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#man. only one nurse is actually paying attention to that though and she's also the one who handled my paperwork once where it said im trans
pokechbi · 11 months
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🎀The Holy Trinity🎀
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🎀summary🎀
Ghost x König x Soap x Reader (4sum) !!
18+ V NSFW!
Word count: 11.5k 💕 (not proofread yet!)
Enjoy! <3
She was the invisible woman they didn’t know they needed. The woman no one seemed to pay any attention to as she quickly paced the hallways trying to get back to the sanctity of her office. No one actually paid her any mind, howbeit her detrimental job as the base medic. She had been tasked to perform her duties in the wing that housed the Special Forces, along with the men of Task Force 141. There were many powerful, brave soldiers that could’ve caught her attention, but there were 3 in particular that grabbed her by her very womanhood and kept on squeezing, threatening her morals and standards to leak right out of her.
König, the 6’10, patriotic Austrian beast of a soldier who most definitely was a man of few words. When she treated him, he sat confidently, staring a hole into her soul. He was definitely a man whom she felt was socially anxious, and in a way it made her feel, connected to him. She had imagined that it had to be due to his size. He was hard to miss, often turning heads and stopping conversations everywhere he went. She felt the same way at times, finding solstice in being alone, and away from the terrifying stare and judgement from the rest of the soldiers and staff on the base. She wasn’t bullied, but she was definitely not one who fit in with the rest of the medics in her department. She made it a priority to do her deed and leave to her apartment at the end of the day, not bothering to make many friends. The only friends she had managed to make were the two nurses who tended to the front end of the medical ward in the Task Force’s wing. The three of them often went out for drinks at the bar just outside of the base’s gates.
König rarely spoke to her, but when he did, she found herself wanting it to never end. His voice was honey to her ears, a warm embrace in a cold and hard world. Even sitting down on the bed, he towered over her and made her hands shake and her heart pound so hard in her ears she was sure he could hear it. A habit she managed to kick years ago, working endlessly to rid herself of her shaky fingers and anxiety. All come undone by the simple presence of him. In a way, she secretly adored it. Adored him. She found herself thinking of him at the end of a long day, much like a teenage girl still in grade school. She was curious about him, and wanted to know all there was about the mysterious giant. What he looked like under that sniper hood, under his shirt, under those tight military cargos that she was sure got uncomfortably snug when he was aroused. It was nonsense, and she knew that. There was no way a man of his rank would even spare a second glance at her. But it was fun to fantasize.
John “Soap” MacTavish was the polar opposite of König. He was surely a man who would voice his mind whenever and wherever. She admired that about him. He spoke what was real, and gave not a single fuck about it. He was also a sweetheart, always throwing compliments her way and making her feel like hot shit. His spunky Mohawk was always a sight she loved to see in her examination room, and she made sure he knew it. She would return the favor of any compliments he spared her way, and it caused their friendship to blossom. She hoped it would evolve into something more, but Soap seemed like the kind of man who’d wham bam and thank you ma’am, albeit the romantic that he was. She wouldn’t mind it either way, though. A little taste of him couldn’t hurt.
And then there was Simon “Ghost” Riley. The grandest enigma of all three. The man was truly nerve wracking to be around. As nervous and anxious as he made her, she couldn’t help but feel enticed by his mysterious aura. She had no idea how he had managed to find himself on the same team as Soap, as menacing and serious as he usually was when around the base. When he found himself in her examination room, his eyes lingered a bit too long wherever she would touch last. She never knew why he did this, until their small talk had turned into something much more meaningful on one particular visit.
“You’ve got a soft touch, dear.” His rough, jagged accent ran from her ears straight down to that spot that made her squeeze her thighs together to keep it from leaving her. Hearing it wasn’t enough. She wanted it injected in her veins.
“No medic on this base has ever been this bloody gentle. They ought to hire more o’ ya.” He said with a low chuckle. That small, insignificant laugh regularly rang through her mind at the most unexpected moments. She could be doing dishes, cleaning her desk, anything. That laugh stuck to her like glitter on sweaty, sticky skin. She knew it wasn’t something he did often, so when she heard it, an icy cold shiver enveloped her skin and raised goosebumps. She loved it. Wanted to hear more. The lieutenant had her in a chokehold and there was nothing she could do to free herself.
So when she found herself sat in the same vicinity as the trio and a few of the other members of the Task Force in the bar just a ways off base on her birthday, she was understandably a nervous wreck. Just a few tables away, she felt as if the trio were breathing straight down her neck.
**✧*̥˚<3 *̥˚✧**
“Man, that hen from the medical wings’ got a crush on me, mark my words lads.” The Scot breathes, glancing over his shoulder. “Been givin’ me the eyes past few weeks.”
“Fuck’s sake, Johnny. She’s doing her job. Every time a woman spares you a look, you go whipped.” Simon says sternly, also glancing up at her every few minutes. He also found himself painfully interested in her, not wanting to admit to something that could threaten or demean the persona he’s worked so hard to build up. Often times he feels himself unable to help it, her soft touch and sweet smell permeating his senses when he’s least expecting it. No amount of working out, training, or smoking could shake the insatiable hunger he was starting to develop for her. He would visit her office when she was so blissfully unaware of him, just to see how she looked when she was swamped with paperwork, or just relaxing on her break. He was genuinely interested in how she lived, how she loved, how she felt. He hated Soap for the way he started to mention her in the lewdest of ways, only encouraging his raging, exponential growth of feelings for her. A medic? Of all the hardcore, tough women on base that could do him just right, he wanted that one. The one who’s knees would buckle under her if he so much as breathed in her ear. He wondered what it would take to break her mind, body and soul until all she could think about was his thick, fat cock and all the places she could take him. He shifts in his seat at the thought of it, adjusting his pants. God forbid if Johnny saw the way he was rocked up at just the mere sight of her. He’d never hear the end of it.
“What about you, König?” Soap says with a sly smirk. His ears perk up at his name, usually excluded from the conversation due to his introverted nature. “Want a piece of ‘er? I know you do.” He leans forward, lowering his voice. “All the quiet ones are the biggest freaks, aye?” He continues.
“ Ich würde sie direkt an diesem Tisch ficken.” König says lowly, hoping no one else at this club spoke his language. Soap and Ghost glance at each other in confusion.
König knew what Soap said rang true. On all of his visits to her examination room, he’d put on this facade of being stone cold, not interested. But he was more than interested. He wanted to know how she would fare under his touch, how much it would take for him to absolutely ruin her. He was nervous at the very sight of her. She was the reason he’d taken his hygiene more seriously. The reason he started scrubbing his cock and balls more thoroughly every shower, on the off chance that he’d actually get to take her right on that little hospital bed he had made more excuses to come and sit on. She was the reason he became distracted from his work, all of his thoughts eventually turning into some unholy fantasy about her. He often fiddled with his knives to distract himself, to ground himself from any given stress. But to no avail. He wondered if she liked knives, if it was something she’d ever even thought about, if it was something she would let him teach her. It always started innocently like that. Then he wondered how fast he’d be able to cut every single piece of clothing off of her. He wanted to run the knife along her pretty, velvety skin, marking her with every swipe of the blade. Marking her with him.
Surprised at the silence at the table after he asked, Soap grew curious. He chuckled deviously as he leans forward, speaking lowly, keeping out of earshot from the rest of the table. “Well then, lads. I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And I’ve got the filthiest of ideas for a solution.”
**✧*̥˚ <3 *̥˚✧**
“ Their eyes are all over you. How do you not see it!” Her friend Belinda states, uncomfortably loud. She was glad to see that it wasn’t just her delusions making an appearance. Or the alcohol making her see things that weren't there. She smiles, looking down at her half-empty glass.
“There’s no way, Bal. Why would any of them be interested in me? I’m literally a nobody here” She states, smugly trying to fish more validation out of her. She takes another sip of her drink, wincing at how strong it was. It was her birthday. This was no time for girly drinks. She needed some liquid confidence. She had set her mind to approach one of them, but had no idea who would she would take the chance with. It was an ongoing debate that had been going on in her head for the past few weeks, her nerves practically incapacitating her whenever one of them showed up in her exam room. It felt silly, as if she were simply window shopping at the mall.
“You’re right, Bal. They’re all staring. Maybe they want you guys too. There’s enough of them to go around” She says with a low chuckle, a quiet green monster stirring awake in her belly. She couldn’t stand to see any of them wanting to be with anyone else, even if she had no right to feel that way. She hadn’t managed to speak any of them in a romantic manner other than Soap, who surely wanted in her panties by now. Maybe he’d be the one. Or König. Or Simon. All she knew was that she needed to be satiated. And fast.
“Well hello there ladies, how are ‘ye?” The Scot’s voice rang against her ears, making her freeze in place. She hadn’t seen him walk to their table, spaced out with the thoughts of who she would try and approach first. The girls were just as stunned as she was, smiling up flirtatiously at Soap through their eyelashes. She wanted to jump across the table and bash both of their heads against each other. She flinched at the new feeling she had, the newfound possession in her blood made her confused. She looked up at him, parting her lips to speak.
“It’s her birthdayyyy!” Bal says drunkenly, interrupting the modest approach she was going for.
“Well then!” Soap says, looking down at her, something close to amusement in his eyes. She could get used to this angle. “Come celebrate with us! We’ve got some pints about to roll out, what d’ ya say?” The entire table looks at her, waiting for an answer. Her mouth hangs open, the words stuck in her throat.
Her friend grabs her hand and practically drags her from the table. Bal and Sophia giggle like girls as they start approaching they boys’ table. Her heart pounds so hard, it threatens to break open its bony cage in hopes of escaping out of her mouth. When they finally reach the table, Bal and Sophia slide into the table, Soap smugly sitting in between the both of them. She bites her bottom lip nervously, the only spot left would be smushed in between König and Ghost. Not that it particularly bothered her, but it was still something embarrassing to have to do against her own will. In public, at that. She didn’t need the entire bar population to know that she would be more than happy to put all of her holes to use at once. She glances between the both of them as Ghost stands up, offering a spot between him and König.
“After you, luv” he says lowly. Goosebumps raise on her arms at the sound of his deep, husky, accented voice. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to hear the way he must have groaned and growled if she rode his cock like a cowgirl racing her favorite horse. She felt heat rise to her ears at the sudden infiltration of a dirty thought.
“Well thank you, Lieutenant. Didn’t know you were such a gentleman!” She says flirtatiously, the liquid courage going straight to her head. He freezes slightly at the way she addresses him, sending a white hot wave of deviousness to settle right in his balls. She smiles as she sits down, scooting closer to König’s large frame. She looks across the table to her friends, watching as their eyes widen at his height. He was the tallest at the table, even though he was sitting down. She loved to see the way he turned heads. The way women seemed to either cower from him, or wanted in his pants and how there seemed to be no in between. And she was no exception. She took a certain pride in being his primary care provider, feeling on top of the world sitting next to the king-sized man.
“Hey, König. How are you?” She says, greeting him quietly and sweetly. She spoke softly as if she would scare him away. She had a different approach for each man. She had it all calculated in her head, the subject being something that lingered in her thoughts for weeks and weeks on end. She felt pathetic trying to choose in between the three of them, not wanting to choose at all. She wished she could take them all at once, no regrets in the world. For Soap, she knew she wouldn’t have to hold back. She could be as flirty as she wanted, with not a care. She knew he’d soak it up like a damn sponge. For Ghost, she wanted to appear just as hard of a nut to crack as he did. She wanted to play mysterious too. For König, she knew he was a dominant, insatiable beast. How could a man of that stature not be? She wasn’t opposed to the idea of him making her his absolute whore.
“I’m well darling. And you?” He says his Austrian accent wet and thick on his words. The visible lines of his eyes squeezing together under his sniper hood. He was smiling? She thought to herself. Now that was a sight she could get used to seeing. She smiled back at him, parting her lips to speak, when the Scot interrupts her once again. Maybe his mouth wouldn’t run so much if he had someone sitting on it. She thought, heat rising to her ears and spreading to her cheeks. The more she sipped her drink, the bolder she felt her thoughts getting, threatening to breach the vocal barrier she’d worked so hard to build.
“It’s the lass’s birthday, aye? We’ll need some way to celebrate the life of our favorite doctor on base!” He says enthusiastically, raising his glass for a cheer. They all clink their glasses together, her eyes landing on König’s as she smirks at Soaps annoyingness. He smiles again and leans down to whisper in her ear.
“Happy birthday, Liebling.” He says lowly, his breath raising the hairs on her entire body. She looks at him and absentmindedly yet softly wraps her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a small hug. His muscles tensed under her touch, and his hands hesitated wrapping themselves around her waist as she hugged him.
“Thank you, König.” She says sweetly, an innocent smile splayed on her face.
She nuzzles her face in his neck, inhaling his masculine, musky pheromones. He smelled of what she would envision a man’s pure, raw love to smell like. She wanted it all over her skin, all over her bedsheets for her to smell the next morning.
“Do I smell good, doctor?” He says teasingly, her arms still wrapped around his neck. His Austrian accent rings through her ears, sinuously slithering it’s way down her core and settling into the deepest parts of her womanhood.
She freezes in place, letting out a breathy chuckle of embarrassment. She quickly gathers her thoughts and fixes the situation the only way she knows how. By flirting.
“You do, sir. Not sure what cologne you use, but I like it.” She purrs, leaning into his ear, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. He freezes under her touch, looking up at her with his half lidded blue orbs. She instantly noticed that look in his eyes. It was pure lust. And she wanted every single part of what it had to offer. She looked back at him with her same drunken gaze, not wanting to break the stare, afraid this moment would run out of the door, never to be seen again. Was he the one she wanted?
“Well thank you doctor, but I’m not wearing any.” He concludes smugly, scanning her face gently for a reaction. She smiles deviously, taking a sip of her drink and hoping to God he doesn’t notice the deep shade of red spreading from her ears to her entire face. She sits back, only now noticing how quiet the table got. She looks around and makes eye contact with her friends across the way, both of them seemingly shell-shocked at the bold display from her and Konig. She smiles at him, placing her glass down. They all begin speaking again. She looks her to her left at Ghost. As many times as she spent alone with him, he still wracked her nerves. He can tell that was the effect he had on her, so he leaned close to her and spoke near her ear with his hot, accented breath that sent shivers up her spine.
“Happy birthday, luv. Surely you don’t plan on spending it here, with the men who are always hurt and working you the hardest?” He says lowly, his voice barely a rasp. She bites her lip at his comment. He was surprisingly right. She could’ve been spending her birthday somewhere nicer. Maybe in the city, far away from her workplace. But she knew what she wanted for her birthday. She smiled at the thought.
“Oh? And why’s that, L.t?” She says teasingly, subtly scooting her way closer to him. His smell inches its way to her nose and wrapping itself around her brain. He smelled of masculine musk, cedarwood and the rough smell of the outdoors. He looked her face up and down, his gaze landing on her lips. He catches her gaze again and looks away, embarrassed at his own forwardness. She smirks to herself at his boldness. She sits back in her seat between Konig and Ghost, feeling like an ant between two mountains. She looks at Soap across the table. He was in the middle of a conversation with her two friends, shooting a glance her way ever so often.
Her friends finish off their drinks, drunkenly giggling with Soap as he makes endless flirtatious jokes and dirty innuendos.
