’t harden, he didn’t slip into the mask he wore around them for your sake. “Y/N”

His own voice was broken too, with despair and agony. He too dreamed for a world where he could hold you freely, where he didn’t need his worst’s enemies help to keep his mate alive. But those dreams were not for people like him. Still, he held onto that thread of hope that he would make it through tonight. That, tomorrow, he would comfort you like you deserve, endure your berating about his selflessness and kiss your tears away.

When you finally looked at him, he smiled, ignoring the surprise radiating from his unusual partners. Eris waited until your sobs subsided and you calmed enough to accept the next step.

In silence, he let his eyes tell you everything he didn’t allow himself to say. How grateful he was for your soft hand when no one else dared to help you, for your patience words against his lashings when you helped him. How sorry for each and every scar you carried from his court, his brothers and father, and for not being able to give you the life you deserved.

How much he loved you, witch every fiber of his being, until he was nothing more than embers and ashes, and beyond.

Eris pressed his lips wordlessly against your forehead, his hands holding your head in place. Your own circled his scarred wrists. With the glamour off, everyone could see the scars and marks on his body. You caressed the rough skin and held him tight, until he tore apart.

“I love you. And if I die tonight, know that your love was what has kept me alive for so long” he watched your glossy eyes, your shaky lips. “I only burn for you, my little fox”

“They’re here” Azriel talked, his voice breaking your daydreaming.

A soft spark of proudness lighted in his chest when Azriel tried to gently guide you back and you brushed him off with a stern look. Your eyes, kind and loving for him, were hard and unforgiving for the spymaster. Eris knew they would treat you well, would take care of you, and was sure you would give them hell for him.

You looked at him one last time, sad resolution in your eyes, and kissed the edge of his lips before stepping away. With your torn dress and blood over you, you looked like every inch of mate he adored and cherished.

Azriel finally gripped your wrist with an annoyed frown, and shadows swarmed both your beings just as the first group of soldiers rounded the edge of the town. They wouldn’t be the problem, but the High Lord who rode behind. Eris didn’t allow any of his fears or worries show when he kept eye contact as you disappeared with Azriel.

“Come back for me” you begged him one last time, cracking once more his already broken heart. “Please, my prince. Come back”

“I love you”

He let those words be the last thing you heard from him. Eris was powerful, but his father could crush him like a leave under a boot. Maybe Rhysand would keep to his promise and keep you safe – and still loose you against his father’s armies. Eris was just happy knowing he would die knowing what being loved by you felt. How your arms felt around his shoulders, your breath against his neck.

Eris would die happy because you had chosen him when even he hadn’t chosen himself.

The sound of horses and men screaming got more intense when you disappeared, and the prince prepared himself to face one last battle. His fists lighted up with bright fire, his body vibrating with energy.

He expected a wave of angry soldiers from his right.

Not a stony-face Rhysand looking at him with a raised brow.

“You do love” he proclaimed, his voice laced with curiosity and something else. “I was tempted to believe she was just another one of your tricks. One that assured you your climb to the throne”

“I have business to attended, in case you can’t tell” Eris grumbled, letting loose the rage and anger. “So if you would be so kind, please fuck off”

The first round of autumn males broke through the left with raised swords and angry scowls. Some of them had fought by Eris’ side in the last war, some of them had been by his father’s side as he beat him.

Neither of their faces was marked in Eris’ memory, as they all vanished away to a terrible darkness that swept them off. As if they had never existed at all. The prince’s fire died down a bit as he looked at the High Lord, who had taken his hands out of his pocket and whose violet eyes were shinning dangerously.

For all explanation, Rhysand shrugged and gave away no intention of leaving with Azriel and his court.

“I made a bet on you when we made that bargain. A bet on a new high lord that would change things with me” Rhysand stared at him and Eris didn’t break eye contact, too stunned to speak. “Wasn’t certain it was the right bet, but now I am. I hope we both get to withdraw the price”

Without another word, the world was consumed in a wave of darkness, Beron’s power emerging not so far away. Eris let himself become fire in the dark, brighter than ever, and with the memory of your last smile and the possible hope of a world with you, he launched himself into battle.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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moodymisty · 9 days

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Space marine trio gangbang anon read my fucking mind lol (I also have not played space marine 2 yet, but I hc that gadriel is into degrading praise rather than straight up degradation) like, please God, let me be their personal serf for whenever they need me, doesn't have ti be all of them at once. Just a titjob here, a quickie there. Hell, a hand job would probably enough for msot of them because of their repressed sexual desires. (I feel like a freaking beggar running around the univer going "spare cock? Please? Anyone have spare cock")

Author's note: oops?

Warnings: NSFW, Handjob, Very gentle degradation tbh not really much, Implied being shared among the three of them

Surprisingly, Adeptus Administratum tasks aboard an astartes ship are somewhat lacking. Though it is more than possible that one of a few people had something to do with that.

You won't complain however, no one apart from the most vehemently obsessed would prefer writing tax reports over other things that occur aboard a battlebarge as large as this.

-- come to the astartes barracks --

Normally, they don't even bother with sending messages over vox. It's either quicker to send someone to get you, or get you themselves. Knowing the sender of the message had been far more surprising however.

You've known Titus the longest. He has said that he enjoys your company; Perhaps because unaugmented humans cannot bicker and snub him off in the same way fellow astartes can.

Charion was introduced to you by Titus not long after. He seems kind, almost kinder than Titus in a way; Though it's more than likely that he is simply less afraid to show it.

Gadriel... You don't know him well. You know of him, but he seems completely uninterested in you.

Completely uninterested in that.

You don't know if he was simply being obtuse when saying it, or if he genuinely didn't know what the words for what you are doing with his battle brothers are. He didn't seem to care either way anyways.

Which had made it all the more surprising when you huffed all the way to the astartes barracks, only to find Gadriel standing in the entryway of his quarters waiting. You had thought it just coincidence at first, until he purposely calls you closer while you look for Titus.

You come to him and squeeze inside his barracks from the doorway he mostly blocks- sizable even without armor. The door closes behind you with a dull hiss. It's barren other than the basics, and a few trophies.

"My lord... Do you require something?"

The look Gadriel gives you is more than unimpressed, and dare you think almost... Pouting?

"You call Charion Charion, you call Titus Demetrian, but I get Lord?"

You shirk a bit into yourself, shrugging your shoulders. Having to speak with him is more difficult than the others.

"Will all the due respect, I don't know you."

The look Gadriel gives isn't readable- though it could simply be because you really do not know him like you do his squadmates.

The astartes moves to drop himself sitting onto his bunk, and the horrible creak it lets out crying from his weight worries you it might collapse. Thankfully however, it holds. You don't know if it would've if he was any heavier.

"What you do with them, show me."

A vague question.

You stand dumbly and look at him, watching how his robes lay over his shoulders and chest. The longer you're silent, the most irritated he gets.

"Can you, can you be a bit more specific?"

He looks at your thoroughly unimpressed, eyes glancing you up and down. You feel pressed under his stare in a way you don't know if you like or not. It unsettles a bit, for sure.

"You know. The reason you always smell like them."

Oh. You know what he's referring to now.

Titus and Charion while seeming to genuinely enjoy your company, enjoy something else you offer them outside of the things a normal space marine should know of and desire. Titus had been the first. He's an older marine, hardened and stalwart in his duties but independent.

Titus had offered you to Charion, after you agreed. Hence why despite there being two of them, you still are referred to as being Titus'.

But Gadriel had shrugged them both off, content to have little to no interaction with you other than when he stumbles upon you in their company and the occasional requisition order.

You wonder what spurred on this sudden change.

Stepping closer, he watches you intently as you to try and figure out how to even start. Titus always wants to kiss you- to try and shove his larger tongue right down your throat. Would Gadriel even care? Does he even know how? Then again if he knows enough to demand you show him how you fuck his battle brothers, he would know such a thing, correct? Then again you're well aware from experience the gaps in their knowledge are vast crevasses that take a long time and are often, quite embarrassing to cross.

At least he is thoroughly clean, however. The last time Titus and his squad had been deployed it was a two and a half week rotation, and when they had returned, Titus had eagerly come to visit you and chat once out of armor.

He had however neglected to bathe in his excitement, and upon entering the same confined room as him, you had immediately retched all over the floor.

TItus then left to clean himself of whatever ungodly concoction of putrid things he was still covered in, and you scurried away until the serfs cleaned everything.

Gadriel in comparison smells, dare you say quite pleasant. A heady, musky male odor combined with an almost chemical smell hidden underneath. Titus had said it was from their extra organs, one in particular that embarrassingly, you forgot the name of.

You stand unsure as he watches and you can see him getting impatient, as you speak up again.

"Could you, perhaps be a bit more specific?" The look he gives you is insultingly unimpressed.

"Titus always calls you smart. I don't see it."

You purse your lips, a bit upset at the insult.

"My l- Gadriel, in my defense you are being quite vague..."

The astartes sighs and loses a bit of his rigid posture, letting himself slouch just a bit as the muscle and fat of his stomach folds. You don't know why you suddenly realize just how large he is in that exact moment- how he's still almost at your height while sitting.

"Give me what you give Titus."

That you can at least somewhat work with.

Stepping even closer, you can feel the way your heart is nervously stammering. You only know Gadriel a tiny bit, despite being part of Titus' main squad. He never seemed interested in you until now. He would tend to roll his eyes at particularly Titus giving you any sort of affection, or desiring it when you weren't around.

To get any closer however you decide to walk and place his left thigh between your own; His legs are spread decently far apart enough to make it difficult. The moment your hands touch his chest, you can see him glance down to see. One of them pushes higher to rest on his collarbone, feeling the rough scars on his skin as his robe shifts to reveal more skin.

"Titus says a lot of things about you."

You can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest, incredibly deep. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"I hope they're good things..."

Gadriel's voice is stoic and lacking in obvious emotion, but it's a bit lighter than how he was earlier. You wish you could have any clue on what he was thinking.

"We will see."

Your other hand drifts lower, brushing across his stomach. You hear a small pack of astartes walk around outside, and you unconsciously glance towards the door while your hand twitches away.

"They aren't going to come in here. Quit behaving so nervously. You can do it."

His surprising addition to the end makes your face feel a bit warm, before pulling at the fabric used as underwear.

Astartes clothes are cheap, utilitarian and mass produced, and as it goes quite easy to put on and remove.

When you wrap your hand around his cock you can't even hear Gadriel make the slightest sound, gently dancing your fingers over his skin. You feel his cock twitch in your palm, leaning forward until your own breath is fanning over his skin. Attempting to ignore the way your cunt throbs and brushes against his thigh is a gargantuan task, but you attempt it none the less.

You're close enough that you think you can just barely hear the sound of his hearts, though it could also just be your own blood thumping in your ears. You feel his cock harden in your hand and as your palm drifts up and down his shaft you feel him let out the slightest exhale.

You know from experience that even the slightest slip ups for them are far more dramatic than you would think. If he slipped up enough to let out a heavy breath, you know that it's working.

Only for a moment do you pull away your hand to lick your palm, trying not to have so much dry friction. He doesn't seem to care, but you did. When you wrack your hand around his cock against and move faster, a bit rougher, Gadriel lets out a louder noise before one of his hands reaches to grab your waist.

"Throne girl,"

He grunts out, before you move away. The look he gives you is confused and irritated, as you try and move to kneel between his legs. You think he is about to reprimand him, before he realizes that you haven't decided to just leave him with an aching, leaking erection in the middle of the barracks.

Your jaw aches just at the sight of his cock before your face, wrapping your lips around his tip. Slowly you take more and more of him in your mouth and hear the way he lets out a surprisingly loud groan, feeling the wet heat of your mouth around over half of his cock. It's all that can fit; You wrap your hand around the rest while the other steadies yourself on his thigh.

You can taste the saltiness of skin, sweat and precum in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock. You treat cautiously- you know he more than likely isn't going to last much longer and you know he will not warn you. While a mouth full of astartes cum isn't the worst thing- at least to you though you're sure it's probably an outlier opinion- you'd rather not end up with and unprepared mouthful so much so you choke.

"So this is what they've had you doing instead of Administratum duties?"

You hum to clear your throat and attempt to ignore the throbbing between your legs, looking up briefly to see his furrowed brow and flush to his skin. He lets out a large exhale through his nose, and you feel his cock throb in your mouth.

You think you hear him mumble something- a swear perhaps you don't know, but moments later he cums in your mouth, filling the pocket of your cheek and forcing you to quickly pull away more lest he do actually choke you. It almost hurts to swallow, but when you look up he's staring at you with that stoic astartes expression; Though something is underneath it.

"The chaplains would call this heretical, whoreish behavior." You pull away and wipe your mouth.

"Are you not the one who ordered me? And who let me do such things?" He watches you closely, sternly.

"That I did. And I order you to show me more."

#I haven't finished the game yet so i have no clue if Gadriel like dies or something #gadriel x reader #space marine x reader #space marine 2 x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐗 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 9: WITCH!READER

din djarin x nightsister!reader | smut, 18+ | 1k words

summary: given the task to hunt down an enchantress renowned for her deviancy, din fails to understand just how hard this mission will be to complete.

cw: f!nightsister!reader. dub-con - seduction through enchantment. orgasm denial, threat of cumming untouched, fully clothed, grinding. very similar to something i've already written, but fancied revisiting it - still just as difficult the second time around!!

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 10: CHEATING ⇾

The coordinates handed to Din in the bounty puck Greef Karga had practically thrust into his palm like it carried a bad disease were cursed. The digits and numbers scrawled in blood red pixels across the screen of the Crest when he’d loaded the blasted things might as well have spelt out ❝ ur bantha fodder ❞.

In any other mission upon any other planet, the whole debacle might just have pulled a twitch of a smile behind the Beskar mask. But the crimson of the coordinate pixels are a dead ringer for the ruddy scarlet of your irises, and suddenly Din was struggling to find the humour in this lethal situation he’d miraculously and carelessly found himself in.

Instead, Din watches a sinister smirk creep across your face, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Dire straits were never straighter than a Zabraki Night Sister on her home planet of Dathomir.

“I cannot claim to have seen your kind here before,” your velvety voice trickles down Din’s spine. Admittedly, there's an inexplicable agitation dancing in his fingertips, suddenly unsure to the extent just how precarious this fragile stand-off was. Clenching his fists, he steels himself against your probing gaze and reminds himself of the Nightsister’s proximity to the force, and their ability to wield it.

“I–”

“I know,” you muse, approaching Din with balanced, measured steps. “A member of the Bounty Hunter Guild. You don’t have to state your business.”

Din’s teeth ache under the pressure with which he grinds his jaw. An impossible foe, he should have considered the risks before arriving on Dathomir. A Nightsister was the last target he could improvise his battle strategy for…

“I do appreciate your desperation,” you hum softly, practically stalking around Din and tracing the silver surface of his Beskar armour with the tip of your index finger, “I am sure that the occupation allowed for frequent travelling. In turn, it protects the child.”

A purge bomb could drop in utter silence and Din was almost certain he’d miss it, a rush of blood roaring in his ears as his heart rate lept. Your eyes find his own through the visor of his helmet with unsettling ease, given it obscured his face.

The moment Din comes to realise he was truly outmatched, he finds himself unable to retreat.

“Hm,” you smile again, a glint of something cunning gleaming in your eyes as you watch him struggle, “I wouldn’t bother, Mandalorian.”

A grumble of indignation twists violently on Din’s tongue, curdling into a gasp of pleasure. It’s barely there, almost silent, but the victory that dances in the voids of your eyes tells Din you heard it.

“I must confess,” you murmur, watching as Din starts to feel his knees beginning to buckle at the pleasure that was bubbling beneath his skin, “I enjoy your vulnerability. I never imagined a man as imposing as yourself would be so easy to make mewl.”

If not for the phantom palm applying pressure to his cock, Din would have snapped back with some snarky comment. Instead, he feels entirely tongue tied, eyes rolling back as bliss almost split him down the middle.

“Though it leaves me little fun,” you admit solemnly, your eyes not quite matching your dispirited timbre, “I need to establish a new objective. Perhaps steaming up that visor of yours?”

Finally buckling beneath the weight of the armour and his shuddering body, Din’s knees hit the dusty, red Dathomirian ground. He groans softly, cock straining in his pants as he watches you lean over him, studying every twitch and writhe of his arousal-riddled body. You seemed to appreciate the pathetic whine that builds in the back of his throat as he rocks his hips forwards, grinding his crotch into the seam of his trousers for some friction, anything to ease the agonising throb.

“I usually make intruders suffer– though it’s customary to torture them with pain, I find pleasure makes a person far more malleable,” Din hears you address him with such ease, as though you hadn’t reduced him to a blubbering, trembling wreck with the mere thought of doing so. “This… Greef Karga. He’s aware of the bounty you seek, correct?”

“Ohh–” Din breathes and it’s pathetic. Almost like a wail, the sound travels across the open, rocky Dathomirian plains. You raise an eyebrow, prompting Din to speak– and it’s though the words fall from his loose tongue before he can trap them behind his lips.

“Yes– He-fuck-he knows it’s y-you–,” the sound startles Din. His voice sounds unlike himself, breathy and gritty and desperate to cum- stars, he’s so desperate to cum!

He tries to stretch his thighs open wider, praying it will alleviate some of the building pressure, but his pelvis seems to have a mind of its own and starts to grind against the inseam of his flight-suit trousers that lays flat against his cock. The friction causes a gut-wrenching groan to rumble in his chest.

“Karga. I don’t suppose he sent you because he was too fearful to face me himself? Tell me, what was I deemed a fugitive for?” You muse, circling Din’s writhing body and prattling off a long list of potential reasons for the sextuple digit bounty hanging above your head. “There was the jedi I killed, that sith who inquired about my services– to which I didn’t realise I was aiding and abetting Emperor Palpatine, for your informati–”

“The assassin, Ventress–” Din grit out behind his teeth, cock pulsing in his trousers and threatening to empty his seed like a teenager. “He’s looking for her.”

He watches you pause, chest heaving while observing the surprise at this revelation. Three months ago, the guild had issued the ‘hit’. The bounty was for information instead of your head delivered to Greef Karga in a basket. None of them had ever been stupid enough to believe themselves strong enough to take on a Nightsister.

“Now,” you grin, crouching to face Din eye-to-eye. There’s that gleam again, the teasing look in your ruby irises sparking arousal down his nerve endings with another strained moan. The building pressure, threatening to spill over and causing Din to vibrate with need cut out almost instantly, the teetering orgasm dying away with the sudden slump of his exhausted body.

“Why didn’t you inquire about Ventress in the first place?” You hum gleefully, amused by the orgasm denial and relishing in having such a strong man beneath your feet, much to Din’s utter embarrassment. “It would have saved you a very steamy visor.”

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh @km-ffluv @decaffeinateddinosauronearth @domaniquessidehoe2 @arrozyfrijoles23 @amisouki @sleepysheepsstuff @chunguk @lundenloves @marylovesdilfs @ninahhh-brahh @namelesshumanperson @limegreenbabx @doggydale @wiltedwonderland @justsayk

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chesometer · 1 year

Text

Been replaying Dragonspyre with my friend and one thing that I’ve always found fascinating about it is the way that it handles the ghosts.

All throughout the world, you see that every human has been killed. Dragonspyre is a ruined world, and the only people still around are the servants of the dragon titan. In place of everyone who’s been killed, a ghost stands where they once stood.

What I love about the ghosts is their various levels of comprehension of the state that they’re in. Some of the ghosts acknowledge what happened, that the dragon titan completely razed their world. However, many don’t. In fact, there’s a decent number of Dragonspyre ghosts who flat-out don’t even realize they’re dead. One that struck a cord with me in particular said something to the effect of “I’m no longer tangible”, seemingly understanding his state as “still alive but not able to touch things for some mysterious reason”. Many of the ghosts make excuses for the fact that they can’t do what they once did when they were alive. This is either because they don’t realize they are dead, or my interpretation, that they don’t want to acknowledge that their lives were cut short.

I also love that so many of the ghosts are very much stuck in their ways from when they were alive. It’s basically left up to interpretation whether that’s a symptom of them being a ghost, or if that militant adherence to order and rules is a symptom of growing up in Dragonspyre’s culture that’s impossible to shake. There’s an NPC, Belia Windgazer, who is still running paperwork for the vaults, even though that paperwork is coming from and going to no one, and is not useful for a single person. It’s running through the motions of the busywork that you did when you were alive, and that’s kind of nightmarish. Even in death, they don’t get any rest.

Another NPC, Zanna Fireflower, has made it her main priority to secure a tower that has visibly been toppled a long time ago, leaving only a single floor. She sees this as a necessary military accomplishment. However, in the present day, this is basically entirely meaningless from both an objective and political viewpoint. Gaining control of this tower does nothing for nobody, the tower doesn’t even stand there anymore. Is this fixation simply something that is static beyond the grave, or is it such a point of pride for her that she can’t let go of such a pointless task all these years later?

Playing through Pirate101 and getting to the point where you meet the four ghosts of Ratbeard’s crew adds a new layer to this situation as well. In that game, those ghosts cannot move on from the mortal realm and go to the next life because they still have unsettled business in this world. Does that imply that with such a massive tragedy on Dragonspyre, the dragon titan not only killed countless people, but doomed them to never rest in peace and move to the next world due to the fact that all of their lives had been cut tragically short, leaving every one of them with unfinished business? Absolutely horrifying stuff

#dragonspyre #w101 #wizard101 #p101 #pirate101 #wiz101 #wizzy fandom #wizzy101

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eloquent-edits · 7 months

Note

Hello!!!!

I'm writing a rivals to lovers office AU and am in need of some inspiration. Can you please do a list of office AU prompts? I don't mind if they get suggestive.

Absolutely! (Also thank you for being the first person to request prompts :3)

Character A and character B have issues with their work computers at the same time, and the poor IT guy has to deal with their bickering while fixing the computers

The printer is constantly breaking and A can’t help but snidely remark on B’s struggle every time it happens

B critiques A’s work whenever they get the chance, claiming A needs to do better if they want to get up to B’s level (the criticism is actually kind of helpful, just poorly worded)

B’s desk is across from A’s, leading to stare-downs when the other seems to be slacking on work and eyebrow raises when personal calls are taken

A leaves anonymous sticky notes on B’s desk about office drama, rumors, and random news stories to see what sort of conversations B likes (B usually looks at these with confusion, throwing them away buT THEY KEEP SHOWING UP WHY)

In the company project group chat, A and B don’t acknowledge each other outside of emoji reactions unless it is necessary

They are forced to work together on a major project with much longer hours than they expected, leading to sleep deprived A actually being nice to B in the mornings (they share a quiet moment at the coffee machine)

B’s ex comes into the office as another company’s assistant, and A can’t help but be concerned at the grimace and pain in B’s eyes

A starts using the printer incidents to ask about B’s history and get to know them better

A celebration at work includes a happy hour, so B dresses up just a little more than usual and A cannot stop staring

B notices A is lingering around their desk more and teases them about wanting to take their spot (A definitely wants to take them in a fight right?)

A’s car won’t start in the parking lot, so B offers to jump it… it’s the first time seeing B less professional (let’s get those sleeves rolled up and a couple buttons loosened from the button-down)

The AC breaks while only a couple people are in office, meaning it’s up to A and B to try and fix it while waiting on maintenance, leading to B on a ladder and A most definitely trying to not stare at their butt

C, an older friend at the office, retires and throws a massive party where A and B get a little too drunk, and B accidentally compliments A instead of criticizing them (A doesn’t know how to process it and B refuses to acknowledge this ever happened)

After A openly disagrees with one of B’s ideas, B confronts them privately, getting a little too close as A is stubborn and standing firm (give me that tension you can cut with a knife, give me that turn away because otherwise one of them will do something they regret)

B finds A asleep at their desk one morning and can’t decide whether to wake them up for the meeting or to let them sleep longer because this is definitely not normal for A

Turns out A worked their ass off to get a major promotion, one that B was eyeing for a while, which makes B jealous and get a little snappy

A is shifted to another area of the office and an annoying coworker, C, takes over the old spot. B finds the change welcoming and unsettling (“They’re not here to bother me anymore…” “That’s a good thing!” “… Yes. I suppose you’re right.”)

B is called into A’s office to discuss another coworkers’ weird behavior, which gives A the opportunity to call B out on their behavior around A

“It’s like on day one of me working here, you put a note in your calendar that said to torment me whenever you could.”

“You’ve gone from criticizing everything I do to actually being somewhat nice and helpful and then right back to being an absolute prick! I don’t understand it at all. What changed? You still seem to hate me, so why be so kind? Why?”

B doesn’t respond with words, just by slowly reaching out to touch A’s hand and swiftly pulling them into a kiss (ideally B would explain more later but that’s up to you hehe)

#answered asks #prompt request #writing prompts #writing #prompts #prompt list #character dynamics #rivals to lovers prompts #rivals to lovers #dialogue prompts #imagine your otp #office aus #office au #also very sorry for the delay in responding!#it’s been a really hectic week #and the next two weeks are going to be just as insane

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charmac · 4 months

Note

just wanna say I agree wholeheartedly with your tags on that fandom post. I have been following sunny on here since 2015 and there is a constant cycle of sensitive, and frankly delusional people, who claim the show, make crazy headcanons and justifications to make it tolerable and acceptable to them before they eventually shun and condemn the show altogether. it was very bad in 2018 and made me withdraw from the fandom lmao. I remember being most annoyed with the endless woobifying of charlie and the absolute condemnation of dee above everyone else. like, they're all bad. that's the point of the show. I just don't understand how they could stomach it in the first place

You are a warrior, dude.

The reason it took me so long to join Sunnyblr in the first place was the fact that ~early 2020 I was rarely seeing anything here that was based in canon, mostly weird headcanons that made no sense to me, and Reddit genuinely seemed like a more based place to exist for this show.

I literally needed a friend to give me specific accounts to follow because the tag was (and, sorry, lowkey still is) a nightmare. (Though to be fair I’ve been in fandoms on Tumblr for over a decade and literally never liked scrolling tags.)

I got into Sunny and I fell in love with Sunny because of canon. Because it’s so fucking weird and fucked up but it’s FUNNY, and there’s genuinely nothing like it. The characters are horrible stupid terrible people but they’re actually deeply complex and rich to study, so much so that you feel extremely compelled in a multitude of ways to dedicate yourself to some part of them, or all parts of them. But.. if you strip them of those core identities, of what the characters stand for, that compulsion is gone, void, irrelevant.

Because it’s the extremely raw, almost purely acting on basic instinct, unfiltered humanity, worst parts of the self, inability to recognise or follow societal norms aspects of these characters that are relatable. It’s relatable in a way that *should* make you uncomfortable, feel unsettled, and maybe a little relieved that these parts of people can be acknowledged... That’s a unique and interesting feeling, something people engage with media like this to explore and expand upon, and it’s often something that genuinely helps or supports people who wrestle with a lot of the heavy concepts Sunny satirises (and sometimes just, shoves at you head on).

When people start to disregard all of this, for whatever reason they do, that’s when you end up with the Fandom using Sunny Characters as an “ability to project” or (much worse) a “near blank canvas to play with” (because, yeah, if you strip them of their literal reason for being created and continued existence, ofc you lose their whole identity!?)

The problem seems to be that either 1) they just don’t understand the show well enough to get that they’re disregarding this aspect of the plots and characters, and so they genuinely don’t recognise that the fandom for Sunny exists because of these terrible compulsions and insane trauma exploration and that’s why we enjoy discussing and playing with these characters or 2) they do understand this but they can’t engage with it without some kind of personal moral conundrum or extreme discomfort, so they have to sanitise or completely alter the characters to enjoy them.

The thing is, if you fall into category 2, you just don’t belong in the depths of it all, and it’s an unfortunate truth you have to face. If you cannot enjoy canon, if the actual show makes you extremely uncomfortable and you’re only here for a gay ship or to project your gender and sexuality onto one character, you need to go stan something else. I say that with the greatest intentions for you. As Anon here has stated, it’s an insane cycle in this fandom over and over, you’re just going to upset yourself and resent the show and the people here, because we like the canon and the fuckery because that’s what the show is for. That is the literal point of the show at the end of the day.

Now if you’re in category 1, I heavily encourage you to actually *talk to people about the show and the characters*, read analysis, watch the episodes with different frames of reference and in alternate states of mind. Do your own analysis or character work, try and just write out the plot of your favourite episode and put to words *why* you like it. Hell, try and write a fanfic or a spec script from the mind of one of the characters, even if you think you can’t write.

Honestly, honestly, honestly, if you genuinely like this show at face value but you’re only engaging with fanon because you feel like you ‘shouldn’t’ openly enjoy the canon because it’s seen as ‘bad,’ the best thing you can do is have a conversation with someone, or multiple people, who get the show.

That being said, I do wanna open this shell Discord I’ve made to people. For people who *enjoy* the canon, who want to discuss actual Sunny (and also have fun with it, of course!) you’re welcome to join.