“Well birthday girl…” Sophia starts, gathering her purse and phone, scooting to the end of the booth as she gets up, presumably to leave her alone with all three men like a madwoman. “We’d love to stick around, but we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” Bal starts to get up also, scooting past Soap, she shoots them a look. A glare that could cut diamonds. There was no way she wouldn’t break down into an absolute nervous mess as the only woman under the three men’s gazes. Her anger turned into pleading, and she shot her friends a desperate look of help me before they giggled and rushed out of the bar. They knew what they were doing. Her mouth hung agape as the three men ran their eyes all over her.
“And then there were four, aye?” Soap says, finishing the last of his drink.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
“You want to…what?” She says, her mouth hanging open, her eyes shooting between the three men as she’s taken aback by their proposal. “All…three of you?” Her voice comes out barely a squeak. She looks down at her glass, her drink long gone. The glass was still sweating in the suddenly humid bar, the condensation moistening her fingers. Soap, Konig and Ghost look at each other, a smug, hungry look in their eyes. She suddenly felt much smaller, as if her lungs were shrunk to a point where they couldn’t take enough air to support her brain function. She couldn’t possibly deny them. She couldn’t. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. A dream of many women on the base. Soap was no giant, but the other two…she should be scared. But she wasn’t. She craved to know what they all felt like. What they all looked like under their rough military attire. How they would all fit on her Queen sized bed. She nudges Ghost beside her, wanting to stand up. He slid out of the booth and let her stand, staying stood beside her, looking down at her with a lust laced stare. His eyes ran up and down her body, starting from her eyes and trailing all the way down to the low heels she wore. Her gaze fell to the floor as she cleared her throat before speaking.
“We won’t be mad if you say no, dear.” König says before she could speak, his voice almost a whisper. He spoke to her as if she would break if he spoke to her. She looked at him with grace, the thoughts running through her head anything but. She clears her throat again. The thought of denying them seemed to be a bigger sin than what she was agreeing to.
“Um…sure. We can do that” she says, nodding her head. She let out her statement as if the opportunity would slip through her fingers, as if it would expire any moment. She smiles at them as they look among themselves, smug in their eyes.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
The cab ride to her apartment was going to be nothing short of awkward, her squishing herself between three gigantic soldiers, two of them masked. The driver asked no questions and nervously drove off from the bar. The ride was filled with a certain bloated tension that could have surely spilled over at the slightest of movements. She sat tensely between König and Soap, the three of them barely fitting in the back seat. The scot placed his hand on her left knee, nonchalantly moving it further and further up under her skirt. König looked at them through his sniper hood, doing the same to her right knee. They looked at her like hawks to prey as she felt her panties moisten with anticipation. Soap was the first to reach the hem of her panties, slipping a finger through them. She jumped slightly at the sudden contact. He moved his finger deeper into her panties, reaching her weeping hole. He leaned down and whispered into her neck.
“Tsk tsk, so ready for me aren’t ‘ya?” His warm accented breath caressed her skin, sending signals to her brain for her to spread her legs right then and there. She bites her bottom lip, unable to part them in fear of the most ungodly of noises escaping them. Without warning, he enters a thick finger right into her. She gasps quietly, glancing at the driver and praying that he hadn’t heard. She was sure he knew something was up back there, but with the ecstasy Soap’s finger was causing to run through her every blood cell, she couldn’t bring herself to care. He pumps his finger in and out of her, curling it ever so slightly and grazing the one spot that would bring her to her orgasm. She looks up at him, her eyes lidded and tears brimming her eyelids. He was driving her insane, simply by the curve of a thick digit. She can see the slight smirk on his lips, his smugness driving her crazy as he drags his finger out of her abruptly. She let out a quiet whimper, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. Her head whips around to look at König, who’s hand had hovered by the hem of her panties as Soap did his thing to her. She can see his eyes squint, signaling that he was smiling.
She parts her legs the slightest bit, the only bit that she could while being sandwiched between the two men. He wastes no time in slipping a finger into her panties, taking a slight pause when he notices just how wet she really was. He glanced up at Soap, an amused look in his eyes. His fingers were much larger than Soap’s, evident by the way he slightly struggled to get his hand in her panties. He withdraws, then pulls out the smallest of pocket knives. Her eyes widen at the glistening blade, looking at the driver to make sure he hadn’t noticed the weapon. He reaches down between her legs, a nervous look written on her face. She stares at him, absolutely oblivious to what he’s about to do. She hears the noise of fabric ripping, and a gust of cold air hit her clit as she realizes. He had just expertly sliced the crotch part of her panties right open. How he hadn’t cut her was beyond her. Her mouth remains open in awe as he puts the knife back into its respective spot in his belt. He stares at her in the eyes through the whole ordeal, a starved look in his green eyes. His hands travel back up her thighs as his finger rests in the spot she wouldn’t want anywhere else at the moment. He inserts a finger into her hole, still slick with juices and ready for him. His other hand palms his crotch secretively, and his eyes roll back into his head as he dips his head forward. He bottoms out his thick finger, long and muscular. She wondered if his fingers were this large, what he must be carrying between his thighs. She looks down at his crotch, the imprint of his half hard cock showing itself. She wanted nothing more than his pants off in that moment. He curled his finger, the length of it reaching more spots than Soap had managed to get to. He continuously flicked her swollen nub of nerves inside of her, causing her to buck her hips forward. Her movements caused the leather seat under her to squeak slightly. Soap places a hand on her knee, stilling her. She shakes from holding in her moans, which she was surprisingly able to do considering the giant finger pumping itself in and out of her and stimulating her plushy walls. König enters another finger inside of her, stretching her hole. She places a hand on his strong forearm, the thick ropes of muscles flexing as he continues fingering her pussy. She feels her juices run out of her and down her thigh as they pool under her ass. As he continues, she feels the familiar tightening of her core. She squeezes his arm tightly, looking up at his green eyes as she reaches her orgasm. He takes notice of her approaching climax and slows his pace, letting her ride it out slowly as she struggles not to buck her hips forward. Her breathing begins to get sporadic and hitched as the hot coil inside of her snaps, and a thousand pound wave of euphoric pleasure melts her brain in the backseat of the cab.
She starts to taste blood in her mouth from biting her lip, trying to stifle her moans and whimpers as best she can. König palms his dick at the sight of her, a heavy breath escaping his lips. He pulls his finger from out of her, sliding them up and coating her clit with her juices. She jumps slightly at the sudden touch to her sensitive bundle of nerves as he flicks it with his middle finger. Soap continues holding her down by the knee, a look of amusement in König’s eyes as he overstimulates her. He takes his hand from under her skirt, inspecting his fingers as they glisten with her juices. He raises his hand to his mask, slipping his hand under as she hears the sound of him putting his fingers in his mouth. She rests her head on the headrest behind her as she looks at him in awe. So he was a freak, under that stoic, mysterious aura he always gave off. She steadies her breathing, noticing how they were around the corner from her apartment. She looks past König at Ghost, his jeans uncomfortably tight in his crotch area as the imprint of his cock makes an appearance. She licks her lips at the sight, looking up to his eyes hungrily.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
As she unlocks the door to her apartment, she feels the hungry gaze of all three men on her back. She felt as if she were turning her back to a starved pack of wolves, ready to pounce on her at any moment. She walks in first, turning to meet their gazes. Ghost walks in first, followed by König and Soap. She smiles at them nervously as they look around her apartment, taking at her decor. She bends down to take her heels off, suddenly feeling a strong hand on her hip. She freezes in place as a gruff voice caresses her ear.
“Sit on the couch, love” Ghost says gently. She walks to the couch in her living room, her heel strap half undone. She sits down as Ghost approaches her slowly, the soft fabric of the couch caressing her thighs. He gets down on one knee in front of her, and takes her ankle in his hand. Her ankle fit snugly into his hand, his large fingers wrapping around it. König and Soap watch as he begins undoing her heel straps, his fingers grazing her skin and leaving a hot trail of fire in its wake. He looks up at her, and back down. His eyes travel to underneath her skirt, chuckling to himself at the mess that König made with her panties.
Once he gets both heels off, he runs his warm hands up her legs and to her hips when he lifts her right off the couch as if she weighed nothing. He walked through the small hallway as she straddled him, her legs wrapped around his jeaned hips. The rough material of his jacket rubbed against her clit slightly, causing her to let out a starved moan.
“Such a needy girl, aren’t you, lovie” he says in her ear, his eyes lidded with hunger through his balaclava.
She looks over his shoulder at Soap and König as they follow him to her bedroom. She smiles at them as they strut through her apartment, their large stature making it feel tiny. As they reach her bedroom, she looks Ghost in his eyes, darkened with lust as he swings the door open. Once he sees the bed, he wastes no time in throwing her on it.
The way they don’t speak definitely intimidated her. She knew she was in for it when they all stood in a line, staring down at her on the bed. All three men begin undressing, starting with their jackets.
She gulps before breaking the silence. “So…who’s first?” She says, her voice shaky with anticipation. They all glance at her, a smirk written on Soap’s face. He chuckles.
“Who said anything about taking turns, lass?” He asks nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head. She looked at his body, his prominent abs jutting from his skin. His abdominal muscles flex and the light pink scars move as he throws his shirt on the carpeted floor. He unbuckles his jeans, sliding them down at the same time as his boxers. His cock jumps forward, twitching to attention. He wasn’t too long, but his shaft was surely thick and veins protruded from the soft skin. He approaches her first, sitting on the bed next to her and placing a hand on her thigh as the heat from his hard dick radiated onto her leg. He leans over and lightly kisses her neck, seemingly holding back the passion and hunger that’s rubbing through his veins. He runs his tongue over the soft skin on her neck as his hands run up and down her belly. She moans aloud as he leaves small love bites on her. Hearing the continued shuffling noises of the other two men undressing, she looks over to König as he begins pulling his sniper hood off. She stares at him in awe as he reveals his face to her for the first time. He was simply gorgeous. He had strong centric European features, his nose large with a sharp bump on the bridge, and plush pink lips that parted once she made eye contact with him. He had dirty blonde stubble littering his strong jaw.
“You’re…so handsome, König” she says in awe, the words barely coming out as a squeak. He smiles at her, his charmingly crooked teeth making an appearance. He was perfect. She wanted him inside of her immediately. But impatience would get her nowhere in this situation. Soap bites her neck harder, seemingly out of jealousy. She jumps and smiles as he does this, noticing the knowing look on his face.
“No favorites, lovie” Soap says, softly licking to soothe the spot he bit harshly.
“Thank you, Liebling.” König says gently, his German caressing her ears and shooting right down into her core. He continues undressing, kicking his cargo pants off and kicking them to the side. He pulls his underwear down next, his cock springing up and letting out a quiet smack as it bounces off his stomach. He was huge. She was no virgin, but the sheer size of it made her shudder. It was long and thick, matching the gigantic size of the rest of him. She looked at it nervously as he began stepping forward.
“Don’t be nervous, dear. I’ll be gentle with you” he says softly, crawling onto the bed in front of her. She smiles at him in response. He lies on her right, with Soap on her left.
As Soap continues his work on her neck, she looks past him at Ghost, now naked as well. His cock seemed to be the perfect size. He was big, just like him, but he wasn’t packing a monster like König. He grabs his shaft, slowly stroking it as he walks forward. He lets out a grunt as he crawls on the bed, taking the only spot left being in front of her. With all three men now laying before her naked, her heart pounded in her ears in nervousness. König gets to work on her shirt, lifting it over her head, leaving her in her bra and skirt. He palms her right breast, running a thumb over her tender nipple through the padded fabric of her bra. He lets out a low chuckle at the sight of it.
“Sit up for me, Liebling” he says, a smile lacing his voice. She looked at Soap as she sits up, her neck still moist with his saliva. König begins to fiddle with her bra strap, one of the hooks resisting. He grunts as he continues to fiddle with it. All of a sudden she hears a loud rip as her bra falls down to her thighs. She looks at him as he smiles at her nonchalantly.
“I will have no panties or bras to wear if you keep this up, König” she says, giggling at his short temper.
“Good, I like you better that way, dear.” he says in her ear, gently pushing her chest down so she can lie on her back. He wastes no time in going for her nipple, wrapping his lips around them and flicking the bud with his tongue. She moans, holding his head in place. Soap does the same as König, sucking and biting at her other nipple. The double stimulation was driving her crazy, it was enough to pull an orgasm out of her right then. She bucked her hips into the air as she looked over both of their heads at Ghost. He was naked all except his balaclava. She knew he wanted to conceal his identity, so she didn’t press the matter. And with both men sucking and biting at her nipples, she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. It was a discussion for another time. She knew she was soaked, she could feel her slick practically dripping down her thighs. Ghost looks down at her as he moves his hand from his cock to her thighs, running them up and down her skin and landing on her hips. He wraps his fingers in the waistline of her skirt, pulling it down roughly. She lifted her hips to assist him in getting her naked, parting her legs as soon as it was pulled off. He threw it to the floor, looking at her exposed pussy with nothing short of starvation.
“I don’t think you know how long I’ve waited for this, lovie” he says, leaning down on his stomach and positioning his head between her legs. He pulls his balaclava over his mouth, resting it on the bridge of his nose, exposing his dark stubbled jaw. He wraps his arms under her thighs, holding her in place. He reaches around her thigh and thumbs her clit, the sudden contact making her buck her hips forward. The three of them stimulated her all at once, making her brain dizzy with pleasure. She cries out as he circles her clit.
“God damn, look how wet you are baby.” He says, his voice low, coming out much like a growl. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He continues, his breath caressing her heat. Ghost dips his head forward as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, running a stripe along her entire slit. She cries out in pleasure, her moans ringing off the walls. She slides her hips forward, burying her clit in his face.
“I love the way you sing for us, lass.” Soap praises against her breast. She rolls her eyes back, unable to focus on anything as all three men work on her simultaneously. Ghost continues eating her out, sucking and flicking his tongue over her clit as König raises his head from her breast. He pinches her nipples as he leans down to her face.
“You’re doing so well for us, Liebling.” He whispers, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. “T-thank you, König” she whimpers. He closes the gap between them, kissing her with a hunger she can only describe as ravenous. He takes her bottom lip in his, biting at it gently. She moans into his mouth as they make out. His stubble scratches roughly against her mouth, resulting in her lips to swell and plump. He continues palming at her breast, caressing her body as he kisses her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but she loved how he was the gentlest with her, caressing her and putting her pleasure first. She feels a finger on her chin, turning her head to her left. Soap turns her face towards him, kissing her swollen lips. She swirls at the mix of smells, both men’s musk filling her nostrils and settling on her breath. He continues kissing her hungrily, caressing her cheek roughly. He moans into her mouth and stroked himself beside her. She reaches next to her, König’s cock not hard to find. She takes it in her hand, the thick shaft hard as a rock in her small hand. She takes the head in her hand first, thumbing his slit and smearing his precum over it. He lets out a pitched moan, close to a whimper. She smiles at his noises, his moans driving her over the edge. She feels the familiar tightening in her core. König caresses her breast as she continues stroking his thick shaft, all while kissing Soap and practically riding Ghost’s face from under him. He pulls away as he feels her tense around his tongue, parting with a kiss on her sensitive clit.
“Not just yet, baby. Can’t have ‘ya tappin’ out on us can we?” He says nonchalantly, standing up on his knees. She whimpers as he stands.
“P-please, Simon.” She breaks the kiss with Soap as she pleads, the desperation practically leaking off her tongue. The use of his government name was a means to beg him into continuing. He shakes his head hearing her call him by his name, smiling at her smugly. He pulls his balaclava down over his mouth as he leans forward, placing a finger on her chin and pulling her face forward.