A lot of you get it. I’ve made some amazing friends in this fandom and regularly have extremely stimulating and insanely throught provoking convos with the people I’ve met here. I love it, it drives my insane passion for this show and I am eternally grateful to have found people who love this show for what it is. I hope, if you’re struggling to figure out why you like this show or struggling to accept that you like media like Sunny, you reach out or join a conversation and learn to love it too. And if you don’t, if you genuinely hate the canon of this show and only like the version of Macdennis you saw in a dozen different Tiktok edits to Taylor Swift songs, I really hope you move on for your own sake.

#iasip #main tag fuck it #ask #and i’ll say in the tags here #macdennis would be ‘proship’ in literally any other fandom #accept it and make peace with it okay?#all of their canon moments are non con or dubcon at best #and that’s FUCKING FINE THATS WHY ITS APPEALING.#this is not the fluffy gay ship you want #and you’re just gonna get hurt when canon continues to canon #sorry for formatting i’m at the office so i had to notes app this #also im at the office so bare with me if you’re joining the discord rn lol #but i wanted to respond to this #and also i have nothing to do at work rn lol

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thesparklingwriter · 4 months

Text

taking fate into one's own hands

06—understanding

Word count: 1.6k

navi | taglist | masterlist

“The harbour.” you say quickly. “I’d like to see the harbour.”

Morax smiles tentatively and nods. “Alright. That can be arranged. I shall return in an hour.”

You nod and close the door behind you, breathing a sigh of relief. Your relief quickly dissipates as you look at the clothes in your hands. Surely, all these items can't just be for one outfit, right? You turn to Alanna, but she’s gone—she must have slipped out while you were talking to the king.

You lay each piece out on your bed and try to figure it out. It seems you have three pieces per outfit here, which is a relief, but even with that, you have no idea what goes where. Where on Teyvat did Alanna go?

You sigh at the colours on your bed, and instead of fretting over how to wear them, you decide to take a soak in your tub to ease your mounting nerves. Perhaps you are being a little stubborn. It’s frustrating, not knwoing exactly where you stand. Morax’s words must be true, for you do not have proof otherwise, but even so. This arrangement is confusing. But Alanna’s words ring out in your head, and if your being here is for your own good somehow, it would not hurt to make a friend out of the king.

You leave your bath, resolved to be cordial to the Morax, as he has been to you. Perhaps if you do not question him too much, he will naturally reveal the information you wish to know. Alanna has returned from her excursion, having discovered the secrets of traditional Liyuean dress on her travels. She explains each layer to you, even though she knows you will use it as an excuse to give her a break whenever you get dressed for an outing. With each word, she notices the way you visibly relax, and when you say you want to wear the brown set, a colour associated with not only Liyue, but the ruler himself, she does not flinch, nor question you. With a simple nod and barely leashed smile, she puts herself to work.

Morax, on the other hand, finds himself somewhat unsettled. During negotiations, he had been promised a placid and pleasant princess, and so far you had only proved one of those things to be true. Despite your stubbornness, you are pleasant to be around. Much more pleasant than most of the dignitaries he has found himself in company with recently. But he had not been informed of your intelligence, and he now realises that it may cause him some strife. Although he has finished all the tasks he planned for today, he finds himself at his desk once again, reading through requests from his people and noting down the things he finds most important in order to forget his future arrangements with you.

“I am glad the two of you are getting along. It may do you well to have a friend.” Xiao says as he enters the room.

Morax makes a sound that bears an uncanny resemblance to a snort. “I would suggest you wait before firing off the celebratory lights.”

“Always the pessimist.”

“I assume you mean realist. Be frank with me, Xiao. there’s no way that you truly believe she will not find fault in her parent’s reasoning.” Your parents had essentially resigned themselves to death in sending you here, and despite everything, morax can't bear to tell you the truth.

“I believe she will appreciate your honesty.”

“Why do I continue to discuss this topic with you?”

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?”

Morax stares at the prince blankly. The prince stares back.

~~~

“Did you find the chance to read that letter from your parents?” Alanna asks you as she finishes tying a bow out of the ribbons on your clothes. You sigh as you glance over at your desk, the worn paper and the blue-green seal utterly out of place in the luxurious room.

“I haven’t found the time to.” a lie so preposterous that you cannot even bring yourself to conceal it. You have all the time in the world, but looking at that letter would make it seem like it’s slipping from your fingers. It’s too much for you to face. “And I am afraid of what is inside.”

You look up from your nails as Alanna silently pushes the letter towards you, and you sigh. “Alright.”

Reading the letter fills you with questions, and you resolve to ask Morax about them. What is this hidden threat that your parents cannot talk about, but seem to be so afraid of? He will tell you whatever he knows, no matter what it takes. You will make sure of it.

“Your Highness,”

“I am fine, Alanna. I simply wish to go to the harbour already. This room is suddenly feeling cramped.”

“Understood.” Alanna says quietly. Even though she knows your wors weren’t a subtle hint of her to move—as many would interpret it as—she excuses herself anyway. To where? You do not know.

You read over your letter, once, twice, thrice, and no new discoveries come to light. You parents had become more secretive as time went on, but you never imagined they could reach these heights.

A knock on your door drags you out of these thoughts, and you pull yourself together as you approach the door. You expect to see a member of the palace help, but no, it is Morax, with his hair untied once again, thick silky ribbons of it falling over his shoulders. You can’t quite tell if you’re staring or not. On the other hand. Morax is acutely aware of the fact he’s staring at you. Maybe it's the determination in your eyes or the fact that you're wearing his colours… He never would have expected it to cause such a response in him.

He would never deny your beauty, but amidst the turbulence of your first few days here, he might have found himself too preoccupied with thoughts of frustration to really look at you properly. And now he has the chance to; he seems to be enjoying it more than he should reasonably allow himself to.

He clears his throat, and you jump ever so slightly, covering it up with a stubborn cough.

“I thought you might like a brief tour of the palace before we head toward the harbour. I am told you forewent the tour originally. I’m sure it is stifling, always being in your room.”

You want to scold him for making assumptions, but he is correct, and Alanna’s words ring through your head again. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to make a friend.’

So, you steel your face, and you smile. “Alright.”

Morax finds himself somewhat shocked at how easily you agreed. No contest, no look of exasperation… he’s about to question whether you’re feeling well before you speak up.

“I fear I might have been impolite,” You say as you walk down a particularly boring flight of stairs. Despite the fact it was his idea, the king has been relative vague in his descriptions of each room. He seems to only be showing you the things you might find interesting—the library, the gardens, the steam rooms and the pools. He walks at a steady pace, slow enough for you to take the time to take in each room, even though you can tell he normally walks faster. It's this steady pace that allows you to notice the slight stutter in his steps at your apology.

“That is alright. I understand the situation is tense for you. I do not begrudge you for it at all.”

This time, it's you who pauses. “I don’t understand you.”

“You have made that point very clear. I appreciate your transparency.” You’re sure you're making it up, but there’s a slight tone of mirth in his voice. “I’m afraid there is nothing else of interest here. Shall we head to the harbour? Around this time of year, the clothing stalls get new fabrics, and jewellers receive the best stones. If you crave any foods from home, i’m sure we might find one or two.”

You exit the palace through the doors you came through when you first arrived. A soldier at the gates nods his head to the king, but otherwise, there isn’t much fanfare. How can a king roam his own nation without any guards? You fight the urge to question his newfound friendliness, as he hasn't questioned you on yours and strangely enough, you are enjoying this. Even if it is only a little bit.

“You have sunsettias here?”

“Not that I know of. However, our harvest was bountiful this year and we often trade our surplus with other nations. I’m sure there will be vendors with sunsettias to spare.”

“I'm sure that when faced with their king, many vendors would find themselves stocking regional specialities from other nations.”

“I think you’ll find that a decent number of my people do not recognise the king when he is taking a casual stroll.”

“If I were to walk the street at home, I doubt my people would recognise me either,” you reply. It is only a passing comment, one that flies out of your mouth before you can stop it, but Morax seems to catch the melancholy undertones. The letter from your parents flashes in your mind, and instead of feeling frustrated, you just feel a little sad. Your parents clearly feel hopeless about something they cannot share with you, and it hurts.

“I am sorry you had to leave.” Morax replies quietly. “I do not know how I would fare away from home. You have my condolences.”

You nod in response. Silence falls between you as you continue your leisurely stroll to the harbour.

notes: reader losing her mind every time Zhongli has his hair down is my fave part of this series and DEFINITELY has nothing to do with me hahahahhaahahaha

anyway it's so nice to be back I missed it here

Taglist: @tartigglez @ainescribe @blue-sapphire-ink

#genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli fan fiction #genshin fanfiction #choose your own path #[🧡]—taking fate into one’s own hands #zhongli fan fic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #zhongli fanfic #fanfiction #zhongli royalty au #royalty au #genshin polls #polls

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inkdrinkerworld · 1 year

Text

something like ms.honey 2

cw: fluff, a bit of angst, mention of haley, flashback scene, friends to lovers, hotch being emotionally constipated

“I can’t do it,” you mutter on the phone and your friend sighs.

“You most definitely can, don’t chicken out.”

You really can’t, you cannot go on this date. It’ll be a waste of time and a waste of money.

What you’d rather be doing is spending the day with your grumpy neighbour and his energetic eight year old who loves all things sweet just like you.

Except, you’ve not seen them in five days.

Aaron’s more than likely away on a case, and Jack’s with Jessica, but there’s not been a single text and you can feel dread setting it.

You want to reach out, but that feels like more than an admission of worry and you’re not sure if you want to delve into what else it could be.

It’s a little mind numbing the way the Hotchner’s have wormed their way into every routine you have and now that they’re not part of it, it feels like something is missing.

“I think I’m just gonna stay in and do class prep.” there’s a finality in your voice that makes your friend sigh.

“Alright, just,” she takes a breath, “crack a bottle of red.”

You hang up after that, rifling through your cabinets for your craft stuff.

You’re teaching the kids about shapes and slightly about fractions, but you wanted it to be fun- so it required a sacrifice to your Saturday night.

Construction paper in varying colours and Youtube tutorials were how you spent about three hours before your phone rang.

Sighing, you slide ‘answer’ without even looking at the screen.

“Hello?” there’s no answer on the line, just a crackle and a pop.

“Hello?” you pull the phone away from your ear and see ‘AH.’ Frowning, you say a little frustratedly, “Aaron?”

“It’s Jack,” there’s lots of whispering and you get nervous. “Daddy’s downstairs.”

“Are you okay, J?” you find yourself asking, standing and reaching for your keys.

“Daddy’s friends from work are here.” you take a peek out your kitchen window, but see no cars at their house.

“Where baby?” your heart is hammering in your chest.

“My old house, there was a problem.”

“Can you get your dad on the phone?” you ask, ready to get in your car and over to Jack and Aaron.

“I’m supposed to be sleeping,” he admits shyly and you laugh. “I miss you.” he says and you feel your heart swell.

“I miss you too Jack,” god you wish you could hug his little body. “Is everything okay?”

Jack sighs, “It was my mom’s birthday two days ago,” your heart breaks for Jack and Aaron.

Jack had told you about his mom’s funeral when he was over the last time Aaron had been away.

“Daddy was sad, and today Uncle Rossi came over because he made a mistake.”

“It’s all good now though?” you ask and Jack says a little, ‘yeah,’ but he sounds sad. “Do you want me to stay on the phone till you fall asleep?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Can we do a video?” he asks and you switch over immediately, finding Jack’s face smushed to his pillow.

“You look so cozy,” you tell him and he smiles, a little blush taking over his face. “What story do you want?” you have a couple of his favourites still at the house.

“Jungle book again, please.”

You read only a couple chapters of the book before Jack falls asleep, the phone falling to the bed so you’re staring at the ceiling but you don’t mind it.

You’re cleaning up your coffee table when you hear Jack’s door open.

“Y/n?” It’s the first sign of trouble when Aaron says your name like that.

You’re not sure what the trouble could be, but you know it’s unsettling and it makes your skin crawl just slightly.

You curse yourself internally at that thought.

Aaron doesn’t have to call you ‘sweetheart’ every time, friends usually go by first names too.

“Hey,” you say, and there’s a sort of awkward silence that fills the space. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for him to keep the phone, he sounded so sad and fell asleep.” Aaron just shakes his head.

“It’s fine Y/n, it’s been a tough week for him.” it grates on your nerves the way he’s determined to only call you your name, but you nod as Aaron speaks, packing your crafts into your sticker folder and sliding it into your tote bag.

There’s something weird with him.

“Jack said you’d been sad.” you mumble before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sorry.”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. “He likes you,” he says and you smile bashfully. “But yeah, I was. I’m better now though, swear.”

You eye him skeptically, but nod anyway.

“Rossi says I’ve made a mistake.” Aaron says unexpectedly. Your eyebrows knit as you wait for him to continue, “Coming back to the house.”

Aaron doesn’t know why he’s saying all this, truly. It’s frightening the way he opens up to you without even thinking.

He wants to add, ‘and being away from you,’ but you cut him off before the words can slip from his lips.

“Do you think it is?” regardless of what his answer is, you’re planning on keeping your face neutral.

“I’m not sure, it’s done some good, but I think mostly it’s made Jack emotional.”

You can see the struggle plain on his face. He’s at war with himself, but you’re not sure why exactly.

“Do what feels right for the two of you.” you say softly and he nods.

Seeing him and hearing that he wants to possibly stay at the house reminds you that they’d never been permanent, no matter what you had thought.

It bubbles an anger that’s really embarrassment and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel wrong.

Wrong for letting them into your routines, wrong for getting so used to them being in your space, wrong for your friendship turning into a crush.

“I gotta go,” you say and Aaron nods. He can tell something’s wrong, but prying seems wrong.

Everything seems wrong now.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight.”

You go another week without the Hotchners but this time they’re home. In their house right across the street.

Jack still waves at you from inside their gates, but he doesn’t come over and you hardly see Aaron.

There’s something odd and it’s eating away at you. You hate the limbo of not knowing what’s going on, but you knew it was bound to happen after that phone call.

You give Jack his ‘something sweet’ every week though, still giving him double the regular batch even if Aaron isn’t talking to you.

Your week has been mostly the same routine, wake up, go to school, teach the kids.

Except today.

Everything’s been turned on its head since the moment you woke up.

You’re late. And you’re never late, not even five minutes.

Your alarm didn’t go off, and now you’re about to be an hour late for school because you haven’t had breakfast or showered yet.

The only good thing is that you called in the moment you got up and let the school know you’d be late. Other than that? It’s been a shit show.

As you step out the door, you see Aaron hovering by your gate.

You’re only slightly disturbed by his presence, especially the beard he’s grown. “Is something wrong?” you ask as you lock your door.

“You’re still here.” he’s got an almost relieved tone to his voice.

“I’m late,” you explain softly and he nods, stepping back as you open your gate. “Are you sure nothings wrong?”

Aaron never grows a beard, and he never comes over in the morning even when you were talking.

Sure you being late is uncharacteristic, but it doesn’t warrant a visit from him- especially after all this time.

“You haven’t called me ‘Aaron’ in almost two weeks.” he grimaces after the words leave him like he wasn’t supposed to say anything.

“You haven’t spoken to me in almost two weeks.” you counter as you reach your car. “I’m not doing this right now, you have your reasons fine whatever. I have to get to work.”

You’ve never been this cursory with him ever, and it stings, but Aaron nods.

Your day doesn’t brighten much from there. The kids are all a bit restless and teaching fractions doesn’t go as smoothly as you’d have liked, but they’re understanding the differences a lot better now.

You don’t force it on them after lunch though.

Instead, you let them go over their writing and reading and help them make crafts till the last bell.

Aaron’s outside waiting for you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

Sure you missed him, but like this, he’s two steps away from making your bad day worse.

“Come pick up Jack with me? He hasn’t seen me for the day.” you want to ask why, but you don’t want to be reinvited into their lives like this.

“Aaron,” you want to tell him no. You want to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, to pretend you don’t exist because it was so easy for him over the last two weeks.

But there’s something about the way his shoulders drop and relax as you say his name that has you caving. Something about that Aaron Hotchner smile, that’s not even a smile that wins you over.

“Fine.”

He knows using Jack to force the two of you together is wrong, but after Rossi and Reid grilling him, he wants to make amends.

“You stopped speaking to her?” David is livid. He knows exactly why Aaron had stopped speaking to you but he hates that he’s allowed his worry to rule him again.

“Hotch, she was nice.” Spencer chimes and Aaron rolls his eyes and sucks at his teeth.

“None of you have met her!” he hisses and Spencer shrugs.

“Jack talks,” is all Reid says and David nods.

“Yeah, the kid’s practically in love with her. He even shared some of that chocolate babka she made for you, she’s got a good hand for it.” Rossi says and Aaron smiles despite it all.

Rossi wants to tease him, but the smile has something sad about it.

“That’s why it can’t go on Dave, she’s someone to lose now.”

David and Spencer sigh and lean forward at the round table.

“And you pushing her away is what? Keeping him from losing her? It’s premature even for you, Hotch.” Rossi’s words are weighted, but it’s Spencer that gets to him.

“Jack’s going to lose her twice, once as his friend and then again as his neighbour. When she realizes you’re done with whatever it is you had, she’s going to leave Jack alone to avoid you.”

There’s an implied, ‘and it’ll be your fault,’ that Spencer politely refuses to add verbally.

The words had been swimming around his head all week but he didn’t know how to approach you about it to apologise.

“Did you drive here?” you ask as you reach your car, looking up at Aaron to see him shake his head.

“No, um, Spencer dropped me off.” you nod though you have no clue who this ‘Spencer’ is.

“Get in,” you mutter, sliding into the front seat and starting the car.

The ride is mostly silent and uncomfortable.

It’s stifling that the two of you are this silent but clearly have something to say.

It’s causing a stress knot at the back of your neck now that you think about it.

“Can you just say whatever it is you want to? The tension is ridiculous.” you murmur, eyes darting between Aaron and the road.

He feels gross all over at the way you’ve dismissed him even while speaking to him- but Aaron knows he’s deserved this.

“I’m sorry.” he starts and you frown. “For being distant, and for not coming over. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” he says softly, almost like he’s ashamed of his actions.

“That’s not why I was upset,” you reply, pulling into the parking lot of Jack’s school. “You stopped being my friend. You put distance between us when you went back to your old house, and I didn’t know why. Then when you came home you couldn’t even look at me and say, ‘We can’t be friends anymore’ you just shut me out.”

There’s a long silence in the car as Aaron tries to pick his next few words and you feel like you probably should’ve never said anything to begin with.

“We’ll talk later,” he says as the children start rushing out.

You stay in the car while Aaron gets Jack and sigh. Your forehead is pressed against the steering wheel when the back door opens and a rowdy Jack pushes his face up to yours.

“Y/n!” he screams, and you giggle despite yourself.

“Inside voice Jack,” Aaron corrects softly and Jack nods, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“How was your day?” you ask as you pull out, content to give Jack all your attention if it means that you can avoid whatever is going on between you and his dad.

“Can I come over?” Jack asks as you pull into the familiar road. “Dad?” he prompts when neither of you answer.

Aaron only looks at you.

“Uh yeah babe, but me and your dad have to talk, that okay?” Jack nods, unbuckling his seatbelt as you get out.

“C’mon J,” you call, opening the door and letting him race in.

You set up the tv for him, ‘Little Einsteins’ playing as he sings along. You place a bottled water and a plate of cookies on the coffee table for him too, before turning to Aaron who’s leaning on your kitchen’s arch.

You stare at him from the other side of the archway, waiting for him to speak.

“I couldn’t,” he starts and you cross your arms. “I don’t do well with loss, it’s hard to let people in since Haley died- Jack’s mom.”

God you wish you weren’t so emotional. You can feel tears pricking your eyes just at the mention of Jack’s mom.

“I don’t like putting him in a position where he can lose people. He wasn’t supposed to befriend you, neither of us were,” you nod. “but we did and it started to feel too good being around you.”

You want to stop him, but Aaron bulldozes you and continues, “Things go wrong quickly when they start to feel good. There’s risks that come with being involved with any agent.”

“I don’t think someone would attack me because we were friends Aaron,” you try to joke but he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t even do his little eyebrow quirk and it makes you nervous.

“Maybe not, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Anything could go wrong.”

“Anything could go wrong in friendships that don’t involve agents.” is your counter.

You push off the archway when your brain catches up, “Wait, did you say, ‘didn’t’?” you’re closing the distance between you.

He smiles a little then, only the tip of his smile going up but you see it.

“A couple friends told me I was being premature, in putting distance between us. They also reminded me I was more than capable of keeping people safe.”

You can’t help but smile, “And?”