“Oi, don’t you dare try and entice me ‘ya little minx. Be patient like a good little puppy, right lads?” He says. The two men on either side of her nod their heads, and let out a string of mhms. König continues moaning and grunting as she strokes him messily. He places his hand over hers, guiding her and noticing her becoming undone more and more by the minute. She looks back up to Ghost, who begins lining himself up with her pussy. He holds her legs apart as he slides his tip up and down her slit, coating it in her slick. She moans, looking back at König as he watches her face contort with pleasure. He watches her with such admiration, such devotion that her brain screamed at her to jump his cock first. She stared at him with nervousness as Ghost begins pushing his tip inside of her, letting out s groan as he does so. She bucks her hips forward, feeling him falter as he stretches her hole.
“So fucking…tight” he says breathlessly, pushing into her. She feels the pressure build up in her core, electric waves of pleasure shooting through her spine as he connects himself to her walls. In no time he bottoms out, his balls laid against her ass. He begins thrusting in and out of her, his grip on her thigh becoming rougher and rougher with each thrust. She lets out a loud moan, close to a yell. König continues sucking and biting her nipples, leaving hickies all along her breast. Soap leans over to her face, kissing her again as Ghost continues fucking her senseless. Their hips slap together lewdly as he fucks her, his dick hitting her swollen bundle of nerves inside of her. He moans and grunts aloud, his gruff voice music to her ears.
“Fuck, lovie. You feel so good. So…inviting.” He says, lifting her leg and throwing it over his shoulder. The new position would allow for him to reach her deepest spots, the part of her walls no man had ever ventured before. She cries out as he hits her cervix repeatedly, the pain turning into instant pleasure as he opens her up and sexes her most sensitive spots. He grunts loudly and squeezes her foot next to his head. He continues pumping in and out of her, throwing out praises and slurred words. His thrusts falter as he slows down, gently lowering her leg off his shoulder. “I won’t last long if I keep that up, sweetheart.” He chuckles, slowly pulling out of her. “On your knees, baby.”
She takes a second, catching her breath before sitting up. König and Soap move over slightly as she gets on her hands and knees. Ghost wastes no time in pushing his fat cock into her again, hitting her deepest, sensitive spots in this position. She cries out as he grabs the fat of her ass, landing a few rough spanks to the soft, plushy skin. They were surely going to be bruised the next day, not that she would mind. He curses out as she backs her hips onto him, allowing his dick to go even deeper, if even possible. “Such a good little puppy. Listenin’ so well.” She looks up at Soap and König as they watch her get railed and praised by the masked man behind her.
“Tsk tsk, we’ve oughta put your other hole to use, right König?” Soap says, grabbing her by the chin as he strokes his cock to the sight of her getting fucked stupid. König grunts in response, his hand replaced hers as he also strokes himself, unbelievably aroused by the sight of her thoughts being fucked right out of her head. She smiles to the two men as she understands what he’s insinuating. She opens her mouth wide, tongue hanging out like the puppy Ghost praised her so well to be. Soap shuffles towards her face, his thick cock in hand. She takes his head between his lips, feeling how swollen and plump it was with arousal. He moans breathlessly as he bucks his hips forward, gently fucking her mouth. She teases him by licking the precum off of his slit, and licking her lips, coating her lips with his juice. He bites his lip at the sight of her, roughly grabbing her hair from the back of her head.
“Such a dirty lass. Who knew?” He says breathlessly, shoving half of his dick in her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks as she takes him, bobbing her head forward. As Ghost fucks her from behind, she involuntary takes him deeper in her mouth with each thrust. In no time his tip grazed the back of her throat, causing her to gag and tear up as he groans and grunts. He begins fucking her face ruthlessly, the hunger getting the best of him. She gags as tears brim her eyes, tears and drool spilling over onto the bed below her.
“Look at ‘ya. Dirty, drooling little puppy. This’ll stick in my head for a while” he chuckles, tightening his grip on her hair.
He continues thrusting his cock deep into her mouth as Ghost goes feral on her pussy. He continues spanking her, praising her as she tries to pleasure both men simultaneously. Soap slows his thrusts, dragging them out. He pushes into her mouth until his pubic hair brushes her nose, and pulls out almost all the way, properly slutting out her mouth. She feels weight shift beside her as König lies beside her. He reaches below her, his middle finger rubbing her wet clit as Ghost continues pumping into her. Unable to look at him, she moans on Soap’s shaft. He grunts at the added stimulation, her moans vibrating the nerves on the head of his cock. As König circles her clit, she feels a hot wave of pleasure grow inside of her. She feels as if she’s about to simply implode, clenching tightly around Ghost. He slows his pace, unable to fuck her as angrily when she was clenched so tightly around him. His cock met resistance, causing him to moan loudly as he leans over her, hands still tightly gripping her ass and hips. She cries out, muffled by the thick dick in her throat as a stream of her juices spray out under her, pooling in König’s hand. He chuckles, bringing his hand from under her gently.
“Little Liebling, you’ve made such a mess, hm?” He purrs in her ear, standing on his knees. Her thighs shake and tremble, threatening to buckle as her body weakens. König made her squirt, which she was sure was a group effort, but it stunned her nonetheless. Soap lessens his grip on her head, letting her up for air. She looks towards König at he stares down at his hand covered in her squirt. He stares her in the eyes lustfully, bringing his hand to his thick cock. He uses her juices to wet his shaft, moaning and grunting as he jerks himself with her slick. She stares at him in awe, as he lies back down and begins circling her clit once more with his free hand. The sight alome was enough to drive her over the edge. She feels her knees buckling under her once more as he pleasures her sensitive bud again, resulting in Ghost grabbing her hips to keep her up.
Ghost’s thrusts falter once again, this time he stops completely. She whimpers onto Soap’s shaft in need, bucking her hips backwards for more. Ghost chuckles. Behind her as she whines. He pulls out of her as he leans downward, whispering in her ear. “You’ve brought me to the edge, lovie. Can’t cum just yet. ‘M not done with ‘ya.” He growls, his gruff voice distracting her from Soap. He leans back up, giving her a last smack on her ass as he motions Soap behind her. They switch spots, Ghost now on her right, Soap lining himself up with her entrance, and König still below her, fingering her clit. He looks at her in awe as the two men switch themselves, using both her holes as he focuses on her pleasure. She puts him on a pedestal for this, metaphorically wanting to save him for last. She smiles at him, her eyes lidded with tiredness. He smiles back at her, his charming crooked teeth flashing at her. Her heart melts at him, but their moment is cut short when Soap shoves himself into her.
“God, lass. So tight. Even after you’ve taken such a big cock in ‘ya?” He says breathlessly. He grunts as he bottoms out inside of her. She cries out, the double stimulation from him fucking her to the hilt and König’s thick fingers caressing her clit from under her, not to mention the stinging pain on her ass cheeks from Ghost’s ruthless spanking.
“Wait, Soap. Let her get on her back.” König says gently, placing a hand on her hip as he helps her onto her back. She’s now face to face with Ghost and König. Soap places a hand on her thigh, lifting her leg onto his shoulder as slaps his heavy cock onto her clit before entering her. He grunts as he pushes into her, wasting no time in fucking her senseless. He slams into her, resulting in her yelling out as a sharp, pleasure laced moan bounced off the wall. Ghost takes König’s place at her clit as he uses a thick finger to circle her bud, slowly jerking himself in the process. He dips his head forward and lifts his balaclava, and begins working at her nipples, sucking and biting them roughly.
König sits up impatiently, his thick cock hovering over her face. He looks down at her in awe, his eyes squinted and breathing hitched in excitement. He places a hand on her bed frame as he lowers himself onto her face, the tip of his dick entering between her lips. She moans at the double use of her holes, eagerly widening her mouth. His cock only makes it a bit past halfway before she hits her limit, gagging and choking on him. He pulls out slightly, looking at her with concern in his eyes. His grip tightens on the headboard, hitting the back of her throat ever so slightly. She melted at his gentleness, but she wanted nothing more than to take all of him. Or at least try. She lifts her head, hollowing her cheeks and breathing out as she takes him as deep as she can, she can smell the musk of his pubic hair as she gets deeper than she had before. König lets out a gentle moan as she sucks him, deepthroating him and feeling the bulge of his cock protruding from her throat. She takes her hand and grabs the remainder of him, gripping his base and squeezing as she continues taking him in deep. Soap leans forward and pushes her stomach down, releasing a new feeling she’s never felt before. She felt closer to him internally, taking every single inch of him as he moans at the new feeling too.
“Fuck, lady. You’re just perfect. Look at ‘ya, taking every damn inch of me like a good little puppy.” He purrs, his Scottish accent stronger as he pumps himself in and out of her, slowly dragging each thrust out. She smiles at him, baring her teeth from around König’s cock. He starts to move his hips slightly, seemingly not wanting to hurt her or choke her to death. He smiles at her as she nods her head at him, signaling that he was good to start thrusting. He takes her silent confirmation, and starts pumping in and out of her mouth. She gags and gurgles, the lewd noises bouncing off the walls. The sound of her choking on his absolute monster cock drives her crazy, it was music to her ears. He continues fucking her mouth as she moans over the tip of his shaft, the vibrations of her voice driving König closer to the edge by the minute. Soap's thrusts begin to get sloppy, signaling that he was close to his climax. His grip on her leg tightens as it hangs over his shoulder. His muscles glisten with sweat. He grunts as his pumps get slower. She feels his cock twitch and pulse, as he lets out a string of curses and moans into her leg. He pulls out of her before he can paint her walls white with his cum, and jerks himself, aiming at her stomach. Ghost watches from her breasts as he shoots his seed onto her stomach, grunting with every pulse of his shaft. He steps back, admiring his work like a painter admires his freshly finished canvas. He breathes heavily, walking into her bathroom and emerges with a bundle of tissues. König then pulls out of her mouth slowly, letting go of her headboard with a creak. He reaches down and runs a thumb over her tear stained cheeks.
“You did so good, lass. So good for me.” He says as he wipes her stomach of his seed. König gets up and walks towards Soap as she watches them tiredly, her holes fatigued and swollen from the constant use. Ghost lifts his head from her breast, her nipples now sore and overstimulated from being sucked and bitten through it all. He gently slaps her breast, causing it to jiggle and making him chuckle lowly.
“Such perfect little mounds, lovie” he says, caressing her neck. She smiles at him, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips before he can pull his balaclava back down. He pauses for a moment and his mouth hangs agape, a smile growing on his lips before he pulls it down over his mouth.
König places himself in front of her, offering his hand. She takes it as he helps her stand. Her legs like jello, her thighs shake and falter as she holds onto his strong shoulders. “My poor little liebe, so tired and fucked out, yes?” He purrs, bringing her into an embrace. Ghost and Soap watch as he sits on the bed, crawling toward the headboard. He places his back onto the headboard and effortlessly lifts her onto his lap, spreading her legs over his knees. He slides his hands up and down her thighs, parting them while kissing her neck and nibbling at her earlobes. Her body shivered as he did this, his gentle caresses feeling like sparks on her skin after the roughness of the other two men. “I’d love to ruin you tonight, liebling. But you’ve have enough of that, hm?” He purrs. She nods her head, her brain swirling in her skull and preventing any words from leaving her. She lies her back onto his chest as he positioned his cock in front of her clit. He slides his head up and down her slit, coating him in her juices. He slaps his tick, heavy shaft against her entrance before pushing the tip in, waves of electricity flowing through her veins. She moans at the thickness of him, throwing her head back onto his chest. He kisses her forehead, grunting as he pushes himself deeper inside of her, his cock only halfway inside before he hits her tightest spot, unseen by any man. He pushes into her slowly, forcing the rest of his thickness into her walls. Tears brim her eyes as she moans and cries out, a toxic mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through her. Ghost reaches forward and slowly circles her clit, trying to keep her from clenching too much. The room was silent besides König’s hushes and sweet praises in her ear, the other two men seemingly feeling sorry for her. She had never had any man this big before, but there was a first for everything. The stimulation from Ghost fingering her clit allows König to enter into her deeper. In no time he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside her, all the way to the hilt. Soap approaches her to her right, kissing her stomach and leaving love bites all the way to her breasts. She would look like she had been through a war the next day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He begins suckling and biting at her nipples once again, flicking his tongue over the sensitive buds.
“Scheiße, du bist so eng, Liebe” he praises. She hadn't any idea what he said, but the way he spoke to her made her insane. “Hm?” She replied, the only word she had managed to squeak out since being ruthlessly fucked by the two other men. König lets out a deep chuckle at her cluelessness.
“I said you’re so tight, dear. So warm. So inviting for me.” He breathes out. He begins thrusting inside of her, slowly at first. He grunts and moans in her ear, his grip on her thighs tightening with restraint as he tries his hardest not to fuck the thoughts right out of her brain at any given moment. He begins thrusting faster, pumping himself in and out of her. She moans and cries out, going absolutely dumb on his dick as he fucks her at a steady pace. She reaches her hands behind her, running her fingers through his dirty blonde hair, it being soft in between her fingers. She lets out a string of curses as she feels her core tightening. She clenches around him, her grip tightening in his hair. He dips his head forwards as he lets out a string of German expletives and grunts, thrusting his hips up into her. He speeds up his pace, feeling as she tightens around him. His cock met with resistance as she comes close to her edge.
“Are you going to cum for me, love?” He whispers in her ear. She nods her head sporadically, unable to focus on anything but the thick, hot cock sliding in and out of her. “Mhmm. ‘M gonna cummm” she manages to squeak out. He chuckles in her hair, the gruff voice caressing her ears. “Cum for me, my sweet liebling. I want your juices all over my cock and balls, hm?”. He praises, giving her a small slap on the stomach. She rolls her hips, in sync with Ghost’s finger flicking her clit and Soap periodically nibbling at her nipples. König thrusts into her g-spot faster and harder, his own moans and cries hot on her ears. She feels the familiar tightening of her core, and warmth pooling at her clit as another spray of her juices spew out onto the bed. The mixture of her moans and his grunts make for a porn worthy scene as her squirt runs down her pussy and onto his balls. Her thighs shake with pleasure, her body now completely spent from orgasming. König chuckles as her legs shake violently. Ghost moves his hands from her clit, chuckling as he licks her juices off of his fingers.
“You’re like a sprinkler, love” Ghost chuckles, his fingers glistening with her slick. She smiles at him as he stands, his cock ready and twitching with need. He hadn’t finished fucking her in hopes that he’d be the one to breed her. But the way he saw her going stupid on König’s cock meant that he’d have to make do with her delicious mouth for now. He leans forward, grabbing her head gently by the hair and guiding her lips to his shaft. He moans as she takes him in her mouth, bobbing her head the best she can while König fucks her. He’s now drilling into her, cursing and whimpering aloud shamelessly. Ghost begins to thrust into her mouth, unapologetically starved from being cut short earlier. She relaxes her jaw muscles and allows him to fuck her face ruthlessly. She gags and chokes on him, droll dripping down her chin and onto her breasts as she bounces from König’s fucking. She moans onto his dick, riling him up more. He slides his cock deep into her throat, bottoming out until her nose is buried in his pubic hair.