Aaron’s not off the hook, that much he can tell.

He can also tell that you’re giving in.

“And, I wanted to stop being an ass and I really really missed coming over.”

You shake your head, “What if I didn’t want us to be friends again?”

Aaron pauses for a moment, it’s long and pregnant and it makes you nibble on your lip when you catch onto what he’s thinking, but then he gives you a proper smile this time, “Then I’d go ask Jack to convince you to give us another shot with you.”

“Oh that’s mean,” you mumble and Aaron nods, the toes of your shoes touching now.

“Alright, fine, since you’ve really pulled my leg, I’ll be your friend again Aaron Hotchner.” you say dramatically and he laughs.

“Good, because I really did miss you. More than Jack.” he whispers the last part and you scoff.

“Oh that’s not true, Jack called me.” you say and Aaron’s eyebrows knit together.

“After we came back?” he asks softly and you nod.

“Three times a week from the landline.” The boy in question comes running into the kitchen, an empty plate of cookies in his hand.

“Thanks Y/n,” you take the plate from him, and as soon as his hands are empty he hugs your legs. “Missed you.” he says and you ruffle his hair.

Aaron feels his heart break at the fact that his son had missed you so much, he called you on the house phone. Reid was right, he’d have made Jack lose you twice. He almost did.

“C’mon babe,” you lift Jack to your hip, “Let’s choose something to bake for tomorrow.”

Aaron watches as you go for your cookbook, sitting Jack on the countertop as you both flip through the desserts section.

You all fall into your regular routine after a couple weeks, Jack coming over on a Friday for his ‘something sweet’ and to give you all the details of his week.

Aaron never stays long these days, hard cases that’s mainly long hours but he pops in every night just before you go to bed.

Like tonight, Jack’s still with you, not awake but asleep in your lap, and Aaron knocks on your door.

“Shit,” you mumble, lifting Jack’s head and placing it on a cushion.

“Y/n,” he whines and you pout, kissing his head before jogging off to the door.

“You have to get your own keys,” you say to Aaron, finding him in just his suit shirt, tie and jacket gone. “He fell asleep.”

Aaron shakes his head as he steps in, noticing both you and Jack in your pyjamas as he flicks your locks.

“It’s not even eight thirty, what did you get up to?”

You don’t say a word, but gesture to the coffee table and then to the kitchen.

The coffee table is covered in paper dinosaurs, all in varying colours and species, and the kitchen has multiple tupperware bowls, some with food and others with sweets.

“You’re weak sweetheart,” he chuckles and you shrug.

“He’s nice, and we had fun. Jack pays in compliments and kisses, what’s better than that?” Aaron sits where you had been, raising Jack’s head so it lays in his lap, and pats his free side.

“You shouldn’t be working on crafts on the weekend,” Aaron whispers but you frown. “You should be relaxing.”

You suck at your teeth, “We did relax! We made dinner together and we baked brownies and then we made dinosaurs.”

He just nods, but Aaron wishes he had the time to actually let you relax.

He wishes that he could have a weekend off to take you and Jack someplace where you don’t have to entertain.

There’s a contemplative look on his face that makes his eyebrows scrunch together and his lips purse - you don’t like it even a little bit.

“You’re being weird Aaron.” you say as you reach and smooth the wrinkles in his eyebrows.

“I’ve never been weird,” you giggle softly but don’t say anything and it makes Aaron shake his head. “I’m thinking.”

You pull back from him, “Aaron, please, don’t hurt yourself.” he pushes at your shoulder when you laugh.

“Something serious?” you ask, standing and moving to the kitchen.

Aaron’s about to call out to you when he spots you walking back with a bowl of food and a fork.

“It could be,” he says and he takes the things from you. You flick through the shows, settling on something easy as he eats.

“Are you gonna tell me?” he shakes his head, crunching on a carrot.

“Nah, not yet.” you huff but say nothing, content to just watch your show till Aaron’s ready to leave.

Except, you fall asleep in his lap as well, and he can’t move. He doesn’t mind, not a bit but he does shift a little so he can lay down too with you and Jack on him.

“Fucking perfect.”

The next week is fast, the term is winding down for thanksgiving and then Christmas break.

The kids have been good at the fractions and the shapes, a real change from the last couple of weeks and it makes you feel a teacher’s pride that’s ridiculous.

“You guys are so smart!” you praise as you watch the class name each of the fractions with ease.

Now they’re all eagerly telling you their plans for Thanksgiving, and what their parents are going to be making while you’re in circle time.

“Miss Y/n?” Ben raises his hand as you walk around the room.

“Yeah?”

“What do you do for Thanksgiving?” the class all nod at his question and you smile.

“Uh, well my family and I never really celebrated it. We did the big lunch and dinner for Christmas.”

Another hand goes up and you point to the girl, Lyn, “Will you be alone then?”

They all know you’re not from Virginia.

“Maybe, or maybe I’ll spend it with my neighbours.” you haven’t really spoken of it with Aaron and Jack, but if you have to spend it alone it won’t be as bad as it used to be.

“I hope you do,” Lyn says and you smile.

“Thank you Lyn.”

On your drive home, you think about Thanksgiving and what you’ll do for it, but everything feels too much. It feels weird thinking about doing something when you usually do nothing.

“Y/n!” Jack’s waiting outside your door with Aaron, who has to hold his son’s hand so he doesn’t run over to the car.

“Jack,” you greet and he tugs on your fingers. “What’s wrong baby?”

Aaron comes down to take your keys from you.

“We’re going out,” Aaron says and you frown.

“Where?” you ask and Jack beams.

“Our favourite!” Jack giggles madly and you shake your head.

“Never been.” you say and Aaron smiles. He unlocks your door and watches you and Jack go in before getting in himself.

“That’s even better. We’ll wait for you. It’s not formal. Reservation is for 7.”

Aaron can tell you want to say something, but you don’t. You just make your way to your staircase.

“Y/n, can I have more cookies?” Jack asks and you nod to Aaron.

“If your dad says it’s okay before dinner.”

You don’t stick around to hear whether or not Aaron allows him.

You come back down and Aaron sees you first. Without his conscious consent his belly fills with butterflies and his nerves frazzle.

You’re in a long, blue and orange skirt and a white t-shirt.

Your hair’s been let down, ringlets of loose curls hanging down your back, your glasses replaced with another pair that matches better.

“I’m ready,” you say, watching Jack and Aaron share a cookie as you grab your purse.

“Leave it.” Aaron says softly, offering you a cookie in turn. “You look beautiful.” he compliments and you smile as you pluck the cookie from his hands.

“So pretty,” Jack says as he touches the colours on your skirt. “Like a princess or a fairy!”

“You’re both flirts,” is the only thing you can say, trying to tamper your embarrassment from their attention.

Dinner is easy, conversation mostly abstract.

“What about if you combined the two, a brownie and a cake,” Jack says as they bring dessert out. Aaron had the good sense to get everyone their own hot brownie with ice cream. “A crownie!” he names it excitedly and you giggle.

“We could try babe,” you say and Jack nods, leaning forward and licking the vanilla ice cream on his brownie.

“It’s hot so don’t touch the pan.” you say and he nods. He’s been beside you all evening, much to Aaron’s amusement yet he can’t help the way he notices Jack has been wanting you more and more.

It’s painfully obvious now how much his son had missed you, and for a moment he feels a sharp stab of dad guilt right to his gut.

“Aaron, your ice cream is gonna melt and then me and Jack are gonna have your entire plate.” you threaten, Aaron’s eyes widening as he notices the chocolate stains around his son’s mouth and the nearly gone brownie.

“Yeah dad, eat up or pay up.”

Your laugh is loud at the little Hotchner’s threat.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Aaron says, digging into his brownie before you and Jack team up against him. He still manages to save about half the brownie for the ride home.

The bill comes and you reach for it when Aaron shakes his head.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” It's cruel of him to say it so sweetly and reverently as he fishes his card out of his wallet.

It makes you stumble, and allows him the advantage of paying without another complaint.

Jack knocks out about twenty minutes into the drive back to your house, and from the quiet that surrounds the car you’re tired too.

“You can sleep y’know,” Aaron says as he glances over at you.

You shake your head, defiant, “And leave you up by yourself? Don’t think so.”

He keeps you talking for a little while, before glancing at you and finding your cheek tucked to your shoulder, and your eyes dropping closed.

“Sleep, sweetheart.” he says softly, hand reaching for your cheek.

“Don’t want you to be bored,” you slur and he chuckles.

“Won’t be, promise.” your eyes don’t stay open long after that, certainly not when Aaron keeps stroking your face.

The drive lasts another half hour, you and Jack out like lights.

When he pulls up to your house he grabs your keys from the cup holder.

Aaron’s meticulous as he opens the door and clears the couch so there’s space to place Jack.

The little boy doesn’t rouse, Aaron having perfected the art of transporting a sleeping toddler over the years.

He comes back for you, unbuckling your seatbelt and stroking your arm.

“We’re home sweetheart,” he whispers, watching you turn to where his voice is coming from. “Want me to carry you?” he’s gonna do it unless you say ‘no.’

“I can walk,” you’re groggy, but he moves to let you hop out of the SUV on your own.

Aaron stays behind you though, hand on your back as you walk inside. You stretch and yawn when you’re inside and Aaron smiles.

“Want some tea?” you ask and he shakes his head, he watches you make yours though.

“Thanks for dinner, Aaron.” you say as you hold your mug, taking a scalding sip that makes you hiss.

“Don’t do that,” he says and you frown. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks and you brighten.

Aaron never has the weekends off. Ever.

“You didn’t say you had the weekend off!” you all but scream and he laughs, reaching for your mug as you rush around to his side of the kitchen island.

“I have the day off,” he amends and you nod, sitting halfway in his lap till he tugs you up properly.

“And you want me to spend it with you and Jack?” he nods, handing over the tea when you’re comfortable.

You don’t think hard about his hand falling to your waist to keep you still as he answers you.

“Mhm, Jack wants to go to a book fair.” he elaborates and you nod. “Are you free?”

“So free! But I have to be back in time to go to the farmer’s market.”

Aaron nods, lodging his chin on your shoulder as you sip the tea. He can do with a day of just you and Jack and nothing else.

#slmhuniverse #aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x black!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn

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defectivehero · 7 months

Text

Anonymous asked: can you perhaps do hero x reformed villain? thanks in advance :3

somehow I deleted this ask and it's gone from my inbox, wtf. anyway, make sure to read through the warnings before reading!

warnings: self-harm, blood, panic attack/hyperventilation.

The villain failed.

This isn't the first time they've failed—far from it.

But this is the first time they've failed... as a hero.

And they don't know what to do with themselves. The villain just knows they have to do something to quell the restless feeling prickling up their skin. Their ears ringing and buzzing, they hear themselves making a flimsy excuse to break away before practically running down the hallway and turning into the bathroom. The space is empty, hauntingly so. Everything about the room sends a prickle down their spine, from the spotless white tile to the perfectly clean mirrors. They have never been so strongly assaulted by a feeling of detachment.

The metal shard is burning a hole in their pocket. The villain pulls it out with trembling hands, eyes latching on the dried blood settled into the harsh cracks. The supervillain's voice echoes in their ears, reminding them of every mistake they've ever made. It's been years since the supervillain passed—since the villain was freed from the blackmail that bound them to villainy—yet they hear his voice everywhere they go.

There's blood dripping down their fingertips now, dropping to the floor and sending hollow echoes throughout the bathroom. The villain takes a shuddering breath in, welcoming the familiar rush of pain that rises to greet them. Their hands are shaking, their vision is tunneling, but they feel more alive than they have in days.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The villain nearly jumps out of their skin at the sudden presence of another person. They can't bear to look away from the crimson slowly sliding down their skin, coloring the spotless white sink with tinges of red. The villain doesn't need to look up to know just who is standing in the doorway: the hero, their former enemy, their new partner. The thought amuses them, for reasons they can't quite explain.

"Stop it." The hero orders, their voice cold. At their uncharacteristic tone, the villain does look up—only to find an expression of true shock, bewilderment, and helplessness on the hero's face. The expression quickly morph into stubborn resolve when their partner notices they're looking. The hero takes a step forward and the door slides shut behind them.

"Why?" The villain eventually remembers to ask.

"What do you mean why?" The hero asks, disbelief pervading their voice. "Because it's dangerous, because you're hurting yourself-"

"I deserve the pain," the villain interjects instinctually. They feel a wry smile crawling up their lips. "Crave it, even." That familiar voice is ringing in their ears still, urging them to inflict more pain and suffering to even the score.

"Stop," the hero repeats. "I'm serious. I don't know what you think this is, if you're trying to unnerve me or something... Please stop."

The villain feels hysterical laughter bubbling out of their throat, wrenching their lips open and infecting the tense air around them. They can feel the hero's incredulous gaze boring into their skin, but there isn't a damn thing they can do to change it.

In the blink of an eye, the shard of metal is roughly ripped from their hands. The villain doesn't realize that they're gasping for breath until the hero is shaking them by the shoulders, their eyes wide. And they're still laughing. The villain doesn't know where they first found the amusement. All they know is that they cannot stop, cannot let go of this twisted sense of joy that is so familiar and so novel at the same time.

"What happened to you?" The hero whispers.

"More like who," the villain thinks to themselves wryly. They don't realize they've spoken aloud until they see the way the hero's eyebrows furrow. They look truly unsettled, perhaps even disturbed; on a better day, this would please the villain greatly. Now that their role has changed, however... Now that they're a hero... the expression on their partner's face is less amusing.

The villain can practically see the moment the dots connect in the hero's mind—the moment the hero remembers the expression on the villain's face as they showed up bruised and battered on the agency's doorstep all those years ago, remembers the villain haunting the agency's halls like a shadow, waiting for the moment the supervillain would return and finish what he started.

The villain's bruises have faded. The scars have not.

The hero knows.

The hero places a hand on their shoulder, their grip tethering the villain to reality. It's a firm pressure—a reminder of their support. The villain desperately wants to shrug it off (they've trusted another like that once before, it didn't out well) but they don't. Something in the hero's eyes compels them to remain frozen, pliable under their grip.

"You've punished yourself enough." The hero states firmly. They leave no room for argument, and the villain is forced to believe them. Their eyes gleam with honesty—nothing more and nothing less. The villain feels robbed of breath. Their new partner brings a hand to their cheek, meets their eyes unflinchingly.

"I won't let anything like that happen to you ever again," the hero murmurs, their fingertips sliding across the villain's skin. The villain has forgotten the pain itching at their forearm, the blood slowly dribbling to the floor. All they can see is the expression on the hero's face—one so far past mere determination, one that reminds them of when they knew loyalty and compassion. "I promise."

In the quiet air, under the flickering fluorescent lights, the villain realizes that they believe their partner. A tight feeling at the back of their throat, the villain leans into the hero and the unconditional support that they don't deserve.

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eddies-artofsuffering · 2 years

Text

Part I: Sweet Tooth

(Part II)

Eddie stares down at his wristwatch. One minute to noon. Just one more minute.

“Want us to clear the path?” Argyle claps him on his shoulder and squeezes. “It’s almost time.”

“I don’t – I don’t know. Maybe you guys could stand behind the kitchen doors? You can see through the windows, right?” Eddie scrunches his nose.

He can feel it, he’s been conditioned to it by now, the familiar pit of anticipation. Other people may call it butterflies. Eddie thinks it’s more like pterodactyls breathing fire inside his stomach. He desperately needs someone to hold his fucking hand during this hardship.

But he also really, really doesn’t want anyone up close to witness him making a fool of himself in front of Hot Steve - a new regular customer at their cafe. An incredibly attractive guy who works at the bookstore next door.

Eddie can NOT fuck this up. It only happens once a day, for a maximum of three minutes.

“Maybe today’s the day you ask him out,” Jonathan smiles. Dude never smiles with his eyes. It’s kind of unsettling.

“Absolutely not, have you seen Hot Steve?” Eddie groans. “There’s no way he plays for my team. He’s –“

The doorbell chimes. Eddie’s head snaps towards the entrance, mouth falling open. Hot Steve is walking towards him, holy shit. It’s go time. Eddie shoos his coworkers away with a frantic wave, straightens his name tag, and rests his chin on his palm and bends over a little, elbow on the counter.

This is always the way he greets Hot Steve. It’s his signature move. Although, it hasn’t really worked yet. If it worked, Eddie would’ve won Hot Steve’s attention by now. But this is the best he got at the moment, damn it.

“Hi, Eds, how are you doing?” Hot Steve is wearing a baby-blue button-down today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His name tag pin on the left side of his chest glints.

Eddie loves that Steve came up with that nickname on his own, despite only having seen him here at Cafe Byers for, like, two weeks now.

“Better now that you’re here.” Eddie gives him a cheeky smile, If Argyle and Jonathan were here, they might’ve been impressed with how smooth it sounded; they always comment on the way he flirts, the things he says. If you ever said shit like that to me, I’d be hella blushing, brochacho. You know you got game, right?

What they don’t know is that these lines are rehearsed in his head, so many times. It’s all Eddie ever does: practice pickup lines for Hot Steve.

“Right out of the gate, huh? You're makin' me blush,” Hot Steve smiles, and honestly, it’s hard to tell if he’s blushing at all. Or if he’s even flustered. Hot Steve's always so confident. “I’ll get a latte. With oat milk, please?”

“Oh?” Oat milk? That’s new. Steve didn’t care last time what milk he was getting. Interesting. Or is it? Eddie decides to file that information away for later. “Yea, coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

Another thing about Hot Steve that really does something to Eddie’s overworked pterodactyls, is that he never has a phone with him. Or on him. If it is, it's never visible.

Which is odd, because the entire café is littered with folks who cannot tear their eyes away from their little gadgets and devices, especially their phones; most people can’t even wait for their drinks without looking at them, checking something constantly, emails or texts or whatever.

And, well, Hot Steve never does any of that. He always waits at the end of the counter, patiently watching Eddie making drinks. It always makes him feel so self-conscious. Eddie’s burnt his hands under hot steam a couple of times, actually.

But these two, maybe three minutes of Eddie making a fresh beverage for Hot Steve – this is the only time he gets to make small talk with him. Each time, he learns something new about him, or confirms something that Eddie’s already inferred. The grand question of the day is: “So, who’s the drink for?”

Hot Steve blinks rapidly, as if coming out of a daze. “Uh – what?”

“Whose drink is this?” Eddie says, tamping the coffee grounds. “I’m assuming it’s not yours.”

“How… did you know it’s not mine?” he narrows his eyes.

God. It’s really telling, isn’t it, that Eddie’s noticed these things? “First time for you to ask for oat milk, so. I don’t know, I figured,” he shrugs.

Hot Steve opens his mouth as if to say something. Then he doesn’t. In the corner of Eddie’s eyes, he sees him nodding with pursed lips, with a hint of a smirk. It’s so distracting that Eddie almost heats up regular milk despite this whole conversation being around someone’s (not Steve’s, apparently) preference for plant-based milk. Oops.

He finishes making the latte and walks over to the cash register, handing over the drink. Steve receives it with a small thanks.

But Eddie knows Steve's not quite done here today. Because, when you have a tiny (massive) crush on a near-stranger, you just, kind of look for patterns. That’s just how human minds work; Eddie has been carefully collecting all the little information about Hot Steve, just based on the few minutes that he spends at the café at noon.

Which is how that Eddie’s almost certain (almost, because there’s always room for anomalies) what Hot Steve’s about to do when he asks, “Is that it for today?”

“Oh – um,” Hot Steve scans the glass case of assorted desserts and baked goods, subconsciously wetting his lips. “Actually, yea. Can I have the blueberry crumble, please?”

This is one of the very few predictable things about him. Eddie doesn’t know why Hot Steve even looks at the shelves of sweets each time as if he’s ever going to make a different choice, because it’s always the same, the only constant pattern besides his entrance that he’s ever shown Eddie: the house blueberry crumble, the ones that Eddie bakes himself.

And every time Hot Steve asks for it, Eddie has to turn around and flex his arms, letting out a silent scream of victory, because Hot Steve is fucking hooked on those things. It’s truly incredible to know that he wants it. Eddie pours his heart and soul into those.

“Of course, babe,” he swoops down, takes a small square piece out with tongs, wraps it in a pocket of parchment paper. “D’you know I bake these every morning?”

“You – it’s you?” Hot Steve’s eyes widen comically. “Wow. I thought they were, like, shipped over from a bakery or something.”

“We do have an oven,” Eddie points behind the kitchen with his thumb and looks back, makes a mistake of drawing attention to the door, only remembering then that Argyle and Jonathan are probably watching this whole thing. Really hoping that they’re being discreet.

“That’s amazing. I – I love them,” he says, not at all looking behind, thank God. “Guess you’re good with your hands.”

Eddie could practically hear the angelic chorus from the sky. Holy shit. Hot Steve loves his crumbles. Fuck. He could cry.

But, you know. Everything always comes to an end, and that’s usually how far their conversation goes. Nothing more than just small talk, and then Hot Steve would pay for the stuff, go back to the next-door bookstore where he works. And until the next day, it’s as if he doesn’t even exist. A mythical creature that only appears during those three minutes in time and space, then vanishes afterwards.

So he tries, just one last time before he leaves. “Steve?”

“Yea?” Hot Steve looks up, batting his lashes. They’re – so – pretty. So long, delicate. Such a fucking contrast to his muscular arms and chest that his thin blue shirt does nothing to hide, sleeves and buttons ready to pop. It’s sinful.

Fuck, and time’s ticking, yet there are so many things Eddie wants to ask. What is your drink, then? ‘Cause you never get the same drink twice.

Why is it always at noon? Is that your break?

Where are you from? When does your shift end? You do work at the bookstore, right?

When are you free?

All of these are more or less reasonable, if not a tiny bit creepy questions. But any of these would’ve been so much better than what Eddie actually blurts out, so out of the left field that he surprises even himself: “So, uh, how much do you bench?”

Oh, fuck. Where the hell did that come from? Eddie cringes hard inside, unsure how those words, that kind of vernacular even came out of his mouth, please, he wants to rewind time -

But it's spilled oat milk. Guh. He crinkles his nose to prepare himself to apologize. Sorry. That was so – I’m not a gym bro. I’m not! Look at me! He's about to say, but:

“You wanna know?”

Hot Steve has a shit-eating grin on. That’s a first. There might even be a faint blush on his cheeks. Holy shit. Hot Steve took the fucking bait. Not that it was bait – it was just Eddie being a fucking disaster – but he nods all the same, stupidly. Of course he wants to know. He’s committed, now.

“Let’s see.” Hot Steve’s now circling around the counter to take a closer look at Eddie, eyes travelling up and down. It feels like Hot Steve is undressing him with his eyes. It’s kind of insane that they’re doing this in public.

Hmm. 140, 145 at the most – Hot Steve mutters under his breath. “Oh yea. Easy,” he says, still smiling wickedly.

“What do you mean, easy?” Eddie croaks.

His breath hitches when Hot Steve leans over the counter, inches away from Eddie’s face. “Probably could do twenty reps of you,” he whispers, winking.

Eddie’s brain short-circuits. He stares open-mouthed at Hot Steve, unable to move until he exits the café with the drink and a brown bag, fading away from view. Gone for the rest of the day, rest of the evening. Rest of the next morning. Only to return the next day at noon, like a fucking reverse-Cinderella.

“Why were you guys whispering?” Jonathan appears from behind, nudging him on the arm. “What did he say? Did you finally ask him out?”

“I’m about to ask him out myself if you don’t,” Argyle says lazily, earning a sharp smack from Jonathan. “Just joking, man, you know you’re my main dude,” he squeezes a squirming Jonathan on the side.

“He… “ Eddie gulps, closing his eyes, and pictures Hot Steve’s tantalizing smile. “He winked.”

Continue reading on Ao3

Read the sequel: Savour

#steddie #steddie fic #Steve x eddie #eddie x steve #Steve harrington #eddie munson #argyle stranger things #jonathan byers #jargyle #jargyle supremacy #steddie:sweet tooth #ao3 #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ronance #stranger things #stranger things fic #modern au #coffeeshop au

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dadsbongos · 10 months

Text

perfect blue - s.gojo

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection ... warnings - post-star plasma vessel arc (+minor spoilers), sad gojo :( word count - 1.1 K / rating - PG

Satoru lets the water roll down his back. The warmth grounds him. It lets him forget how chilly the nighttime air will be as soon as he shuts off the pipe. Lets him really close his eyes and take his time absorbing each sensation. As the soap bubbles and pins of white hair flatten to his forehead, he treasures every second that his infinity can be lowered, and nobody can say anything about it.

He’s almost tempted to reach out and skim his fingers against the shiny tiles directly in front of him. Just to see if they’re cold. Would they make him shiver and yank his hand back? Or would they be heated and steamed? He wants to feel them. He doesn’t reach out.

Instead, he shuts the water off; the steel knob is neither heated nor cold under his palm. It simply exists. A shape forming around his fingers that he cannot sense for himself. His clothes aren’t soft, nor are they itchy, when he pulls them on. And he cannot feel the gentle breeze prattling over campus as he shuffles back to his and Suguru’s wing of the dorms.

On the way, he passes the girls’ wing. Shared by you and Shoko. And sometimes him, and sometimes Suguru. On the creaky wooden steps is a figure in black. A shadow cast across the hunched form, drenching it in darkness. A bump rises from the pathetic lump, white sclera with frail red veins at the edges poking through the ink. Hands block the face. He knows exactly who it is.

“Thought you went to bed,” his hands are firm in his pockets, eyes hidden behind a velvet sleep mask.

Your hands tense from where they’re coddling your frosty skin, lowering slowly to clench around your bent knees with your chest leaning fully against the meat of your thighs. Your shoulders scrunch up towards your ears. He steps a little closer, observing through heightened sight how your nose crinkles as you think through every potential reply. Your lips form into a pitiful pout. Your eyes don’t rise to meet his porcelain face. You know there’s no point. He still wants you to try.

Satoru comes down beside you; the space between you both is thin. He’d make it even thinner if you asked. He wonders if you would even notice.

You breathe in, chest rising slowly. Your lips part, then close, then split again before you finally croak,

“I don’t think…”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I was meant to be a sorcerer.”

“Yeah.”

The way you let ghosts haunt you was particularly bad. He’d watched you pray for curses before; even downright mourning the mean-spirited things you’ve had to exorcize. He stopped asking back when you were first-years.

Something something they didn’t ask to be made something they’re wild animals something something.

He’s known since then that you would drop out.

“Can you help me tell Yaga?”

“Yeah.”

But that doesn’t mean he takes any pleasure in being right.

Not this time.

“Yaga will listen to you,” you murmur.

Because he’s the strongest. Normally, Satoru likes that: knowing he can’t be beaten anymore. Knowing he can harbor everyone that matters while protecting those that don’t. The only thing he could call a flaw is how differently his friends look at him. Not even Yaga scolds him the same. Infinity has made him something more powerful than they know what to do with.

He isn’t Satoru. He’s the strongest.

No longer a boy. Not humble enough to be a man.

“You’ll freeze out here, you know,” Satoru pulls the ends of his sleeves over his hands because Suguru once told him the way he didn’t react to the weather was unsettling.

“Whatever,” you dangle your head until it bumps against your knees, reaching over to swat your friend’s arm.

He laughs at you, standing up and bending his neck to give the illusion of two eyes meeting yours. You look up and feed into it before standing on your own, soon after leaning into Satoru’s chest with a groan. He knows, logically, that vibrations are sent through his oversized sleep shirt. He can’t feel them for himself, but he’s sure they ripple through the cloth. He can see the way the fabric craters around your heavy breath.

Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders like he’s seen Suguru do. He rubs his hand over the plain of your back and rests his cheek against your head.

“Will you keep in touch?” you mutter against him.

“You know my number,” your body isn’t warm against him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was leaning against a vending machine. He’s so tall he can lean against the dusty top and watch the tops of his friends’ heads float around below. He’s so tall he could pick them all up - pack them in his pockets - take them anywhere he wants.

But he keeps growing.

His eyes are open. Your head is a ball against his chest. A ball he could take in his palm and keep for himself. He could swallow it down like Suguru with his curses. Hot in his belly. Packed away.

One day, he may be too tall to reach you all.

“Yeah, yeah,” your arms tense like you’re squeezing, not that he feels it, “Just making sure you don’t forget about me…”

Suguru has lost weight and won't tell Satoru why.

Shoko's smoking has gotten even worse, and she refuses to acknowledge it.

“I’d never.”

You and Suguru and Shoko are sitting around the vending machines on your own now. Satoru’s so high up his feet don’t touch the ground. He can’t feel your arms around his waist.

“Hmph,” slowly, you pull away. He wonders if you feel warmth from his body. If there’s an illusion of his soft skin and beating heart. If you still find something human beneath his hidden eyes, “I guess I should get to bed,” you look back at the old, crackling steps, “You’re busy tomorrow, right?”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” he wishes that was the assumption you made instead.

The ghost of Riko still clings to the gates he wanders under for every mission.

But the ghosts of his friends - far, far under his feet that don’t touch the ground - are worse. How he can almost imagine feeling the impacts of you and Suguru and Shoko’s writhing arms. How he could palm yours and Shoko’s heads like little balls, roll the both of you up and swallow you down and take you anywhere he wanted. Maybe except the beaches of Okinawa.

He wishes he could ball Suguru up, too. But Suguru’s different now. Like Satoru is.

Suguru has bags under his eyes and won't tell Satoru why.

Satoru tilts his head up as you climb the short steps back to your dorm, pretending to watch through the material of his sleep mask - the softness of which, he cannot feel against his face.

in honor of fuckhead’s birthday he’ll get posted first 🙂 for a character he hates, gege really made gojo the most interesting lmao

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk movie marathon event

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outsideratheart · 2 years

Text

Everything I wanted (Leila Ouahabi x Leon!reader)

A/N: Sequel to Cliche . Warning, it’s another long one. I hope you like it!

The two of you knew what you wanted and you wasn’t going to let anyone stand in the way of that but you knew as soon as you left that room things would get a little bit more complicated. Your team mates would have questions and then there was Mapi. You had the relationship you had waited years for but had it cost you your other relationship you’ve had since birth.

By now you knew most of your friends would be in your room, waiting for you to return but did they expect you to return with Leila. From the other side of the door the two of you could hear them planning your search & rescue.

“What about Mapi?” Leila asks just as you get the room key from your pocket.

“You’ll be fine. It’s me she has a problem with so I’ll deal with her” you explained.

“But that was before I was your girlfriend”

Your eyes widen at the title. It wasn’t that you hated it, you just hadn’t spoken about the two of you having an official relationship.

“Girlfriend?” the uncertainty in your voice was unsettling to say the least.

“Is that not what we are? I thought I made it clear what I wanted”

“I want you Leila”

“But you don’t want to be my girlfriend”

“I do” you lean forward and kiss her gently. There was no need for passion, the act itself was intimate enough.

The way you felt as you swiped the key card is foreign but when you open the door you see the reason why. Everybody’s eyes were on you and although you never talked about how you would tell the team about the development in your relationship you make the change crystal clear when you take Leila’s hand in yours.

“Where have you been?” Lola asks.

“My secret hiding place” you joked but nobody laughed. Maybe you should have told somebody you were still in the building.

When you meet Mapi’s eyes the tension in the room rises and it made everybody feel a little bit awkward. In their eyes your argument had reached its head but you both had so much you wanted to say to each other.

The situation between you and her brought out every emotion in Mapi and it was overwhelming. To you, it doesn’t come as a surprise when she walks past you and towards the door.

“Mapi” she turns to face you “’l’ll come speak to you soon ok?”

“I’ll be in my room”

Your friends stay in your room for a little bit when Lola decides to watch a movie. Just like you had in your apartment, Leila settles into your side. You were waiting for the teasing but it never came because your friends knew that although you watched the film with a smile, the way you felt on the inside would be the opposite and there were right. You wished you never said anything to Mapi because now you had to follow up on your word and you had no idea what you were going to say to her.

When Leila feels you shift to get up she takes her focus off the film. She knows where you’re going and she cannot help but feel bad for the part she played in the arguments you have had with your sister.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she stands up with you.

“No, I need to do this alone” you place a kiss to her temple.

Looks are exchanged between your team mates. They had never seen you so domestic but with Leila it looked like it came so naturally.

As you stood outside Mapi’s door you contemplated walking away and saving the conversation for another day but by now it was already long overdue. Throughout your entire life things had never gotten this bad between the two of you so you had no game plan, no way to know what is the right thing or wrong thing to say.

Mapi opened the door before you knock, almost like she sensed your presence from the other side of the threshold.

“I hate this” she admitted.

It brought you momentary peace knowing that you agreed on at least one thing.

“Are you dating?” The question was simple and you knew the answer but for some reason you hesitated. It was as if you didn’t want to speak in fear of saying the wrong thing so instead you nod your head.

A few days ago Mapi had planned on apologising to you but now she felt you were way past apologies. If only she knew the power the word sorry had and how badly you wanted, no needed, to hear it.

“You’ve never done this before” her words confuse you. Mapi knew that you had never been in a relationship so why was she bringing it up.

“I haven’t but I want to try with her. I really like her Mapi”

“No” Mapi shook her head and once again you feel the negative energy flood the room “you like having sex with Leila and you feel like the only to carry on doing that is to get into a relationship with her”

“That’s not true” you found it hard believing the words you were saying. Earlier on you had no doubt that this is what you wanted but your sister knew you better than you knew yourself so did she know this too.

“It is. Maybe you do want a relationship but you are using Leila as an experiment and I won’t allow it. Do you not see how much this is hurting me, to choose between my sister and my best friend.”

The rage that grows within you is incontrollable. How, after everything that has happened, did Mapi still think she had the right to dictate your love life.

“I did nothing wrong” this you were sure of “Maria I’m not here for you forgiveness and I sure as shit am not here for your permission”

Your voice remains at a reasonable level but inside you are screaming. You are determined not to let your emotions or your sister get the better of you so you leave without saying another word. As you walk down the corridor doubt begins creeping in. Mapi had planted seeds of doubt and it has you questioning whether you were doing the right thing or if you were being selfish.

The pace in which you walked back to you room gave you time to think about your relationship. It was barely 4 hours old and already you were questioning whether or not you made the right decision.

When you enter your room you expect to find Lola but instead you find Leila buried under the duvet scrolling on her phone. You had missed spending the night with her but you know you needed space from her whilst you made sense of the thoughts in your head. You mumble something about getting a quick shower all whilst avoiding eye contact with her but despite your greatest efforts, Leila learned how to see through whatever mask you choose to wear.