“Fuckkk, lovie. I can see my cock bulging from your throat. God…damn.” He praises, his voice shaky from the fast thrusts. He pumps into her mouth at a steady pace as he grabs her throat and squeezes around his bulge smugly. He chuckles at the sight, loving the look of her bouncing on König’s dick as he uses her mouth as he pleases. “Good fucking girl. Taking my cock like the slutty puppy you are.” He says, landing a gentle smack on her cheek. He squeezes her throat again, making her gasp for air. He pulls out completely, letting her breathe before shoving himself as deep as can go again. He does this for a minute, pulling out and shoving himself back in, tiring her throat out. She was a drooling, crying mess, and he wouldn’t have her any other way. He feels the familiar tightening in his balls, his dick tensing with every thrust bringing him closer to the edge. He fucks her face a few more times before he lets himself fall. He moans loudly and lets out a powerful grunt as he paints her throat white with thick, hot ropes of cum. She feels the warmth of his seed travel down her throat, her eyes rolling back in her head as he keeps his cock down for a few seconds too long. His grip on her throat loosened, and he slowly pulled out from the walls of her windpipe, slick with her saliva and his cum. “Jesus.” He exclaims, out of breath from emptying his balls into her throat. “You’ve milked me dry, sweetheart.” He says, plopping himself onto the bed next to her. He reaches over and caresses her stomach as König continues drilling into her from underneath her.
König’s thrusts become sloppier, his cock starting to twitch inside of her. She notices his body tensing under her as he reaches his orgasm. “Scheiße, Scheiße!” He yells out. He roughly grabs her by the throat, squeezing her windpipe and causing her face to turn a deep red as she throws her head back. He buries his face in her neck, his face now a deep shade of red as he sweats and his muscles flex under her. His thrusts become slower, staying inside of her for a second longer before pushing into her again. He groans and whimpers in her ear, the gigantic killing machine of a man seemingly coming undone by the mere tightness of her pussy. “Such a sweet…tight fucking…cunt…Scheiße!” He continues, his cock twitching violently inside of her as he breeds her. She feels his hot seed filling her, slowly dripping down her walls as he pulls out of her, the tip swollen and sensitive. “God…you took me so well, my little liebe. So well.” He breathes, his breath hot on her cheek. He presses his forehead to hers, planting a soft kiss to her lips. He lingers on her mouth for a minute, catching his breath. They breathe heavily into each others mouths, eyes dancing between each others.
“So much for no favorites, aye L.t?” Soap says smugly, standing to his feet and slowly walking to his pile of clothes in front of her bed. She smiles at him, her brain still spent and thoughtless from the three cocks whose only intention was to ruin her. Ghost chuckles as he stands, grabbing his underwear and sliding them over his hips before lying back in bed next to her. König doesn’t bother getting up, and simply moves her next to him. She lied between the two giant men, her eyes fluttering closed as König and Ghost untucks the blanket from under her and placing it over her. She opens her eyes and looks over to Soap, standing at the edge of her bed in only his underwear. He crawls towards her and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll be taking your couch, lass. No space on here for poor old Soap!” He jokes, winking at her before leaving to the living room. Ghost reaches besides him and flicks the switch to the lamp besides them, engulfing the room in darkness. The only light from the yellow hued street lamps outside. König shuffles behind her, spooning her with his naked frame. He kisses her on the back of her neck, rubbing her back gently with his large hand. “Goodnight, dear. I’ve had the best time with you tonight” he says, his voice barely a whisper. She smiles as she backs up into his embrace in response to his soft praises. Ghost runs a thumb over her cheek as he lies on his back, and puts her hand in his. “Sleep well, love. You did great.” He purrs. In no time, the sweet embrace of sleep blanketed her senses.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
She wakes to an empty bed, the smell of sex still permeating the room. She checked her clock on the nightstand. 12:42 PM, it read. She’d be screwed if she had work today, but her body had taken the rest it needed from being absolutely ruined by three giant soldiers last night. She smiled to herself, wishing to herself it hadn’t been a dream. She glanced at the hickies on her body, and noticed the soreness between her legs. She sat up, scanning her room. Her eyes caught a flash of a pink gift bag on the other side of her bed. She smiled as she took the bag in her hands. She took out the contents, a red hot blush spreading to her ears. The lacy bra and panty set sat softly in her fingers. She looked in the bag and saw a card, opening it to reveal the sloppiest handwriting she’d ever seen.
Forgive me for ripping your panties and bra, dear. Enjoy. -König
She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but hell.
4K notes · View notes
ystrike1 · 5 months
Text
Betrayal of Dignity - By KIMPA (8.5/10)
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Sometimes, bad men make great Kings. This particular Duke is absolutely a yandere, but he's also after the throne. He's also one of the few obsessive male characters I can actually imagine in power. He knows how to plan ahead. He's horrible. She's a good and forthright woman. The drama is killer.
Two sisters.
The pretty pink one and the disabled one.
What do you think their relationship is like?
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You're wrong.
Chloe is disabled, yes, but she is a capable older sister. Her father, servants, and her sister all treat her with respect. Even when those who discriminate do not.
Alice is a romantic girl, with no brains in her skull. She's supposed to save her family from debt by wedding a wealthy Count....but she cheats on him. Her lover impregnates her, and they run away together...happily? Yes, Alice was never cut out for life as a noble wife. Her husband treats her well. They're passionately in love. Chloe loves her too much to force her to do anything. Their father feels the same.
The spoiled, beautiful daughter leaves the picture.
What about the debt?
There's only one child left. Chloe. She is respected in the walls of her mansion, but nowhere else.
No sane man would marry a woman with a crippled leg.
(This setting is painfully realistic. A couple hundred years ago disabled people had little to no rights. Chloe is a rare exception as a noble daughter who is loved and protected by her father.)
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Chloe has no idea, but she does have an admirer.
His name is Duke Daimien Thisse. He fell in love with her three years ago, but she has no clue. He bullied her. He called her naive. Arrogant. He ripped her cane from her hands to show her how weak she was. She naturally assumed he's just another man who dislikes disabled people.
She met the Duke when he was at war. His men camped in her forest, behind her home. She nursed some of his fghters back to health.
Naive Chloe was unaware. As she treated the men they ridiculed her, and they tossed more inappropriate comments on top. They did not deserve her help, but she gave it.
Duke Thisse stole her cane because he was frustrated. He hated watching her care for the boorish men in his army, who whispered behind her back. So, he insulted her to her face to test her true character.
Chloe was too perfect. He suspected she was acting, as an excuse to get close to him and seduce him. He does know about her monetary situation after all.
She rejects him and proves that kindness isn't a weakness. She didn’t know the men were insulting her, but it doesn’t matter to her. They were protecting her country. Her land. She felt obligated to help, as an upstanding noble lady.
Duke Thisse is smitten.
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He does get worse though. This guy is every single red flag. His fascination with Chloe stays a secret. A real one. Nobody knows he loves her. Chloe thinks he's marrying her to weaken his position on purpose, because he wants the Crown Prince to look stronger. She thinks she's a tool and she's half right. Marrying Chloe does give the Duke camouflage. He looks like a loyal dog...but he's been planning this marriage and a rebellion for three years.
Chloe won't be his Duchess.
She will be his Queen.
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Daimien is also the most jealous and vindictive man on earth. He does bully and plot against his own wife when she pays attention to other men. He's un-fucking-unbearable. He threatens to kill her and her family more than once. She thinks it's because of his honor or something but no. He just does that when she mentions another man too many times.
He even throws a hissy fit when she tries to visit her own father.
This handsome servant, Gillies, figures out how twisted the Duke is. He's purely in love with his kind lady, and the persistent hero actually succeeds in exposing the rot.
Chloe finds out how deep the corruption goes far too late.
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Duke Thisse doesn't tell Chloe anything. This mistress??? Fake. She's a royal spy and he feels nothing for her, but he uses this fake lover to torment Chloe. To test her and embarrass her. To see her pure true self once more. Chloe maintains her dignity, even when she must invite said mistress to a tea party.
Duke Thisse uses the death of this fake mistress to trick Chloe into loving him. He frames Chloe. He makes it look like she murdered the other woman out of jealousy, and then he saves her from life in jail.
That "selfless deed" earns her love.
Chloe earnestly lavishes love on the monster that has been tormenting her for years.
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Even the Crown Prince is a pawn.
Duke Thisse needs him to to die at the right time, in the right place.
The mad prince realizes that Daimien married Chloe for love, and he gets more suspicious.
His feelings mess with the plan.
The rebellion will come regardless.
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Romance begins to blossom when the Duke actually says I love you. It's not cheesy. It makes perfect sense. Chloe doesn't want money or promises. She wants to know if he saved her from a murder charge out of love.
(If only she knew)
He says yes.
It would have been so romantic if we, the readers, didn't know what was going on in his head.
By the way they don't consumate their marriage until they confirm their love. The Duke gets some points with that. He only wanted to lay with her if she felt the same way. He avoided all intimacy until that day. Now she does reciprocate....but he's been planting those feelings for almost four years.
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Their love blossoms into something beautiful.
Chloe is pregnant and they all live happily...
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The Crown Prince is a mentally deranged maniac. The people are turning against him.
The Duke wants more than love.
He wants to protect the nation he fought for in war.
He wants power. He wants to be King, and he has chosen a Queen.
Side note he only wants Chloe to have one baby, because he's familiar with the dangers of childbirth. I'll give him points for that one...again. He sucks but he's not the worst husband to have.
They don't live happily ever after.
Duke Thisse has more goals to strive for beyond happiness, and that's awesome. He's not a nice man, but he's obsessive and he's not bland. He's not boring on screen. That's for sure.
Chloe is an extremely cool woman, without superpowers. There is no secret ingredient. She's just a hard worker. One of her legs doesn't freaking work, and she's still more imposing than most.
Lots of people hate this one.
I think they need to read the fine print. Maybe one or two more times. On the surface this is a tale of abuse and manipulation...but remember there's no magic. Chloe never wanted to marry for love. She has no lover waiting for her.
Being the wife of a Duke isn't supposed to be easy. It's extra hard if he's ambitious.
That's conveyed very well.
407 notes · View notes
thetrinketbox · 10 months
Text
Drunk again off another crush (Kensei x Reader)
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I wrote this for Kensei’s birthday and because he looks so hot in the new anime episodes. My man needs more fics about him! Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49015216 "Congratulations!" "Yeah, who'd've thought an idiot like you would figure out bankai?" "Three cheers for lieutenant Hisagi!" The boisterous cheering filled the bar, a crowd of shinigami clustered together like a flock of crows in their black uniforms. They clinked their glasses together for the umpteenth time that night, Hisagi grinning like a schoolboy. "Thanks, guys!" he said, his cheeks somewhat redder than usual and his hair all mussed up from Ikkaku and Renji constantly ruffling it, like you would to a puppy. From your little corner of the bar, you watched all this going on, trying to look happy about it even as your mood sank lower and lower as the noise and celebrating grew louder. It seemed churlish to feel left out. This was Hisagi's moment, not yours, a celebration of a milestone that not many shinigami ever achieve. You were happy for him; you knew how hard he'd been working to master it and improve his relationship with Kazeshini. When you'd first heard that he'd finally done it, there had been no doubt in your mind that he'd always had what it took. But although you'd helped to arrange this little celebration, even hanging up some of the decorations with some people from Ninth (you weren't even part of Hisagi's division), and though he'd thanked you when you congratulated him and even given you a quick hug that made you feel all tingly, that was about all that had been said. His friends had arrived, first Kira, Renji and Kira and then later Ikkaku, Yumichika, Iba and Rangiku and he'd been swept up in a little bubble comprised of lieutenants (or near enough, in Ikkaku and Yumichika's cases) and suddenly it was like you didn't exist anymore. Like you said, it seemed childish to complain that Hisagi wasn't paying attention to you. You understood he'd obviously mostly want to spend time with his closest friends, the ones who had fought alongside him the longest and seen him in action the most. Seeing their happiness at his success truly was an amazing thing.
But...was it unreasonable you felt left out? Envious? Wishing you could even come close to having companions that cared so much about you? You didn't think it was, so you'd turned to the nearest available source of comfort - alcohol. You were several drinks in now and even though you'd tried to look like you were enjoying yourself, you could feel yourself growing more and more distressed and isolated, sitting nursing a drink you'd stopped actually drinking a while ago, which had turned unpleasantly watery now that the ice cubes had melted, and you weren't drunk enough for that not to matter to you. You pushed it aside in faint disgust, but now you didn't even have the excuse of not wanting to spill your drink - now you were just sitting here feeling abandoned and stupid. As Kira poured Hisagi another drink, you caught something flicker in your peripheral vision and turned your head to see a captain's robe, a stark contrast to all the black uniforms. Shit, when had Muguruma gotten here? Or wait, he'd been here before, hadn't he? That's right - Mashiro had gotten her hands on a whole bottle of vodka and mistaken it for something much milder. She'd chugged damn near the whole bottle and passed out, and Kensei had been forced to take her to Fourth Division before she did anything else stupid - apparently she had a nasty habit of abruptly thrashing awake and kicking, and Kensei was one of the only people strong enough to keep her steady and not be winded by her famous legs, so he'd vanished for a good chunk of the evening. You couldn't help but wonder if he'd purposefully taken longer than he needed to, so he didn't have to listen to the racket of his subordinate and other lieutenants getting wasted - Kensei was the only person who looked like he wanted to be here less than you did, and the thought was oddly cheering. Misery loves company, and all that. A vague ghost of a smile flickered at your lips, but it died again like a blinking lightbulb. You admittedly didn't know Kensei all that well, except that Hisagi had been fanboying constantly since the official announcement that the three former captains had agreed to return to their old posts. Time had passed since then, but Hisagi still seemed rather starstruck by Kensei, which was just as well - you'd heard he was a hardass, and if you were being totally honest, he kind of scared you a bit. He was no Zaraki or Kurostsuchi, but something about his size, intimidating aura and I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude was simultaneously scary and a little alluring. You could feel where he was from anywhere in Ninth - his reaitsu was powerful and tinged with an unusual aura, probably thanks to the Hollow that lived inside him. You wondered if Kensei was like that all the time or if he relaxed a little more in his downtime. You were certain you'd never seen him smile. As if he could sense your gaze on him, Kensei suddenly looked in your direction, a scowl on his face. You quickly ducked your head to avoid his gaze, cheeks burning.