As the close to boiling water cleansed your skin you felt your shoulders relaxing and it brought you a brief moment of peace. You cleared your mind of all thoughts and it allowed you to go numb, it was a feeling that you knew would vanish the moment you re entered your bedroom.

"How did it go?" Leila pulls back the corner of the duvet letting you know she wanted you to join her in bed.

With Leila in your arms things felt right which made things that much harder. Why did you have to fall for her?

"I don't know if there's any coming back from this" your heart broke as you admitted the outcome of your conversation.

Again, doubt plagued your mind. Whilst you knew that Leila was special you didn't want to spend your relationship resenting her for the destruction of your bond with Mapi. The fear you felt was real because you knew what you wanted to do and the woman in your arms wouldn't like it and you would be proving your sister right. That been said you saw it as the only option, it was the right thing to do in order to fix your family.

"I love you Y/N but for the next couple minutes I want to pretend that I don't. Speak to me like you would have 6 months ago"

"I have to make a decision between two very important people in my life and no matter which I choose, I will lose. I have you" Leila playfully nudges your side "I mean this girl, she is amazing and has awoken this side of me than I never knew existed. I think I have a real shot of happiness with her"

You could write a list pages long, full of reasons why you wanted to be with Leila and each one gave you the urge to fight for and protect your relationship.

"Then there's Mapi who has been my best friend since the day we were born. She is my sister who, for some reason, sees me as this bad guy that has tainted her friend. In her mind I have already hurt you which if you ask me will happen because I am bound to mess this up at some point but a little faith wouldn't hurt. I am trying to be a good person but it's hard to do that when the person who knows you most in this the world makes you think it's impossible. I'm not asking her to trust me on this but she could at least give me a chance to prove that I am worth your love"

Leila didn't know what to say. Since the day she met the Leon's it was clear that the bond you had was unbreakable yet now it was broken, smashed into pieces, and she didn't know what to do to fix things. It is clear you are torn between her and Mapi but what was she suppose to say, leave me and chose her, no that wasn't going to happen.

"Y/N" Leila looks up but you don't move. It is only when she cups your face and forces you to look at her does she the pain that floods your eyes "you are saying you want her to see you as a good person but you don't believe that yourself but you know what, that's ok because I know it"

It's as if she knows her words aren't enough to persuade so you does the thing that will, she shows you just how much faith she has in you.

"It has been quite the day and I think we've done enough talking" Leila knew a guaranteed way to ease your mind and you wasn't going to stop her, in fact you had been craving her touch since the moment she walked in Los Rojas.

The weeks that followed were exciting and everyday you felt like you did something new. Everybody knew you and Leila were dating so there was no more hiding, you could hold her hand as you walked the streets of Barcelona and take her out on a date which has become one of your favourite things.

Mapi still wasn't talking to you which hurt but there wasn't anything you could do about it. She had made her mind up and you knew better than to fight her on it, the Leon's were known for their stubbornness. Everybody saw the divide between you yet for some reason it didn't affect the team. From what they saw, Mapi was speaking to Leila and Leila was speaking to you so the tension wasn't thick unless you two were in a room together which didn't happen unless it was necessary.

Your mood was great when you were with Leila or your friends but they saw the way you were when you thought nobody was looking. Your look would linger on your sister hoping and praying that she will give you a sign which means you will be ok but it never comes.

Leila tries her hardest to be there for you but the hole left by your sister was too big to fill and with every day that passes she saw the light in your eyes dimmer.

Your birthday got brought up at training and given that you were twins, Mapi's got brought up too. Every year you spent it together no matter what is going on or where you are in the world but Mapi made it clear this year would be different.

"Me and Ingrid are going to Mallorca for a couple of days"

She said it so nonchalantly you wondered if she realised her words felt like knives getting plunged into your heart.

"But we spend every birthday together Maria" It was the first time you had spoken properly since the national time camp.

"I'm going to spend it with my girlfriend. You should do the same, that's if you are still serious about her" Even months later she still questioned your relationship and the level of commitment you were giving Leila.

"Technically I have spent every birthday with Leila for the last 7 years only this she year won't be there as my friend"

"Well I won't be there. Like I said, I have plans" Mapi's voice held no emotion and whilst you think it's because she doesn't care, the truth is it's because once she lets herself feel one emotion then she will feel them all and she isn't ready for that.

"Ok. I hope you have a nice birthday" it was difficult to walk away from her but that's all you seemed to be doing recently.

Alexia follows you out to the training pitch whereas the rest of the girls stay in the canteen. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"Do you know what you're doing to her? What you not talking to her is doing? She thinks I don't notice but she isn't sleeping, she hasn't slept through the night since I don't know when. You are her best friend, you broke her heart and no matter how hard I try, only you can put it back together again"

"She slept with you, my best friend and now you're dating even though she doesn't know how to do relationships"

"What if I break up with her?" Leila stands so that she is looking down at your sister.

This catches not just Mapi but the whole room off guard. If one thing has been made clear over the past few weeks its that both of you truly care about each other yet here Leila stands ready to sacrifice her relationship so that you can get the one with your sister back.

"Leila" Patri pulls her arm.

"No. You don't see it or maybe you do but your sister is broken. I like to think I make her happy, no, I know I make her happy. She likes me, loves me, wants me but she needs you so if the only way to make her whole is to let her go then i'll do it"

Leila leaves the room speechless by the extremes she was willing to go to in order to fix Mapi and your's relationship.

You on the other had shot ball after ball into the back of the net. You had no strategy in mind other than to get rid of yourself of the pain Mapi had caused yet again.

"You're losing your power" Alexia teased in attempt to lighten the mood.

"You wasn't saying then when I put three past Atletico at the weekend"

Alexia kicks the ball away from you feet, it was her way of saying extra training is over and you didn't argue with her.

"I did nothing wrong Ale but i'm still getting punished" You sit down. The training session, gym workout and the extra shooting practice is enough to make your legs feel like lead.

Alexia felt your pain. She's would consider herself one of your best friends but she refrained from taking sides on this due to the role she played with in the team but if you were to ask her she would say she's on your side.

"Are you happy with Leila?" Alexia asks even though your actions have already given her the answer.

"I love her Alexia. At first I wasn't sure but i've found it, the thing that everyone talks about and it's her. I have tried to talk myself out of being with her so many times—“

"Don't do that"

"I'm not. I spoke with Leila about how i'm feeling and she told me to trust her decision to be with me so that's what I'm doing"

It was weird hearing you say you've talked about your feelings when for years you kept them bottled up. Alexia was proud and she wished Mapi took the time to see this side of you, the one that is the complete opposite of who you were a year ago.

"I told Leila that I didn't know if there was any coming back from this. Now I know there isn't and I think it's time I move on. Who knows, maybe in a few months or a year she will be ready for us to be sisters again"

"And Leila is worth it?"

"She is. Speaking of Leila I really should go, I’m cooking tonight"

You spent two hours slaving over the stove making the perfect pasta with spicy tomato sauce. It may not have been much but you enjoyed it and you knew Leila did too. It also gave you chance to think, maybe spending your birthday apart from your sister wasn't the worse thing in the world. In fact you planned on doing something similar to her but instead of Mallorca you had your sights set on Ibiza.

When you hear a knock at the door you have an extra pep in your step as you go to answer it. You are so caught up in the night that was only just beginning and the possibility of spending a few days just you and Leila that you don't see the look of devastation on her face. Leila tried to find the right moment to bring it up but it never came. You wouldn't stop talking over dinner and it seemed cruel to do it when you held her tightly in your arms. You had provided her a safe space and she was about to wreck it with a bulldozer.

"I can't wait. You, me, sun, sea, sand and se—“

"I think we should break up"

"What, no, why would we do that?"

Leila lifts her weight off of you and puts as much space between you and her as possible. Tears fall down her face but she makes no effort to wipe them away, she knows it will a waste of time as other will fall in their place.

"I told you I would hurt you" you are adamant that it is your fault, why wouldn't it be, Leila was perfect.

It killed Leila to know you blamed yourself for this when you did nothing wrong. You treated her like a princess, loved her like she was the only woman in the world and made her happier than ever before.

"It's for the best" Leila couldn't tell you the real reason why because then it will ruin any chance of reconciliation you and Mapi have.

"No it's not. I love you Leila and I know that I may not have been the best girlfriend but I am trying my best here just give me a chance, please" you beg for a second chance.

In her eyes Leila was doing the right thing but seeing you so open and vulnerable, it makes her want to take everything back, tell you she made mistake and hold you until both you and her stop crying.

"I wish I could be with you"

"You can be with me Leila"

"I can't bec—“

"Because what!" you didn't mean to raise your voice but you had started to panic. You didn't want to lose Leila and you would do anything to save your relationship.

"Because you need her"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

“Who?”

“Mapi”

“I don't understand what I did wrong. If she chose you and you're choosing her, who chooses me?"

"I'm sorry Y/N" Leila kisses your cheek before walking towards your door.

"Don't leave me"

If Leila were to turn around she would see a shell of a woman that greeted her a few hours ago. You wondered if she realised she was making your nightmare, the one that kept you for up for night after night, a reality.

The next day at training something was wrong and the whole team could tell. Leila kept her distance from you and you barely talked the entire session. You didn't stick around afterwards as the team got a coffee and you declined an invite to go out for tea later in the evening. The following morning the team has been called in to go over some game film. You arrived late and the redness of your eyes were unmistakeable, you had been crying. Mapi grew concerned rather quickly and it didn't take long to figure out the cause of your pain.

“You need to talk to her. Something is wrong” Mapi whispers to Alexia.

It fuelled the captain with annoyance. Mapi was being so stubborn and it caused her to distance herself from you even though she obviously still scared.

“You know what is wrong. I hate to say it but this is your fault. She turned up at my apartment two nights ago in tears because Leila broke up with her”

Mapi truly thought Leila was being dramatic and that she was trying to prove a point. Never did she think the defender would go through with it.

“What am I suppose to do?” Mapi asks.

“I don’t know Mapi. I think you need to apologise and hope that she is in a forgiving mood”

Your sister knew that she had messed up but in her eyes she was doing to the right thing. She had never seen you in a relationship before and she hated that the first person you took that step with is a team mate and her best friend.

The game footage played in the background but your focus was elsewhere. You couldn’t believe Leila had called things off for the sake of your sister and you knew you had every right to be mad at her but you wasn’t, you just wanted your girl back.

When Leila did look at you it only lasted a few seconds, she mouthed I’m sorry then turned her to attention to anything or anyone that wasn’t you. When the first session is over you are the first one to leave. You hated been able to see her, even touch her if you wanted to, yet you couldn’t and it was torture. You take a few seconds to yourself in the hallway as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Whats wrong?” You stoped pacing for only a second when you heard your sister’s voice.

“Nothing. Go away”

You knew that out of everyone Mapi was the one person you couldn’t hide from. It didn’t matter if you were talking or not. In that moment you just wanted a hug from your sister and for her to tell you everything will be ok. If you stopped for a moment to let yourself feel then you wouldn’t be able to control your emotions and the training ground wasn’t the right place for another breakdown.

“You pace back and forth when you’re thinking and circles when something is wrong. So talk to me?” Mapi stood in front of you, forcing you to stop and look at her although part of her regrets it. As she looks into your eyes she see’s the pain and suffering. It causes guilt to grow in her gut because she knows that even though she didn’t ask for Leila to break up with you, she was the reason it happened.

“Now you want to talk after you’ve ruined everything. You once told me that you can’t wait for me to experience what you have with Ingrid. Well guess what maps, I found it and then it got taken away because instead of being happy for me you were hellbent on making me miserable. So no I won’t talk to you. You ruined the best thing to happen to me”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen”

“What did you expect? You made Leila feel like she was to blame for us not talking when that’s all on you. I tried to be a good person, to be the person Leila deserves and for what? I lost her Mapi”

Your sister saw, for the first time, just how wrong she had been. You didn’t see Leila as a temporary fix or a trial run at what you thought was happiness. You truly cared for her and there Mapi stands, the reason for your heartbreak.

“Y/N”

“I can’t do this with you Mapi. I miss you so much but I need space”

“Ok. I’ll go back in and tell them you need ten minutes?”

It was the first time in long while where you felt your sister on your side.

“5” you correct her.

For the next few days you remained comfortably numb. It was a worrying sight for those around you as it wasn’t just your sadness you hid, you refused to show any emotion whatsoever. Alexia suggested that you take a few days to get your head straight but you refused and given your performance in training, Jona didn’t back the captain on her suggestion. With the El Classico only a few days away he needed you on the pitch and even though he was worried about you, he hoped you carry over whatever you are feeling into the game because he knows there’s nothing worse than when you’re pissed off, it made you untouchable.

So when game day came you stayed to yourself. You put your headphones on when you left the hotel and they didn’t come off until the warms up. It was a different mood to what you normally felt but it was a welcomed feeling.

“Y/N” you feel someone remove your headphones and you expect to see Alexia standing in front of you.

“Leila” you couldn’t control the smile on your face. She hadn’t uttered a word to you since that night in your apartment.

“Don’t do anything stupid out there”

You stood up so you are at her level. You glance down at her lips, it was an automatic reflex whenever you were this close to her.

“When have I ever done something stupid?”

“I can name a few but now that I think about it most of them include me” Jenni shouts from across the locker room. You laugh slightly but stop when you realise most of the team are watching you and Leila. It made you feel awkward but given the past couple of days you couldn’t really blame them.

“Y/N. I mean it, no hulking out on the pitch”

“No code green, got it”

Mapi watched the interaction in awe. You had been miserable for days yet a 30 second conversation with Leila had you smiling and joking. It made her think if her pride had stopped her from seeing this all long.

“You see it now don’t you?” Alexia question made it sound like everyone knew that the connection you and Leila shared was real, well everyone but Mapi. She simple nods in response.

“It took you long enough” Alexia pats her on the back when she finished getting ready.

Within the first 15 minutes of the game it was like Real Madrid had one mission and it was to rile you up. Every time you had the ball they fouled you and when you played it to Jenni they did the same to her. It caused your already short fuse to trip and you knew it was only a matter of time before you retaliate. Much to your surprise you last almost the entire first half before getting your payback. You foul Sofia Svava which results in you getting a yellow card. Misa who was the closest to you comes to argue with the ref but it’s pointless you got your card, no way was it a red, but that didn’t stop her from trying to get a rise out of you.

It seems like both teams have been told to be on their best behaviour when the second half starts or at least much friendlier. No cards are given out for 30 minutes but it’s as if everyone was waiting for what was to happen next. Caro makes a run down the right hand side and sends a ball into the box. It goes over yours and Jenni’s head which you thought was strange but you turn around just in time to see Caro’s target get taken down to the floor after Misa makes a high clearance which should never have happen.

Leila laid on the on the grass holding her head. You were blinded by rage and you only had you eyes on one person. Misa could have serious hurt Leila, she still might have and you needed the goalkeeper to know that she wasn’t go to get away with it. You barge your way through the white shirts, pushing and shoving them aside like they were nothing. Misa knows she has done wrong because she starts taking steps back but it doesn’t stop you. You shove her one, twice, three times and your hand gets higher with every push, the fourth one sends her to the floor. Her mistake is that she gets up because if gives the chance to do it all over again.

“Mapi! Get Y/N!” Alexia shouts from Leila’s side.

Mapi comes running over but she isn’t strong enough to hold you back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you unstoppable but Mapi doesn’t give up. Just before she is sent to the floor Misa pushes you back. It gave your team mates the chance to stop you but Misa doesn’t realise what she had done until it’s too late.

“You don’t touch her ever again” Mapi shoves Misa back and with one shove she is on the floor. Mapi’s protectiveness is finally used in the right way, to protect you.

You know that going after Misa is no longer an option so you go to Leila’s side but you can tell she is out of it. The sight fills you with a sense of fear you have never felt before, there was nothing to do to help her so you stood beside her hoping that your presence helps in whichever way it could.

“Y/L/Ns” the referee shouts you and Mapi over and you know what is coming.

She hold a yellow card out to Mapi, then points it at you followed a red. In your eyes it was worth it, nobody touches the woman you love and gets away with it. You accept the cards then go back to Leila but once again the referee shouts of your and says that you have to leave the pitch. That wasn’t going to happen. The medics are still looking at Leila and you didn’t plan on leaving her side until you knew she was ok. In the end Irene and Sandra escort you off the pitch much to your annoyance.

Once in the locker room you truly let out your frustrations. If you can grab it then it is thrown against the wall, boots, bottles, shirts, nothing was safe. You punch the wall in blind range and instantly regret it but the release of anger was needed. You were angry at Misa, the Madrid player and the referee but most of all you were worried. You sink into your locker clutching your chest when your breathing becomes staggered. It wasn’t an unknown feeling, not recently, but it’s a lot more intense than the other times it’s happen. Your hands start shaking and tears start flowing.

“Y/N look at me” your sisters voice bring you very little comfort but it does help.

“I can’t breathe. Leila”

“They’re taking her to the hospital” Mapi meant to reassure you but it only made things worse “take a deep breathe and let me look at your hand. Jesus, I thought you were out of your punching walls phase”

“I couldn’t help it. They hurt her Mapi, they hurt Leila and I couldn’t do anything to help her” as ridiculous as it sounds, Mapi has never heard you so concerned for anyone.

“You really do love her” it took Leila been injured and you almost taking on the entire Real Madrid team for her to see what you had been trying to tell her all this time.

“I do”

“Then let’s go see your girl”

“They won’t let me see her. We aren’t family, she isn’t even my girlfriend anymore”

“Leave that to me” you and mapi are less than a meter away from the door when she stops you “we need to sort your hand out”

“We are going to a hospital. They will do a much better job than us two” you remind your sister.

“that’s a good point”

The hospital was like a maze and between you and Mapi, it was like the blind leading the blind. You had no idea where Leila was, the main reception was no help as they couldn't legally tell you anything. You looked at the department board and narrowed down a few options where she could be. After the first two departments refused to give you any information you realised the best plan was to act like you knew where she was. You roamed the halls of the hospital on the verge of giving up that is until Mapi took things into her own hands.

"Hola!" Mapi had her charming voice on and you dreaded what was was to come next "We're looking for Ouahabi, Leila Ouahabi"

"She isn't James Bond" you roll your eyes at Mapi's dramatics.

Mapi waves you away as she turns her attention back to the nurse.

"You can help us, can't you?" Mapi asks only for the nurse to say unless you are family then there's nothing she can do.

"Listen to me. This here is my sister Y/N" you wave awkwardly "she is madly in love with the girl we are trying to find. They were dating but Leila broke up Y/N because she thought it would help me forgive this one but truth is I was scared that she wouldn't forgive me because I have been a terrible big sister and it cost my little sister the best thing to ever happen to her"

"7 minutes, just saying" you practically say to yourself.

"I'm sure your sister does love her but I cannot tell you anything, it's the law" the nurse apologies more to you then Mapi.

"What if they are married? What if I were to tell you that she is Leila Ouahabi's wife then will you tell us where she is"

"But you just told me they broke up"

You pull Mapi away making sure to thank the nurse for her troubles.

"Leave it mapi, we'll go back to the hotel and wait to hear from her"

"No!" Mapi marches over to the nurse's station but you don't have the energy to go after her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Patri all but runs to where you are. Clearly Mapi's raised voice worked, just not in the way she planned "Why aren't you answering your phone"

You had never been so happy to see your team mate. She ushered you both towards a room at the end of the corridor. Leila laid on the bed as she answered the doctor’s questions the best she could. Mapi enters first but you stay in the doorway and watch her for a few seconds. You definitely weren't seeing each other anymore but were you still friends? Did the small interaction in the locker mean you could enter her room?

Your sister talks to the team medics who leave and then pulls patri out of the room too.

"What are you doing?" you pull her arm back "She's your best friend, you can stay too"

"She is but she's your girlfriend or at least she should be" Mapi pats you on the shoulder as she walks past you.

You look back and forth between Leila and Mapi until the latter is no longer in the room. Then all your focus is on your ex. You could just make out the lump that is forming on her head but what you didn't expect to see was a small cut. You couldn't believe you didn't see it before.

"You were bleeding? How did I not notice?" Your head tilts slightly as you inspect her further.

"From what i've been told you were busy" Leila chuckles slightly but it didn't change your expression, which had worry written all over it.

"Misa deserved worse" you growled.

You knew violence was never the answer and that a punishment was sure to come but you didn't care, not when it came to Leila.

"You punched someone" she points towards your hand.

"Yes. Well no, it was a wall" you hid you hand so Leila couldn't see it.

"You shouldn't have gone after her Y/N. You could have got in trouble."

"What did you expect me to do? What part of you thinks I would stand to the side whilst my girl— whilst you get taken out. There was nothing legal about that tackle, the referee had been in Madrid's favour all game, I had no choice"

"I'm fine"

"You're in the hospital Leila, nothing about that is fine"

You couldn't believe Leila was downplaying the seriousness of what happened. You try to take a deep breathe trying not to let your emotions start making decisions, not that they hadn't already. In all the time she knew you, Leila had never seen you this angry. She didn't know what to do or say to you. Truth is she was fine and she would get discharged first thing in the morning but you didn't want to hear that.

"You hulked out. What happened to no code green?"She needed to change the heaviness of the conversation but her attempt at doing so seemed to have the opposite.

"You think this is funny" you raise your voice slightly "Why does nobody take me seriously!"

"Y/N that's not—“

"No! First my sister didn't take our relationship seriously. You clearly didn't because you broke up with me like it was nothing. I thought I was doing the right thing today. I will always protect the people I love and I will not apologise for that"

The tension in the room thickened. Your break up hadn't been discussed up until now and even so it probably wasn't the best time. You were overwhelmed and it's as if every emotion that you have ignored over the past few days have come back and attacked you. It was too much, a huge part of you wanted to leave so that Leila didn't see your weakness but you didn't want to leave her alone. Instead of leaving, you put as much distance between the two of you and refused to look her way, meanwhile Leila couldn't look at anything but you.

"It was a mistake"

Your head snaps in her direction. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Those 4 words had the power to break whatever was left of your heart.

"Our relationship wasn't a mistake. How could you say that?"

"Not our relationship. Me breaking up with you"

"Then why do it? You told me that nobody would get in the way of what we want but that's exactly what you let happen"

It was hard to explain and Leila knew you wouldn't see if from her point of view no matter how hard she tried. You had the right outlook, you loved her and that's all that mattered but it was the love she had for you that made her break up with you despite what it cost her.

"Because I saw that you missed your sister and I didn't want you to look back and hate me for getting the way"

"I could never hate you Leila. Trust me I have tried but the anger that I feel towards you fails in comparison to the love I have for you"

You thought you were been sweet with your words but by Leila's reaction you must have said something wrong. Her bottom lip begins to tremble as tears brim her eyes but it is only when tears fall do you go to her. Sitting on the edge of her bed you use your thumbs you wipe the tears that have already fallen, preparing to the same if new ones fall.

"Did I say something wrong?" Leila shakes her head "then why are you crying?"

"I ruined us"

You agreed with was she was saying but it sounded permanent, like your relationship was beyond fixable. It wasn't though, you knew this and Leila needed to know it too. What you had with Leila was rare and when she broke up with you she didn't give you a chance to fight for her, that wouldn't happen this time.

"We're not ruined Leila. I never wanted this to happen. I was very happy spending my nights with you—“

"Sure you were" a small chuckle escapes her lips.

"Not like that, well kind of like that but in other ways too. I loved the side you brought out in me, for the first time in a very long while I felt true happiness and I'm not ready to give up on us. Are you?"

The silence is deafening and you can't tell if Leila is trying to talk herself into it or if she is overthinking what happens if you do give things another try. It is only when Leila looks towards the door do her thoughts become clear.

“Please don’t think about her”

“I can’t not think about her Y/N”

Little did you know that Mapi & Patri had been eavesdropping on the conversation from the other side of the door and when she’s hears you talking about her, Mapi makes her presence know.

“Y/n’s right Leila” Mapi pops her head through the door “don’t think about me. I got in the way once and it cost me both on you. I promise you it won’t happen again”

You never needed your sister’s blessing but knowing you have it makes things a lot easier. You only hoped she would keep her word or at least give you and Leila a chance to show her what you have isn’t a fling. Ultimately Leila had all the power, you told her you wanted her and Mapi made her promise, now it was up to her.

The smirk that tugs at her lips gives you all you need to know and you couldn’t be happier. You didn’t care that your sister was in the room, you kiss Leila. It is short and sweet but just as you pull away Leila leans forward making it clear that she wasn’t done.

“Not in front of me please” Mapi uses her hand to cover her face.

“Then leave because I’m not done kissing my girlfriend” Leila didn’t have to tell her twice. She might have been on board with your relationship but she wasn’t going to stick around to see her little sister make out with her best friend.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi one shot #leila ouahabi imagine #mcwfc x reader #mcwfc one shot #mcwfc imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni one shot #barcelona femeni imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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scorpioriesling · 6 months

Text

Unsettled (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: None, actually hahahaha (yet, just you wait)

Warnings: None!

Summary: You go to Tamlin’s estate to make a delivery but instead, run into someone else. The unexpected happens and you’re left feeling… unsettled.

SR’s Note: I’m actually really liking where this is going, will probably have multiple parts!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

For those who dwell in courts outside that of the Spring court, the first thing you'd learn to get used to is the pollen. Amid the pleasantries that the court offered -- the aromas of the peonies in the spring season, the florals always in bloom, the billowing gardens across the lands -- one thing that a non-native might learn to get used to is all of the pollen invading your senses, especially in the springtime.

It wouldn't help that the pollen was always being stirred up, never settling too long. There was always something happening, something to do, or something to be done in the Spring court, which caused a lot of hustle and bustle for those who dwelled in and around the estate of the High Lord and his few trustees.

You'd been near the estate a few times; one time in particular, you actually entered the grounds. You'd only gone to deliver floral arrangements before Calanmai, a courtesy of your parent's shop in the court's square. It was the last stop on your route, and one that you had saved for last on purpose.

"Go to the estate first", your mother told you earlier that morning, as she secured the last of the floral arrangements in the small cart being towed by the proud, white mare before you. "We want Lord Tamlin receiving the freshest flowers from our shop; you can stop by the rest of the families on your way back." You nodded, slinging a leg over your horse, and preparing for the ride to the "estate", knowing you'd venture to every other home before arriving at those massive, iron gates.

But here you are. The gates before you, the yellow pollen wafting by in the breeze and infiltrating your nose. It almost makes you sneeze, but you hold back, and instead awkwardly raise a fist to... knock? Within seconds, the gates slowly drift open, the iron creaking as they beckon you in.

The pale stones clop clop clop under your horse's hooves, the sound steady and unmatched to the racing of your heart. Before you know it, you are on the staircase to the estate, and you feel as though you weigh the amount of a piano as you force yourself off your mare once more.

One step. Two. Three. Fifteen. You're almost to the top of the staircase, a floral wreath in one hand and a vase of peonies in the other. You have seen Tamlin before, of course; but have you spoken to him? What if you seem a fool? He is a High Lord. You curse your mother under your breath for making you come out here alone and deliver these. You also notice the lack of spring breeze, as a drop of sweat slides down the back of your neck beneath your braid and rolls below the collar of your blouse. It feels as if even the folds of your flowing skirt are sticking to your legs-

"How did you get past the front gate?"

You freeze, no breeze needed to feel the ice filling your veins. The firm voice sounded from behind you, but all you can do is stand perfectly still, too scared to turn around. What if it is Tamlin? What if he is angry with you for entering his home without permission?

Whoever is behind you huffs a laugh and speaks again. "You cannot make me believe you are a statue now; I've already seen you moving just moments ago."

Your brows narrow, and you shake your head, glancing down at the vase in your hand. Does this guy think you're an idiot? Obviously, you're a real person... you won't have any of this.

You turn on the ball of your foot, your boot scuffing on the stone stair beneath. Dramatically, the skirt that was not stuck to your legs whooshes around you too, and you finally get a good look at whoever is interrogating and ridiculing you.

You almost wish you had pretended to be a statue.

A tall, tanned-skin man with flaming red locks is peering up at you from the first step, arms crossed across his broad chest. The emerald green tunic he is sporting is a stark contrast to the copper strands, making them stand out even more. What also stands out is the pointed ears protruding slightly beyond those luscious locks. He is High Fae.

You know what you should do, what you’d do in the presence of any High Fae: bow, apologize, explain yourself. Any of the above? All of the above? But... instead, you begin your descent down the stairs. Water sloshes out of the vase you're holding, but you don't care.

One step. Two. Five.

You're stomping now, face heating in anger with each step you take.

Ten. Fourteen.

You come face to face with the High Fae male who you're ready to berate, but when you come to the bottom step, you're close enough to take him in more up close. One of his eyes is of russet, but gleaming with flecks of amber in hues that complement his hair. The other is golden and mechanical, a scar running from above his eyebrow through it and down to his cheekbone. A light scruff dusts the lower half of his face, and as you draw nearer, he only scowls more at you.

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, so I'll ask you again -- How. Did. You. Get. Past. The front. Gate?" He punctuates each word as if he is speaking to a child, which only causes your disdain to return. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

"Maybe I should ask you the same thing. This is the High Lord's manor, isn't it? And you aren't him." His frown turns into a snort, and he shakes his head at you. You don't allow his reaction to rattle you; you keep your stare firm.

"Glad to know you can speak," he begins. He steps off the first step, walking backwards and gesturing to the estate. "...and that you are aware who Tamlin is! Bravo." He bows at the waist in mockery, and you allow a small growl to escape your throat. He only chuckles in response, straightening and flicking his gaze back to you, seeming to only just notice the wreath and vase you are holding.

"What's with the romantic gesture? Planning to ask him for an evening with you?" He taunts. You take the last step down, your feet finally landing on the ground again. It isn't only your feet that land on the ground, but you feel grounded again inside. The red hair. The cocky attitude. The familiar ambience. Why couldn't you see it before? He is one of the Vanserra boys. He's practically screaming Beron. Anything to do with the Autumn court or that family, you want none of.

You bring yourself out of your thoughts, and back to reality. One foot in front of another, you walk right up to him, so close you can see every speck of pollen on his tunic. It has all settled atop the green fabric.

You shove the vase and wreath into his chest, catching him off guard. A few of the slightly wilted peony petals flutter to the ground, and the pollen on his jacket scatters up into the air around you. He takes a half step back to steady himself, eyes widening down at you. His mouth opens, a stunned look on his face, but before you let him spew anymore bullshit, you speak first.

"I don't need to bring flowers to anybody who has someone like you already living with them." You flash him a sarcastic smile and shrug your shoulders. Since the beginning of the interaction, he doesn't bark a retort or bite back at you. He just stands there, gawking at you.

The small feeling of victory against this newfound stranger swells inside as you stride over to your horse, tossing your braid over your shoulder and hopping up on it. You don't even spare a look back as you begin riding to the front of the grounds, though you want to. You want to see the smug look on that Vanserra's face; him standing there, finally looking silly after poking at you — someone he didn't even know! He is High Fae too … what a bad rap to start for someone of that stature, and from that lineage.

You might not have minded looking at him a bit longer, though. It was true that the arrogance was off-putting, but you had to admit, whoever he was, he was quite beautiful. Even with a stuffy pollen-covered tunic, he didn't look quite like anyone you'd ever seen before. He looked so, so much better.

The quiet, low pulling deep in your chest felt unsettling as you rode home in the afternoon sun. Why, and how could someone with such an attitude have such an effect on you? Because he was, what… attractive? It didn't matter, you'd get over it soon enough. You'd likely never see him again. You had no intent of visiting the estate ever again.

Yet, that feeling, the low and deep tugging, didn't subside.

✧･ﾟ: *

Part 2

#lucien x reader #acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar smut #lucien acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acofas #acotar fandom #acosf

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