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It was time to go home, you decided. There was no point sitting here moping because senpai wouldn't notice you anymore. You knew how your moods were only amplified when you drank, and you couldn't see the night improving from here. You were stuck in a tar pit of self-loathing of your own making, and besides which, though you were friendly with one or two of the lieutenants, approaching all of them was kind of intimidating. They understood each other in a way other seated members didn't, working so closely with their captains and yet not quite being on their level. It was a weird limbo to be in, for sure. Slowly you got up from the table, and immediately nearly fell to your knees as you stood up. Fuck. The booze always hit harder this way, and it took a lot of concentration for you to skirt around the crowd of people towards the exit, weaving back and forth as you walked. Before you reached that glorious, blinding white rectangle of an exit, a hand suddenly grasped your elbow. "Where are you going?" a voice demanded. You turned around and your stomach did some kind of somersault as you found yourself staring dizzily up at Kensei himself. He was scowling down at you, as per usual, but he didn't seem particularly angry per se - he had a very severe resting bitch face, so it seemed. "Sorry?" you said, which was at least slightly better than "Whu?" which was what you'd been about to say. When you realised, he thought you'd gotten confused on your way to the bar/bathroom, you gave a little shake of your head. "Oh, I'm just - I thought I should go home." Behind Kensei came another raucous round of cheering and a facial muscle of Kensei's twitched. Clearly the celebrations were grating on his nerves as well - however fond of Hisagi he was, he was not the partying sort of guy. You didn't know Kensei that well, but you knew enough about him to know that every sound of glasses or bottles clinking and sloshing beer on the ground was no doubt grating terribly. "You're in no fit state to walk home by yourself." Kensei pronounced, but before you could get indignant over this, he sighed. "I'll walk you back to your quarters." What?! "Oh, um, that's kind of you, sir, but it's really not-" you demurred - the thought of walking home with Kensei Muguruma at your side was an alarming one. "It's not up for negotiation." Kensei overrode you bluntly, so much so that you found yourself unable to muster a second stab at refusing. His hand went to your shoulder, and he began steering you towards the door. "Come on. From here on, it's their problem if one of them passes out in a puddle of vomit." You paused and made a face at the idea. "Yessir." ~ You were right - walking with Kensei Muguruma was an intense experience. Granted, it wasn't like he was shouting at you for drinking or asking you tricky questions. Instead, he was surprisingly quiet, keeping an eye on your ungraceful gait out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise he seemed content to walk through the winding streets of the Seireitei - you'd told him where you lived, and it wasn't so far away that either of you felt the need to whip out Shunpo. Anyway, as Kensei had pointed out, the fresh air would help sober you up some. Despite that, though, the silence had a tinge of awkwardness to it. Kensei was doing you a favour, but you got the sense he was regretting having offered. Your mind was in a whirl of confusion and alcohol, and you wanted to find something to say to make the journey feel a little less of a daunting voyage. Kensei's reiatsu washed over you like a heavy wind that hints at a thunderstorm - occasionally your arm would brush his haori and the hairs stood up on your skin when it broke out in goosebumps. Kensei didn't seem to notice. "Why were you sitting by yourself?" he suddenly asked - not looking at you but keeping his eyes straight ahead. You're taken aback by the question and your answer is vague. "Oh, well...I'd said my congrats to Hisagi, so I didn't want to get in the way while he was with his friends. His other friends." you said, lamely. "It felt rude to just leave in the middle of his celebration." "Tch. His friends are spoiling him. Most people don't get a fucking parade thrown for them for achieving a bankai." Kensei muttered, and you shot a surprised glance at him. But though his words were dismissive, his facial expression wasn't disgusted or scornful. Perhaps grumbling was Kensei's idea of speaking fondly of someone. "Why did you come, then?" you asked, seized with a sudden boldness - perhaps Kensei's candidness was infectious. "You don't seem like a... party type of guy, sir." "I'm not," Kensei said, waving a hand impatiently. "But I don't begrudge the kid. I worked him hard, and he gave me the results I was hoping for. That deserves recognition." Huh. You gave a hum of agreement and turned your attention back to the path in front of you. It seemed Kensei was right - you did feel a little more sober. Walking no longer felt like a tricky task that required all conversation, though you didn't regret your decision to leave. You doubted anybody had noticed you were gone. "So that was the only reason?" Kensei pressed, startling you. "You were just too scared to talk to him around his lieutenant friends? Or were you hoping something was gonna happen?" You nearly choked on your own saliva at the blunt phrasing. Kensei really didn't pay much attention to social niceties, did he? You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You'd never examined your feelings regarding Hisagi Shuuhei in detail - you knew he liked Rangiku. Kensei knew he liked Rangiku. Everyone and their mums probably knew it. So having feelings for Hisagi had never really crossed your mind, because they were doomed before they'd even had a chance to take root. But explaining all this to Kensei made you uncomfortable, so instead you simply said: "We're just friends." "Really." Kensei drawled, and was it your imagination, or was he messing with you? It was hard to tell with his deadpan manner of speaking. "Yes, really." you said, a little huffily. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather not discuss it further." "Tch." You both fell silent again, and you could feel heat creeping up your cheeks. It occurred to you that perhaps Kensei had had some alcohol to loosen his tongue a bit himself, it was just nowhere near as obvious with him since he was so big and beefy - it would probably take enough alcohol to knock over a horse before he started to show ill effects. Though you didn't know who in their right mind would give alcohol to a horse. You knew where you were now, and you glanced at Kensei. "I can take it from here if you have somewhere to be." you said, then added belatedly. "Sir." "I don't." Kensei replied, and you snorted. "Why do you care about where I'm going or what I'm doing, anyway?" you suddenly asked him, feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something. "Thought you didn't want to talk about that anymore," Kensei said. "I'm not, I'm talking about you." you replied, bouncing onto the balls of your feet like that might help you reach Kensei better. He scoffed and glanced away, and you took a moment to admit his side profile, that firm jaw and the shape of his nose. The impressive fluff of his mohawk and were those piercings you spied in his ear? Hot. "Just noticed you around, is all." Kensei said, his throat bobbing when he covertly swallowed. "When you come by Ninth." Oh? "Oh?" you asked faintly. Kensei had noticed you? But why? There was nothing special about you and he was a captain, and a Vizard, to boot. Everyone was curious about them, even if the topic of the reason the reinstated Captains had been forced to leave was often skirted around. Was it possible you were hallucinating this and were still at that table, passed out drunk? Now Kensei turned to face you and you weren't able to pull your eyes away from him in time - specifically his bared chest, his firm abdominal muscles and that famous 69 tattoo emblazoned across his skin, the ink still bold and clear even after over a century. He caught you looking, but he didn't seem to mind it. "Yeah," he said, and his eyes slid to your lips, where a faint shimmer of lipstick still sat from when you'd gotten ready hours earlier. It was like it was choreographed. A beat of silence ticked between you, an internal debate that lasted both a moment and a lifetime. Then, before you had time to doubt, to convince yourself it was all in your head, Kensei moved, surprisingly quick for a man his size. You had no time to process before a large, gloved hand curved around the back of your neck and you were being pulled in for a hot, demanding kiss that left you breathless. You could faintly taste rum on his lips, and your back met the wall, Kensei's body shielding you from prying eyes. Your hands moved immediately to comb through his mohawk as he kissed you, and Kensei growled in response, his teeth pinching your bottom lip, enough to make you squeak. His hands roved up and down your body, one of them settling on your waist where you'd donned a brand-new sash for the occasion, his touch hot and firm and making you shiver deliciously. His reiatsu covered you, but this time you relished the staticky feeling of it, the tingling zipping across your skin. Fuck. you thought. No words were exchanged during all this. You'd both passed the need for them - your bodies did the talking plenty. When Kensei finally released you, straightening up to his full height again, you were amused to notice he had a smear of sparkly lipgloss collected on his bottom lip. You felt out of breath. "That was..." you said and broke off with a huff of breathless laughter. "Yeah," Kensei agreed, running a hand through his mohawk in a surprisingly self-conscious gesture that, at present, seemed like the most endearing thing ever. His eyes went back to your lips, but he didn't move to kiss you again. You understood - when you pushed yourself off the wall, the world wobbled a bit before righting itself. Sobering walk or no, you were still on the drunken side. You smiled awkwardly at Kensei, though pleasure squirmed in your stomach when he offered you a very slight one back. He reached out and his thumb brushed just underneath your bottom lip, wiping away some smudged gloss. You stood stock still while he did this, mesmerised by this simple movement. "Should I...?" you said, but you weren't sure how to finish that sentence. Kensei's smile turned into a smirk. "You're going to go home and sober up." he told you. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day." You licked your lips. "And after that?" you dared to ask. Kensei's smirk widened a bit, and his hand rumpled your hair. The next thing he said made your stomach clench and heat rush to your face. "And then you'll come by Ninth and we'll see if we can't find another reason to start celebrating."
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le-trash-prince · 8 months
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Ray fans look away because I’ve got to vent a little.
One thing that particularly rubbed me the wrong way in regards to Ray using Sand as a surrogate caretaker was the comment about the nurse because it shows that Ray is not as helpless as he makes himself seem—he just wants to be spoiled.
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And this is coming from personal bitter experience of having wealthy friends use me for both physical and emotional labor :| I had a friend tell me that she didn’t need to bother getting therapy because I could just repeat everything my own therapist was saying (even though she would then argue with every statement because she didn’t actually want to get better lmfao). I had a friend whose parents were Multiple Houses Rich tell me that therapy was “too expensive” as an excuse for constantly trauma dumping on friends—and then later that year drop 25k in cash on a car lmfao AHDJFJD JUST TO PUT IN PERSPECTIVE THE PERSONAL SALT I HAVE. I hate seeing rich ppl take advantage of someone less wealthy just so they can get something for free.
Because Ray has the audacity here to act like he’s helpless and uncared for, even though he has the money to meet his own damn needs! And Sand is rightfully commenting on it, just as he did earlier when he told Ray to save his money for a shrink.
Because yes, therapy is expensive. Rehab is expensive. Not everyone has access to those things, but Ray does! But instead he demands that Sand be the one to put in the work to make Ray feel better about himself.
Things like that can make a person feel really devalued. You feel obligated to help a friend because you want them to feel cared for, but when they manufacture these situations in order to demand labor from you, it makes you feel like they don’t care about the reason you’re doing this. No matter how much you bend over backwards to make sure that they’re okay, that they’re healthy—they don’t respect that effort by trying to take care of themselves. All they care about is getting attention.
And when it comes from a rich person, it’s like, what the fuck man? Why do you feel so entitled? You think your life is so stressful? You’re going to say that your life is stressful when Sand is working multiple hustles in order to pay off his family debts and get through school? Sand needs a roommate in order to be able to afford his apartment, meanwhile Ray is benefitting off of his dad’s second home. Ray can afford to have a nurse take care of him, but instead he asks Sand to take time away from making money that he needs.
Ray has never had to deal with the stress of paying for rent or food or dealing with debt collectors banging on his door. The only stress in his life is that people want him to care about himself! It really bugs me when rich ppl act like their needs are the only ones that matter 😠
The only thing standing between Ray and sobriety is Ray himself. And I’m not saying this to devalue how difficult it is to climb out of that pit, because I have fought depression myself for many years. But the barrier for a poor addict to reach sobriety is so much higher and the judgment they face for not being able to afford help is so much worse.
And I can’t believe Ray had the audacity to complain about his dad wanting him to get rehab. Like, this kid would prob be set up in the nicest rehab center in the country, going on nature walks and doing pottery, but he acts like it’s a sign that his dad doesn’t give a shit.
I’m not going to pretend like his dad is a great parent, but I’ll be honest—I’ve seen worse from people with alcoholic kids. I’ve seen people refuse to visit their kids in the ER when they’re at deaths door because it would be too much of a blemish on their reputation to acknowledge they’ve got an alcoholic kid—so I was honestly surprised Ray’s dad even showed up. The way his dad acted wasn’t great, but wanting his kid to get better is above the bare minimum of wanting his kid to disappear. 🤷‍♂️
I’ll also say this, but people who love Ray wanting to see him love himself is not a bad thing. No, it’s not easy to love yourself, it takes a lot of fucking work, but that doesn’t mean you should just avoid the work and push it off onto other people. He has people in his life who see enough value in him that they want him to feel the same way. And this episode has shown that no matter how much work someone else puts into loving and supporting a broken person, it will never make a difference until that person learns to love themselves.
Anyways I’m glad that the Poor Boy shirt returned to Sand this episode because I am done with feeling sorry for the rich boy. I don’t think this show is brushing over the class difference between Ray and Sand—it’s just Ray and Sand who have been trying to ignore it.
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vividsekai · 2 years
Text
them with a stressed s/o who got sick
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— [🌸] character/s. kiritani haruka, shiraishi an, asahina mafuyu
contents. FLUFFFY FLUFF HEADCANONS!!! + scenario. bit of angst in mafuyu's part
info. reader attends miyajo in haruka and mafuyu's scenarios but their gender is left ambiguous. word count: 488 (hrk), 423 (an), 533 (mfy)
authors note sorry for dying for like a week... school has been fucking with me so i made these out of indulgence hehe (also mfy might be ooc im sorry im still trying to get a grasp on how to write her) (ALSO ALSO THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME TRYING TO LIKE..... ADD ACTUAL SCENARIOS INTO THE HCS SO IM SORRY IF ANYTHING LOOKS OFF)
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worrywart. haruka will notice immediately how you almost stumbled on your feet while the both of you were walking to school together and how you were acting kinda,, out of it?
once you guys are by your seats and she sees you acting more dazed, she'll go up to you and place the back of her palm on your forehead only to see that her intuition was correct.
“[name]? your temperature's rising.. do you want me to bring you to the nurse??”
hence here we are. 7 in the morning. right after the first bell rang. in the nurses office. you're feeling the worst you've ever felt but its bearable because haruka's here by your side
although dont expect her to not scold you for neglecting your health!!! you arent slick in changing the topic yk....../lh
she'll have to go back to attend class but she'll come back once lunch break starts!
leaving a glass of water and the medicine the nurse gave her on the table by your side, haruka looks over her shoulder only to see your scrunched up face staring right back at her. she almost let out a chuckle seeing how you were pouting while huddling under the covers. sighing, she says “sorry, i cant stay here for too long since i still have to go back to class. dont worry though, ill make sure to write down some notes for you! just message me if you need anything, [name]. ill come back later with some food <3”
and yup, she keeps her end of the promise and brings you a homemade bento!!! yes, one that she made for you beforehand. you have no idea how she'd know that you would forget to bring your lunch but you try to not think about it too much LMAO
while the both of you are eating together, expect the other mmj members to drop by! haruka told them that you felt unwell so minori immediately sprints to the nurses office (while also completely losing her sense of direction) with airi trying to stop her from startling you while shizuku and haruka are standing like 🧍🧍 ???? (its okay tho bc minori hands you some snacks as an apology while you're there waving your hands frantically trying to tell her to not worry that much)
overall, haruka will try her best to nurse you back to feeling good!!! she suggests the both of you to visit one of her favorite cafes (the penguin one) so that the both of you could study for tests together and also just wind down for awhile.
once classes are over and you're feeling much better, she'll walk you home and give you a little smooch on the cheek,
“next time, tell me if you're not feeling well okay? the weather's been bad lately, so make sure to warm up. love you!”
and then cue her speed walking away all flustered KSJDJSJSJ
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just like haruka, an would notice it immediately. she might be chatting your ear off talking about vbs and how her day was going, but don't think that shes not paying attention to you!! nothing can be hidden from her
after a long, tiring week of back-to-back exams, you just wanted to stay in the comfort of your covers all day. you've been staying up late reviewing your notes for the past couple of weeks since you really needed to ace these tests. adding to that, you had to help your significant other with studying aswell, considering how much she was struggling with understanding some of the lessons. though it wasn't that difficult since the rest of vbs were there to help (excluding akito someone save that man), all the pent up stress from school and your other worries ended up with you overworking yourself. which ended up getting you sick.
you didnt think it was that much of a big deal, telling yourself its gonna go away soon enough, so you just sucked it up and continued on with the week
here comes an shiraishi, your lover, asking you out on a date to celebrate your guys' hard work for making it through the exam! you accepted of course, happy that you get to spend time with her again especially with how busy the both of you were
while the original plan was to go outside and visit all the shops around vivid street, when she realized that you had a fever, she threw that plan out and insisted on just staying inside
let her take care of u!!!! she isnt going to take no for an answer. expect her to be clinging on you for a little while
since it was early in the morning, your parents already left for work so she's gonna take matters into her own hands and make you some food
“[name]~ do you know where the vegetables are stored? im going to make some soup, get a movie on!! i hope you dont mind me borrowing the kitchen for awhile~”
she's really sweet!! she understands how much the stress has been affecting you, so she'll definitely try to find ways to get your mind off of them, even if its for a little while
(bonus, but remember how i said that she would be clinging onto you? yeah, you might have to be the one to nurse her back to good health for the next couple of days. but thats fine!! anything for ur beloved gf)
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oh she knows. she noticed before you even realized that something was off. but she doesnt know how to approach you about it
should she be upfront about it? should she wait until you notice? what?????????
it doesn't take that long for her to make a choice though
checking her surroundings to make sure no ones there, mafuyu walks up to you, tugging on your sleeves to catch your attention. “[name]. slow down for a bit. dont...overdo anything.”
“..?”
the confused look on your face made her explain that she noticed that you looked tired lately, and with all of the upcoming tests, she assumed that you felt stressed about school
disgruntled by the sudden confrontation, you end up venting to her about the amount of stress your parents have been putting onto you, plus with all of the other thing you've been struggling with
while mafuyu might not know how to give out the best advice, she'll listen to you. she knows the feeling of being pressured into accepting something unwillingly, so she's going to try and be there for you, even if it might not seem like it. SHES TRYING HER BEST OKAY THATS ALL THAT MATTERS
with this, she would convince you to stay at home for the next few days until you feel better. she wont be able to spend as much time with you (bc her mom is- [TRAIN PASSES BY] ), so for the rest of the day she'll try to stick by your side until you guys have to go home!
past noon, the scarlet-ish sky indicating that the suns going to be down soon. the bell already rang awhile ago, but mafuyu got called over to finish some stuff troubling the committee she's in. she told you to go ahead since it would take her awhile to be done, but you ended up waiting for her anyways. though that might've not been the best idea.. here you are hunched up on the bench, temperature rising with a really bad headache hitting you at the worst time ever. “i should've stayed at home today...”
god heard your prayers and thought "okay i guess thats enough suffering" and boom mafuyu comes out of the room finished with whatever she was doing
turning your head, you see your lover blankly staring at you. a few seconds pass. then that turns to a minute, both of you having a staring contest. eventually, its broken by her asking you why you're all hunched up and you mumble out a response, “nothing.... im just having a headache but it's nothing too bad.” cue her getting some kind of cold-compress for you (out of nowhere???????) and her suggesting to walk you home
the walk there was quiet, but it wasnt awkward. if anything, it was the opposite. you felt at peace and happy at the fact that you got to spend time with her. also, its not like you didnt notice how she discreetly took your hand in hers. not at all hehe
anyways, 10/10!!!!! while it's unlikely, she might try to visit you once her mom's attention is onto something else, but even if shes not there to b with you physically she'll talk to you over the phone while shes coming up with lyrics for the next niigo song :]
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jasonbehrs · 10 months
Text
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🍬 corollary 🍬
by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)
If you lose your food-obsessed fiance in a crowd, here’s how to find her in three tries or less.
fandom: incurable case of love, koi wa tsuzuku yo doko made mo characters: sakura nanase, tendo kairi ship: sakurendo genres: romance themes: introspective, character study, tendo focus, post-canon word count: 3.3k+ book: 2/2 rating: T
read it on ffnet, aff, wattpad, ao3, or below!
~~~
A/N (7.26.2023): "Another Sakura-Nanase-loves-food fanfic from airauralintensity? What gives?" Listen, there are so many plot points in the show that are driven by Nanase's love of food. More fan content needs to acknowledge that if she had to choose between a falling patient and a falling plate… well, she would still choose the patient, but she would hesitate.
If you happen to be reading this fresh off of finishing the show, I'm ignoring the timeline of Episode 10. This fic is set after she returns but before they're married, which isn't a very long time period according to canon.
This isn't a sequel to 'a delicious conspiracy of love' in the consequential narrative sense, but they're still heavily related, so I encourage you to read that one first. I named this fic 'corollary' not just because it suits the plot but because this fic builds off of themes from the first one.
~~~
Sometimes, Kairi still needs to offer Nanase a hand.
He doesn't just mean pulling her to the side so that she doesn't accidentally run into a tourist because she's too busy window shopping to pay attention to her surroundings (though that does happen with an alarming frequency), but he also means literally.
In the times when she is too conscious of him, she won't hold his hand herself.
Despite the many professional advantages her year of community nursing abroad has brought, one of the personal disadvantages was that it also sort of reset their relationship, at least where Nanase was concerned. She didn't break off their engagement or anything, but there is a certain composure present where there was none previously.
They kept in regular contact during their time apart, which did a lot to ease the longing and keep their relationship feeling like a relationship, but he supposes a year's worth of conversational intimacy doesn't immediately nor necessarily translate into physical intimacy, even one as simple as this.
She has never been shy around him—as her blatant overtures for his affection back when she really was just a rock in his way made abundantly clear—but they were the actions of a woman on a mission. All years considered, she has spent more time pining for him than actually having him, and the relationship habits they were building before she left didn't have time to truly settle in.
All this to say: when she returned, she still treated him like he wasn't completely and irrevocably hers.
Kairi has enjoyed reminding her (oh, has he enjoyed reminding her), but now he thinks he needs to work harder.
He will. Once he finds her.
The Sumida Park Farmers' Market isn't that new, but it's new to them. It started up while Nanase was gone, and Kairi didn't have a reason to visit until she came back. It's also in the half of the park that isn't on their side of the river, so neither of them were that familiar with its layout even without the influx of people and vehicles and vendors.
Unfortunately, these are not as good excuses as he wants them to be. He ends up losing her in any given crowd nine times out of ten. She's always bouncing back and forth, admiring the wares and sampling the goods and talking to anyone who makes eye contact with her like the extrovert she is—which wouldn't be such a problem if only she would hold his goddamn hand.
But like he intimated, this happens pretty often; and he wouldn't be the man he is today if he didn't learn from his mistakes the first time. When a quick 360 doesn't immediately reveal his favourite smile or the sound of excessive cooing over someone's baby, he doesn't panic. He just closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing.
More specifically, the scents he's breathing.
If you lose your food-obsessed fiance in a crowd, here's how to find her in three tries or less: identify the smell of cooking then follow your nose to the closest food stall. It hasn't steered him wrong to date.
Nanase is always so surprised to be found, mostly because she's always surprised that she's lost in the first place. "How did Sensei know how to find me?" she would ask. He never tells, though, instead affecting a burdened air and moving forward with their date, lest he accidentally sully the sanctity of his trick.
The scent of friend dough catches Kairi's attention first. He follows the lead to a baby castella stall. There is no sign of his fiance, but he does buy a basket for her and dusts it with powdered sugar.
Repeating the process brings to his attention a smell that reminds him of the sea on a hot summer day. The takoyaki stall he comes upon also has no Nanase, but he buys a half-dozen anyway and prepares it the way she likes: topped liberally with pickled ginger and accompanied by a dollop of mayonnaise on the side.
Finally, he smells fried vegetables with an undercurrent of something sweet. It takes him to a crepe stall, and he's finally run out of hands and composure. Nanase is still nowhere to be seen.
He stands in the middle of the path and forces the flow of people to go around him as he furiously thinks of what to do now. This strategy has never failed him before. Besides, what good are two handfuls of warm food when there isn't a fiance with a never-ending appetite around to eat them?
Kairi spins in a circle, looking for a place to sit and set down his prandial burdens but mostly hoping that Nanase would still appear and validate his methodology. He needs to be right about this.
It was his job to be right about things like this.
.
An enthusiastic "Tendo-sensei!" was the first thing Kairi heard when he answered the phone.
Nanase picked a good time to call. He had already eaten breakfast, and it's easier to talk when he isn't concentrating on not overcooking his food.
They realised pretty early on that her night shift ended just in time for his day shift to begin. This sweet spot when she's getting ready for bed and he's getting ready to go became the obvious choice for any video calls. They couldn't call every day; but when they could, it happened around now.
He chuckled as he set the phone on a stand he bought for this specific purpose. "You can start calling me Kairi, you know. Isn't it weird to call your fiance by his last name and an honourific? I'm not even your attending physician anymore."
"You still call me Sakura sometimes!" By the echo, he could tell she was in her bathroom too, and something about being in a similar place at the same time made the distance feel smaller.
"But I call you Nanase the other times."
"Awww." The pitying sound made him glance over from the mirror to see a cute little pout on his fiance's face. "I miss the sound of my name."
He leaned in closer so she could see his incredulity. "What do they call you over there if not by your name?"
"No, no! They do call me Nanase. It's just, with the accent, it sounds more like… Nan-ase? I don't know. I feel bad saying this because it's not like I get all their names right all the time either, but…"
"Nanase."
"Hm?"
He turned away from the camera to reach for a towel with the added benefit of hiding his smile. He didn't say her name to get her attention, but he could pivot. Flexibility was a strength of his. "Not too tired from the night shift?"
"Not too tired to talk to Sensei~ Besides, I had coffee in the second half of my shift. I'll be good until after the call ends!"
He stopped what he was doing and looked back at her. "Since when did you start drinking coffee?" He worked alongside her for over four months and never even saw her drinking matcha.
"It's recent! It actually surprised my coworkers that I wasn't drinking any. Besides the long shifts, Berlin has a huge coffee culture. I wanted to fit in, so I started ordering some from the cafes that my coworkers recommended in town. I like it! I think. There's a lot of variety, at least. They even have matcha over here!"
Kairi let her elaborate on her journey of discovering coffee and tried not to overthink. Sakura Nanase, more energetic than a fully-charged battery and sweeter than Japan's finest wagashi, was not the sort of person he associated with coffee. It wasn't something he thought she'd enjoy.
It's not that he was against her drinking coffee. It's not about the coffee at all. It's the fact that there could be things about her that he couldn't predict. Considering he fell in love with her for her transparency, the discovery unnerved him.
Kairi was a man who prided himself on accurate deductions. From the moment he received a patient's echocardiogram, he could map out their entire recovery journey in his mind's eye. Of course, when the facts changed, he changed his mind; but anticipating and addressing viable changes in condition were the cornerstones of his entire career, and he was only capable of such astute assessments because he was an expert on cardiology. He didn't become one of the most successful heart surgeons in the country by wasting mental or temporal resources on understanding things that didn't matter to him. Heart health mattered to him.
Sakura Nanase also mattered to him.
He knew exactly how much rain it took to dissuade her from her outdoor plans. He knew the earliest she could wake up given her bedtime the night before. He could narrow down to the minute the point at which she needs a snack to boost her blood sugar.
Nanase wasn't predictable, necessarily, but humans were creatures of habit; and he observed and studied hers to the point of expertise.
If he wasn't an expert on the things he loved, what was he?
This was why he wasn't nearly as worried about her study abroad as she was. The distance was immaterial. Whether she was right next to him or on the opposite side of the world, he remained the foremost, citable, preeminent authority on all things Sakura Nanase.
"Does this mean I'll have to start sharing my coffee supply with you when you come back?"
"Maybe!" She giggled. "I like sharing things with you."
But mastery wasn't a checkpoint. It was a lifelong endeavour, and his chosen field of expertise had a similarly lifelong intention to keep growing, evolving, maturing. He reminded himself that this was actually exciting, and he was actually lucky. He got to witness those changes in real time; he got to remain the expert.
Especially in circumstances like these, he needed that assurance. Their time apart wouldn't matter because when she came back to him, she wouldn't be a stranger.
"I'm running a little behind, but do me a favour before I go?"
He directed his full attention to the phone, as he always did for the last few minutes of their calls. She shuffled closer so that her whole face took up his screen, and he refrained from mentioning that he took a screenshot of it. "You name it!"
"What's the name of your hospital, again? I forgot."
The sight of her fond eye roll did more to wake him up than his own cup of coffee did. "You didn't forget, Sensei. You just like to hear me butcher German."
He shrugged. "I forgot how much I like hearing you butcher German."
"Fine, fine. I'll say it so you won't be late." She cleared her throat. "Ge-ma-i-n-sha-fu-su-ka-n-ke-n-ha-u-su Ha-fu-hu-u."
"Oh, that's why it's so small? It's half of a real hospital?"
"One day, that joke will stop being funny," but the smile on her face said otherwise.
.
"Kairi! There you are, I've been looking all over for you."
He whirls around, barely keeping the food in their containers as he does. "What. No, you weren't. I was looking for you."
Nanase tilts her head. "Couldn't we have been looking for each other, then?"
He doesn't have an answer for that, still hung up on how his three-tries-or-less strategy failed him. "Where were you?" he asks instead.
"Oh! Here, have some." She opens her mouth, encourages him to mimic her, then plops something smooth and sweet onto his tongue. "Isn't it so good?"
Hard candy. She was buying hard candy. Hard candy does not emit an odour.
He doesn't know if he's annoyed that his strategy doesn't account for things like this or pleased that it still has merit under most but specific parameters.
"I saw a family back there holding a bag of something colourful," she continues, "so I asked them where they got it."
He follows her pointed finger to find that the hard candy vendor is literally right behind the castella stand, which is only a few stalls down from when he noticed he lost her.
He makes up his mind: he's definitely annoyed.
"Can I have some?" she asks about the food he forgot he is holding.
He offers both of his hands to her, looking down at the food both literally and figuratively. "They're for you," he grumbles.
Her eyes light up at the prospect of eating, and it says something that that alone isn't enough to lift his mood.
She points out a seating area with picnic tables a little ways away from where they're standing—which Kairi probably would have seen sooner if he were actually looking for those instead of blatantly focused on looking for Nanase instead—and he follows her lead. There appear to be no places for them to sit together, but a pointed glare at a pair of teenagers who are done eating rectifies that problem very quickly.
"Ah! I love pickled ginger with my takoyaki!" she effuses once they're seated side by side.
He waits until she takes her first bite—"It's the perfect temperature, too!"—before he brings up his concern: "Nanase, you need to hold my hand more often when we're in public."
"Really?"
"Yes…?" He meant to say that definitively, but the absolute delight and obvious relief on her face puzzle him. "That isn't a problem?"
"Not for me! I thought it would be for Sensei, though."
He ignores the reversion to an honourific. "What possibly gave you that idea?"
She does a quick, breezy shrug, more focused on preparing the next takoyaki ball for her consumption. "I didn't think you were happy to hold my hand when we're in public. You always looked burdened. I thought, 'Ah, he doesn't like it,' so I stopped," she explains casually, like she didn't just shatter his entire perception of their relationship in the ten seconds it took her to say that.
He, unfortunately, knows exactly what she's talking about; but the burden is fake!
Moreover: "That never stopped you before," he accuses. If there's one thing he understands about Sakura Nanase, it's that she chases after the things she wants without abandon or shame, even in the times when it would behoove her to exhibit more abandon or shame.
"Yeah, but I was pretty single-minded before, wasn't I?" she says plainly. This self-reflection is evidently not new to her. Where was he when she decided these things about herself? "I did and said so many things just because I wanted you to keep looking at me, even if it was in annoyance… which it usually was. You didn't like it even back then."
Sure, but that was back then.
"I was able to calm down in Germany, though," she reminisces. "Not getting to see you every day made me treasure the times I do have your attention, so it became easier to respect your boundaries."
"I don't have those!" he blurts out.
"Eh?"
He doesn't even know where to start. He was so misunderstood. He misunderstood so much. He's spiralling.
"I love it when you hold my hand. I love holding your hand. Hold my hand all the time."
"O-okay," she agrees with wide-eyes and an offered palm, thinking the directive started now.
He stares at her waiting hand, suddenly feeling like he doesn't deserve to hold it, but ultimately grasps it like a desperate man.
He is pretty desperate. He's spiralling, but her touch is a tether. "You're not a burden. You haven't been for a while, and I thought you knew that."
Her smile is brilliant. "Yeah, I worked hard to become an asset in the ward—"
"—With me, too," he interrupts. "It's an act; it always has been. I can't be straightforward about my affection; it feels weird. I'd rather be subtle about it,"— he gestures to the food—"but that only worked because I thought you knew to look past my pretense."
"I definitely thought it was real," she admits sheepishly. "Or at least coming from a real place. I just was willing to ignore it."
She didn't even know he was acting. He relied on the notion that she knew he was acting. Does he know anything about her, about this relationship?
"I thought you had become self-conscious," he confesses like a man who gambled everything he had and lost it all.
"I-I sort of did!" she gets out in a rush, a misinformed attempt to uplift her dour fiance. "I became conscious of how my past self behaved when I was pining after you and realised that I didn't need to do that anymore because I actually have you now," she ends optimistically.
He misunderstood so much. "What else don't I know about you?" he asks in all seriousness.
"Huh?" She chuckles in confusion. "What are you talking about? You know everything about me."
"Evidently not."
"Of course you do!" She holds up her half-finished takoyaki. "You remembered the mayonnaise!"
"Nanase, this is important!" he groans. "Just because I supplied mayonnaise for your takoyaki doesn't mean I know everything about you."
"And just because you misunderstood this one little thing about me doesn't mean you don't."
She doesn't get it. It's not just the hand-holding. It's the illusion of transparency, it's about inaccurate deductions, it's because she matters—
Nanase tugs his mouth open and puts in a baby castella. "Here."
For a split second, he considers spitting it out on principle before realising spitting it out would be disgusting. "I got those for you," he reproves once he's done chewing.
"And I'm letting you have some. I'm not the only one between the two of us who likes sweet bread, right?" she argues as she holds up another one to his mouth.
Kairi acquiesces on sharing the food, but he doesn't let her feed him. "See, you do have a limit on public displays of affection," she points out when he eats a castella of his own volition. "I just misjudged where that limit was."
He looks at her incredulously. "We're already holding hands," he retorts, covering the sight of his half-chewed food with one hand while the other waves their joined ones for emphasis. "Additional intimate interactions are superfluous."
"I would certainly appreciate 'additional interactions'."
"Appreciate what you have," he snarks on habit before remembering himself. He checks her reaction out of the corner of his eye. Will she start looking past his pretense?
Her exaggerated, coquettish blinks are answer enough. "So you won't hug me?"
He maintains a beleaguered veneer through the relief. "Hugging and hand-holding are mutually exclusive activities. One must replace the other; therefore neither will surpass my quotient for ardent displays."
She immediately releases their grasped hands and sticks her arms out in a low invitation. "How about now?"
He knows—he knows—his heart is not physically swelling from overwhelming fondness. His syncopated heartbeat is not arrhythmia. He requires no medical attention… but the sight of his adorable fiance and her cheeky but earnest ploys for his affection wreaks just so much havoc on his constitution.
He can't smile, or blush, or do something else with his face to betray that affection, but he doesn't have to. That isn't what she's asking for.
He wraps her up in intentional, unhurried movements, and he's rewarded with the squeeze of her arms around him. It's as grounding and reassuring as it always has been.
"I can't say I fully understand what you're worried about," she murmurs right below his ear, "but I can say I'm just as in love with you now as I was six years ago. I can also say that I know you love me, too."
He does. He doesn't say it nearly as often or as easily as she does, but he loves her.
"So how about this," she continues. "I show you love the way I know how, and you show me love the way you know how, and we can make up for the difference with honesty." It is framed like a proposal, but she speaks like she already knows how he'll respond.
Maybe she does.
"I can agree to those terms," he says as a formality, and she hugs him tighter.
Maybe she is the foremost, citable, preeminent authority on all things Tendo Kairi.
~~~
A/N (7.26.2023): Believe it or not, this was only supposed to be around 500 words…
The location I picked for Nanase's community nursing study abroad program is Gemeinschaftskrankenhaus Havelhöhe (Havelhöhe Community Hospital) in Germany, which is a small academic teaching hospital in a very suburban area of Berlin and actually practises community nursing. It's associated with Charité, one of Europe's biggest university hospitals and the primary hospital in Berlin, which makes it even more likely to actually host a study abroad nursing program. (It does not in real life, though. The Gemeinschaftskrankenhaus Havelhöhe mostly trains doctors, not nurses.)
Kairi's joke about it being half of a hospital is because the first two syllables of the neighbourhood it's located in, Havelhöhe (hæ-fu-heu-eh), is pronounced like how the English word 'half' is pronounced in Japanese.
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universaln0b0dy · 6 months
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Demonslayer 200 years before au!
Au introduction:
Tanjiro stares at the piece of paper that had been gifted to him by the village eldest. He had tried to refuse it as the artifact seemed important, but the man had simply smiled and gave it to him.
"What do you have there Gonpachiro?" Inousuke asks, tilting his boar head. Impatiently tapping his foot. Tanjiro looks at it.
"Its a picture of demonslayers way before our time. I heard they were very scary and serious. The village man said they lived 200 years ago and the they passed down their stories." Tanjiro focuses on the paper, even seeing someone that looked like the flame pillar. May he rest in peace. Unbeknownst to Tanjiro the slayers from 200 years ago were everything but serious and scary...
"Midori!" The hashira of sickness, Sonomi Midori looks up at the current flame Hashira Toshiaki Rengoku, looks at her with a frown on his face. He had a scar on his face, right over his blind eye.
"Yes, Rengoku? How may I be of help?" Sonomi subconsciously grabs her green hair pushing it out of her face, the dark skin with the pale spots all over it being completely revealed in order to show him that she was paying attention.
"Katsu, has just returned from a mission and needs your aide!" Sono I nods a cocky smirk on her face. "I could have guessed it, Katsu is truly a reckless person."
The sand hashira was known for her all over the place personality, wich caused her to make some pretty bad decision ones in a while. Sonomi stands up making her way towards the mansion she was living in. She was the nurse of the corps, though her personality made it hard to believe.
Suna was waiting for her, cuts and bruises all over her face. Sonomi is fighting back a loud laugh, watching the sand hashira fiddle with her uniform.
"Katsu, what have you done there?" Suna looks at Sonomi, the slightly blank expression of the female making her giggle.
"Oh! Hey Midori, I had a battle with a demon that didn't really like having sand in their eyes." She muttered and Sonomi nodded understanding. She grabbed a paste with a soft sigh, hoping this would work.
Washing the wound was of course also a great thing to do, but both Sonomi and Suna needed to do a lot more missions when the male counter part of the corps. Sunas crow was of course already talking about her new mission already.
"Let's get this over with quick! We have already managed to track down one of the lower moons! With a bit of luck I'll be the slayer of that demon!"
Sonomi can't help but share Sunas exitmend, wishing her friend and colleague the best of luck.
Suna was known for not only being an excellent slayer but also for having a merciful tone towards them. Quite unbelievable with her reputation of hunting demons down for sport.
"I'll see you soon Midori!" The woman yells and Sonomi shakes her head.
"I hope not Katsu!"
Secrets of the Tokugawa period:
Sonomi Midori hates the colour green despite having a green slayer uniform, green hair and green eyes. Her favourite is actually red, the colour of the current wind hashiras eyes.
(Should I have made a mistake in this au, as for example mentioning a breathing that has yet to be made, feel free to tell me!)
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snowymav · 2 years
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req @simpingforclaudette : what do you think of a scenario where tangerine lives and he and ladybug meet again at a gay bar?
i wasn’t lying when i said i preferred writing angst..
i’m so sorry this probably wasn’t what you were after when you requested this!! :<
they also aren’t in a gay bar, just a regular club..
i got carried away, forgive me.
also posted on ao3, here !
————
“Another drink, Nathaniel?” The woman was slurring every word, who Nathaniel was Ladybug had no clue, clearly drunk despite the lack of alcohol she had consumed. He wondered why he was even here, what had brought him to think finding a hookup on a dating site was actually a good idea? She had been kind, at first, keeping him company as he nursed the glass of coke in his hand, Veronica was her name.
It had been nice for a while, until she got bored. Or more like Ladybug had gotten bored. He supposed it was his own fault she started to chat with the bar staff, after all he had promised sex, and sex definitely didn’t look like the bottom of a coke glass filled with ice and a slice of lime. That’s what Ladybug had busied himself with for almost half an hour.
“I'm good, thank you though.” Ladybug waved her off. He wasn’t trying to be rude, simply couldn’t find it in himself to look at her anymore, he was disinterested.
“That’s not- Nathaniel you’re supposed to be buying me drinks, a lady never pays for her own drinks on a first date!” Again with the Nathaniel. The pitch in her voice got higher with every word, Ladybug’s already blooming headache seemingly on course for the worst sober hangover he’d ever experience. The lack of alcohol mixed with booming music, bright lights and the drunk lady beside him wasn’t tasteful. In fact it made him feel sick.
He only felt worse when he finally lifted his head, hands coming to pat at his jeans, the bartender taking the chance to snatch his empty glass. Veronica was pretty, Ladybug was almost sorry he hadn’t paid attention to her, he’s sure she would’ve been lovely sober. But when he finally went to make eye contact with her, he noticed something, someone, awfully familiar.
“Nathaniel?” Ladybug had been standing from his seat at the bar before he could render himself walking, Veronica’s voice calling out to him getting quieter as he pushed through the sea of people in his way.
He felt like his legs were going to give out, trying his best to keep on the curly, ginger tinged hair that had caught his eye. Ladybug was sure his heart was beating far too fast to be considered healthy and that the way he was breathing would definitely make him seem like he was at the start of a nervous breakdown. He kept walking, more like jogging, his shoulder barges getting harder the more people he passed.
And when he finally got close enough, Ladybug couldn’t stop himself, reaching out and bringing his hand down to a sweater covered shoulder. His grip hard, startling the man, making him jump slightly, the music drowning out his shout as he whipped his head around to the culprit.
“Jesus christ, don’t you know anythin about fuckin manners?” There it was, the ding in Ladybugs head. This is why you’re here. All it took was the wave off a thick british accent cursing blindly and Ladybug knew he wasn’t dreaming.
“Tangerine…”
He hadn’t heard that nickname in months. No one had called him that, not even his handler when calling for check ups, and his brother refused to buy tangerines for the apartment or anything in the orange fruit family for that matter. It filled him with fear, anger. Made the scar on his neck burn. His eyes sting with tears.
Though what surprised Tangerine the most was that it seemed to have the same effect on Ladybug.
He hadn’t changed much, blond hair a little longer, bags under his eyes a little darker. But he was still the same little Ladybug that shot him, the same man he hadn’t stopped thinking about since the day he was supposed to die. Tangerine wasn't mad, he wasn’t upset, not at Ladybug. Sure he was pissed that he was stupid enough to believe a child over him, but he had longed for Ladybugs eyes on his own ever since he closed them for what he thought was the last time, on the train.
Ladybug had sobbed, a horrendous noise wretched from deep in his throat when Tangerine had pulled him forward by his hands, backing them up into the toilets.
Tangerine's hand was on the back of his neck, pushing Ladybug into his shoulder, his other hand coming to grip at his waist. It took Ladybug a few moments to register who’s touch was on him, it had been so long since he’d had anyone this close. Once he had inhaled, realising Tangerine hadn’t pulled out a gun or knocked a punch to his gut, his own hands were gripping at everything they could.
He sent them flying backwards into the tiled wall out of sheer force in returning the hug, pressing his chest up to Tangerine’s, wrapping his arms around him and tugging him closer. Tangerine had begun to cry at some point, letting himself shed the tears he had kept in for so long.
“You’re an arsehole, ya know? leaving me to die.” Tangerine was laughing through his tears, choking on them as he spoke. Every word was being mumbled into Ladybugs hair, the vibrations reminding him that he wasn’t dead. “Can't believe you killed me!”
“Shut up, god please shut up-“ His voice was strained, Ladybug wanted to laugh, wanted to see the light in shooting Tangerine but he couldn’t. Not after watching him bleed out onto the floor of the train, hearing him splutter over his last words which had in fact been a warning to the actual Diesel on the train, seeing the man’s brother mourn his loss right in front of him.
“You’re alright, Bug. I’m fine.”
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winderlylandchime · 7 months
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Okay so two tiny stories about what happened with my idiot brother. First if all: He went on an insane rant after the episode about Lindsay and her cheating on pregnant Mel and how that was the same shit that happened in s1. Which I fully agree. He has a lot of feelings about the sam plot, not one of them is good. Except, he didn’t go on his rant to me but instead on one of the poor new nurses/interns at the hospital. The poor girl didn’t even know who or what he was talking about because the idiot slipped up a few times and said words like ‘my Brian/my Justin, How will i be able to watch Gus deal with this’ and so on, so it kind of sounded like he was talking about a friend. And he kept going on and on and the poor girl was GIVING HIM ADVICE! And also listening as if she was getting some amazing gossip. Only for one of the other nurses to walk in that does know him and before she left the room she pointed to him and went ‘and don’t pay attention to anything he says. He’s talking about a tv show not real people’ and the new nurse looked at him all shocked and this moron looks at her and goes ‘if it makes you feel better, they are real to me’
And then the second little story: he called our mom and left her multiple texts and voice memos and majority of them were about Brian and his cancer. But she’s a smart woman, so she didn’t answer. However he found a brand new victim. Our uncle. He called him and started talking about Brian and Justin as if they were his friends and i can hear the conversation because it’s on speaker and our uncle goes ‘(his name) is this about that show that your mom warned me about? That she specifically told me to not let you talk to me about it because you’re acting weird about it?’ And he goes ‘off the record? Yes, and i AM worried! AND FOR A GOOD REASON! Bri Bri has cancer and even though he’s doing better, cancer is cancer! And it’s scary. And then there’s Justin and theyre getting closer and closer and I can tell that Brian is seconds away from saying I love you. He’s changed so much this season. But on the record? I have no clue what show you’re talking about, never heard of it, so don’t even think about telling on me to mom’ And then the next thing that we hear is our mom on the phone going ‘(his name), youre on speaker. And you promised youd try and act normal about this show’ and this moron went ‘sorry, wrong number’ and then hung up. This man is an actual legal adult.
DEAR SWEET ANON! I AM DYING OF LAUGHTER.
“if it makes you feel better, they are real to me” I AM DEAD.
HE WAS ON SPEAKER AND YOUR MOM WAS THERE. Busted! I came back from the dead just to die again at “sorry, wrong number.”
HE IS TOO MUCH. He is what I would be like if I didn’t have any embarrassment. My post doc screens intakes for my practice and we were joking around about how everyone should submit a list of celebrities they could not be a therapist to because they know too much about them (and because of where we work this is a legit concern). My post doc asked who I could not be a therapist to and I had to say a currently famous person rather than Gale Harold because how the fuck would I explain who Gale is to me? Your brother would just launch right into it! And good for him.
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 2 years
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📖Persuasion📖 Listen- and Read-Along, Chapters  Sixteen and Seventeen
Discussion of Chapters Thirteen, Fourteen, and Fifteen starts here.
Audio of Karen Savage’s LibriVox Reading on YouTube, starting at Chapter 16, Part One (Chapters 16 and 17 together ~ 33 minutes at normal speed)
Moira Fogarty’s reading at LibriVox  (Chapters 16 and 17 together ~ 34 minutes)
Text of Chapters Sixteen and Seventeen at Project Gutenberg.
Synopses:
Chapter 16:
On arrival at Bath, and settling in, Anne dismayed to realize her fears that her father is falling for Mrs. Clay, that she had back in August, were justified. Because even though the original plan was for Mrs. Clay to only stay until Anne got there, both Elizabeth and Sir Walter ask her to stay as their guest, and enjoy the pleasures of Bath. Sir Walter even insists that Mrs. Clay’s freckles are disappearing (!).
Mr. Elliot continues to be a frequent guest, and is charming to everyone. Even Lady Russell thinks he’s now a different man than he used to be, and is hinting that if he should propose, Anne should accept. But there is something about him that Anne just doesn’t trust.
Then the Elliots’ Cousins, the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple [Viscount is an actual rank of nobility] and her daughter, Miss Carteret, come to Bath, and much to her embarrassment, Anne’s family are falling over themselves to try and establish a friendly connection. Mr. Elliot tries to convince her that a connection to nobility is always a good thing, and could serve her well (and in any case, the more time and attention Sir Walter pays to the Viscountess, the less time he’ll have for Mrs. Clay). Anne has to admit that Mr. Elliot’s dislike of Mrs. Clay is a point in his favor.
Chapter 17:
While the rest of her family are trying to connect with the Dalrymples, Anne is reconnecting with an old friend from her boarding school, who’s now living in Bath: Mrs. Smith (nee Hamilton). When they were at school together, Miss Hamilton (3 years Anne’s senior) was the only friend who could help her through her homesickness and the grief over the death of her mother. So Anne is eager to rekindle their friendship.
Mrs. Smith is now a widow. Her husband, once wealthy, left her with a pile of debt, and she contracted Rheumatic fever which settled in her legs (Disability Representation tally: Seven). But Mrs. Smith is as cheerful as she ever was, and far from pitiable. Thanks to her home health carer, Nurse Rooke, she knows everything that goes on in Bath, and she also keeps busy and supplements her income by knitting trinkets and selling them to tourists.
This renewal of friendship disgusts her father, but Mr. Elliot expresses that he thinks it’s admirable. And Lady Russell is even more determined to have Anne and Mr. Elliot marry in Kellynch Church by next autumn.
Bits that stood out:
Chapter 16
If Elizabeth could but have heard this! Such personal praise might have struck her, especially as it did not appear to Anne that the freckles were at all lessened. But everything must take its chance. The evil of a marriage would be much diminished, if Elizabeth were also to marry. As for herself, she might always command a home with Lady Russell.
I somehow missed this detail the first two times I’ve read this story: that if their father remarries, his daughters will have to move out. That’s another reason why Anne wants Mr. Elliot to marry Elizabeth, instead of herself -- not only is that what Elizabeth and her father always wanted, but also Anne has another home where she’s known and welcomed. Elizabeth does not.
As much as Anne is disappointed and embarrassed by her family, she still loves them, and doesn’t really want them to suffer, she just wishes they could learn to be better people.
Mr Elliot, too, it must be remembered, had not been a widower seven months. A little delay on his side might be very excusable. In fact, Anne could never see the crape round his hat, without fearing that she was the inexcusable one, in attributing to him such imaginations; for though his marriage had not been very happy, still it had existed so many years that she could not comprehend a very rapid recovery from the awful impression of its being dissolved.
This is the same amount of time that Captain Benwick has been mourning the death of his fiancee, remember. And simply the thought that he might be interested in Anne so soon after Fanny’s death is enough for Charles, Mary, and Lady Russell to look down on him. But Lady Russell is more than happy to promote a marriage between Mr. Elliot and Anne -- Because Mr. Elliot is a gentleman, and heir to a title, and Captain Benwick is a mere sailor.
This is why I say Persuasion is less a “Romance” (even though it is romantic) and more of a social satire, because Austen is using the story beats of the Marriage Plot as a means to highlight the hypocrisy of the aristocratic social order.
"[...] My cousin Anne shakes her head. She is not satisfied. She is fastidious. My dear cousin” (sitting down by her), “you have a better right to be fastidious than almost any other woman I know; but will it answer? Will it make you happy? Will it not be wiser to accept the society of those good ladies in Laura Place, and enjoy all the advantages of the connexion as far as possible? You may depend upon it, that they will move in the first set in Bath this winter, and as rank is rank, your being known to be related to them will have its use in fixing your family (our family let me say) in that degree of consideration which we must all wish for.”
And here, the temptations of the aristocratic class to which Anne was born are laid out. I am not Christian in my thinking. But Jane Austen was. And here, I just get a vibe of “Serpent in the Garden of Eden.” You know?
Chapter 17
The visit was paid, their acquaintance re-established, their interest in each other more than re-kindled. The first ten minutes had its awkwardness and its emotion.
Okay. Raise your hand if you, as a disabled person, have been on the receiving end of this situation, meeting up with an old friend after your health condition has changed. 🙋🏻‍♀️ (Also note that Jane Austen’s own health was failing at this point, and she was becoming mobility impaired. I can’t help but think her scenes with Mrs. Smith were based on her own experiences).
[Mrs. Smith discussing her relationship with Nurse Rooke] “She had a large acquaintance, of course professionally, among those who can afford to buy, and she disposes of my merchandise. She always takes the right time for applying. Everybody’s heart is open, you know, when they have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recovering the blessing of health, and Nurse Rooke thoroughly understands when to speak. She is a shrewd, intelligent, sensible woman. Hers is a line for seeing human nature; and she has a fund of good sense and observation, which, as a companion, make her infinitely superior to thousands of those who having only received ‘the best education in the world,’ know nothing worth attending to.”
I want a spin-off novel with Nurse Rooke and Mrs. Smith as protagonists.
And I will never deign to watch the Netflix adaptation, because they removed Mrs. Smith and Nurse Rooke from the story altogether. (!!!) Talk about not understanding your source material!
“I do not suppose the situation my friend Mrs Rooke is in at present, will furnish much either to interest or edify me. She is only nursing Mrs Wallis of Marlborough Buildings; a mere pretty, silly, expensive, fashionable woman, I believe; and of course will have nothing to report but of lace and finery. I mean to make my profit of Mrs Wallis, however. She has plenty of money, and I intend she shall buy all the high-priced things I have in hand now.”
Note the difference between how Mrs. Smith views Mrs. Wallis, and how Sir Walter views her. since: “You haven’t even met the beautiful Mrs. Wallis, yet!” is the argument that Sir Walter uses to convince Mrs. Clay to stay with them in Bath. (Also remember that Mrs. Wallis is the wife of Colonel Wallis, who is the friend of Mr. Elliot, and who has been going around persuading everyone that Mr. Elliot is now a reformed and better man).
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I’ll Take Care of You, Chapter 1: Visits
so, I did a thing. Been reading some Billy fics on here and damn. Y’all got me inspired. Love me some thirst for Billy Russo.
This idea came to me out of the blue, idk. It will be a multi-chapter fic but I’m not sure how long. There shall be smut, babes. I’ll also be posting to my ao3 as well (pen name: i_hear_the_birds). I do not consent to my works being copied and/or posted elsewhere.
Fic Summary: Reader works in the hospital where Billy Russo keeps his mother. They’ve caught each other’s eye. But she thinks he is the devoted son... little does she know what hides behind a handsome face and expensive suits. 
Pairing: Billy Russo x Fem!Nurse!Reader
Chapter Summary: You’ve noticed the tall, dark, handsome man visiting his mother at the hospital you work in. And you knew that he had noticed you, too. It was time for you to do something about it.
Warnings: mentions of drug use, swearing, reader is thirsty (but aren’t we all?)
Words: 1.3k
Masterlist ~~ Chapter 2
~
You bit your lip, debating what you were about to do. You’d been thinking about it for a while. Ever since he winked at you 3 weeks ago.  
You’d heard the whispers from the other nurses and the PSWs. He was one of the hospital’s biggest donors, visiting his mother who had been there for years. Even though she abandoned him as a baby, he found her in the streets and made sure she was well looked after, thanks to his successful private security company.  
She was actually one of your patients. Carla Russo. She wasn’t healthy, but she was doing okay. Drugs had ruined her immune and nervous systems; smoking had wrecked her throat and lungs. She was nonverbal. She always appeared super panicky after her son left, but you would assure her that her son would come back to see her soon. It never seemed to settle her.
Normally, he didn’t pay any attention to the staff. He’d talk to his mother’s doctors, but that was about it. But you knew that you caught his eye. There was the wink three weeks ago. There was more than that, though. He looked back at you once as he was leaving, too. You’d seen the fire in his dark eyes.
Normally, you didn’t give a second thought to anyone looking at you. But he never paid attention to anyone. Except you. With the wonderful things you’d heard about him and the fact that he was, to be frank, hot as fuck… you wanted him. Bad.
Sure, he was older than you. At least 10 years. That wasn’t crazy. You’d been a nurse for a few years now, but had only gotten the job at this private hospital a few months ago. It wasn’t the most exciting job. It had good pay though, and benefits. You had your life figured out. You didn’t care about the age difference. You knew what you wanted. You wanted him.
So, it was time to put your plan in motion. You turned the handle and opened the door.  
You pretended to be looking at the order on your clipboard. “Okay, darlin’, you ready for that mouth swab-” You looked up. “Oh gosh! Umm, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that Carla had a visitor.” You mumbled. Those dark eyes did take you by surprise; you didn’t have to act. It was like looking into a dark abyss.
He eyed you for a moment, his face unreadable. You felt a flush creeping up your neck. Then he smiled. “That’s all right, isn’t it, Mother?” he turned away from you to look at his mother.
Her sheets were tangled around her ankles. Her eyes were wide but they relaxed when you went over to her to fix up her bed.
“Oh, sorry about that.” He said, moving to the other side of the bed to help with the covers. “Mother looked a little flushed.”
You held the back of your hand against Carla's forehead. “Hmm, maybe a little warm. You took out your thermometer from one of the pockets in your pants and took her temperature. “No fever.” You said with a smile to her son.
He grinned. “Wonderful. What’s your name, darling?”
You tapped your name badge, and he leaned forward slightly to read it. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He held his hand out for you to shake.
You took it. “You too, Mr. Russo.”
“Please. Call me Billy.” He said, before he dropped your hand.
You blushed, and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Okay, Billy.” You cleared your throat. “Well, I am sorry to interrupt. I can come back later.”
Billy gave you a sly smile that caused your heart to race. “I sure hope that you do.”
You blushed even deeper before you left the room.
When you came back to give Carla what was on the order at the actual scheduled time, Billy was gone. You frowned at first but continued with your job. Next time.
***
The next time he visited, you abandoned the “oops, didn’t know you were here” tactic. You went up to him as he finished speaking with the doctor.
“Hi.” You said as he turned around.
“Well, hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you, again.” He gave you a pleasant smile.  
“You, as well,” you said. Your tongue wet your bottom lip as you stared into his eyes. You noticed he had a little freckle under his right eye. “Carla will be so happy to see you.”
Billy grinned. It should be illegal for a man to be that handsome.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” You said, stepping away from the door.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He opened the door to his mother’s room. He closed it, but not before giving you a wink.
His winks made your knees wobble.
***
At his next visit, he had brought a bouquet of flowers. A small, pretty arrangement. He didn’t have the door closed, and when he saw you passing by, he called you in.
“What can I do for you?” You asked expectantly. “Everything okay?”
Billy grinned. He plucked a flower from the bouquet and present it to you. It was a red rose, out of place from the rest of the flowers.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I-oh. For me?”
“Pretty flower for a pretty little lady.” He stated. His eyes were fiery.
You blushed before you accepted the rose. “That’s too sweet. You’re a nice guy.” You said dumbly.
He chuckled. “I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my mother.”
“It’s my pleasure.” You said sincerely. “I can see how much you care about her.” You smiled over at Carla in her bed. She stared back at you.
He hid a smile by running his fingers over his beard.
You brought the flower to your nose and took a whiff. “Well, thank you, Billy.”
“It’s my pleasure, Y/N.” You bit your lip, trying to stifle your grin. “Now, I’ve got to go. I look forward to seeing you again.”
***
You didn’t want to wait anymore. You knew he was into you. You knew that you’d probably have to make the first move. It wasn’t unheard of for relatives of patients to become interested in their family member’s care takers. Billy seemed like a smart guy. He probably knew not to get involved... even though he had shown his interest.  
Was it a bad idea? Probably. He did so much for the hospital, with his donations and public support. Could it jeopardize your job? Probably. Could it impact his mother’s care? Probably.
You needed to make your move before you lost your nerve. Thinking too much was ruining the mood.
He was here this evening. He usually stayed for about 20 minutes. You looked at your watch. He’d been here for just over 15.
It was almost 8pm. You were just starting your night shift. No doctors were here. Nursing staff was lighter. Today was the day to do it.
You were waiting, leaning against the counter at the nursing station for him to leave his mother’s room. When you saw him, you reached up and pulled your hair free from the elastic. You ran your fingers through your hair to smooth it out. You unbuttoned the top two buttons of your cardigan.
He watched you, and a wolfish smile took over his lips. He approached you steadily.
“Warm, are we?” he asked when he was in front of you. “You look it.”
“Pardon?” You asked, a little breathless. His cologne smelled good.
“Hot. You look hot.” He said bluntly. “You are hot.”
Normally, you wouldn’t take that as a compliment. It always sounded shallow. But coming from this tall, dark man, it set a fire to your bones.
“So are you.” You said confidently.
He grinned. “You think so?” He stepped closer to you.
You nodded.
It looked like he was about to step closer when another nurse came over to the desk to use the phone.
You cleared your throat, but Billy didn’t move away. “I know what you want, little lady.”
“What’s that?” You whispered back, tilting your face back to look at his.
“Why don’t you take me somewhere and show me?” He had a teasing look in his eyes.
You licked your lips absently. Now was your chance.
***
Author's note: Let me know what you think!! You're in for a wild ride for the next chapter ;)
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neonacity · 3 years
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LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.6
LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.
Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?
NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.
Genre: yandere, horror, suspense
TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age, drugs, slight smut for this chapter but nothing graphic, questionable consent (?) I guess? Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.
CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5
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“EVERYONE HAS A DARKER NATURE. EVERYONE. GOOD MEN FEAR IT, AND EVIL MEN EMBRACE IT.” - JAMES ISLINGTON
The silent hum of the air conditioning filled the space like a foreboding chant. Nothing else but the sound of the hospital machinery and random noises outside pierced the stillness of the room as you stared, unseeing, at the green and orange numbers that blinked on the monitor above the bed. 
You barely have any recollection of how you managed to find yourself in the hospital, but you do remember brief memories of Taeyong picking you up from the floor you found yourself crumpled on after you got the call. You remember seeing Jaehyun's parents at a brightly lit corridor and his mother pulling you into a hug as she broke down and his father telling you how his son hasn't woken up since he was brought to the emergency room.
You remember your heart breaking in shock, mind too numb from the godforsaken pills you have been taking and your own injury. So many times you wondered to yourself if you were still caught in one of your nightmares, but every time you tried to break free from it, you're slapped back with the reality of how all of this is real.
Your fingers gently tightened on Jaehyun's hands now as your gaze landed on his face. He looked so peaceful, like he's just sleeping, that you almost wanted to bend over and try to kiss him awake. You don't even have any idea what time and day it is already, but you have barely left his side since you were brought to him. The nightmares and sleeplessness? They're barely a problem for you anymore because right now, you're entirely not resting at all unless your body forces you to crash from physical exhaustion. Even then, you usually only sleep for about two to three hours at best to make sure that you never miss a moment with your fiance.
"Severe traumatic head injury. He was lucky enough that the airbag shielded him from the worst of the impact."
The words of his attending doctor echoed in your head again like a faraway voice. You could only remember bits and pieces of what he said to his parents back then as he reported his findings, but you caught enough context for you to draw a picture of the situation. You remember Jaehyun's mother asking the chances of her son waking up again, her voice barely holding up from her emotions. 
"I cannot promise anything, Ma'm. I'd say he has a 60 percent chance. He's fighting."
And he is. You know Jaehyun inside out. He might be unconscious now, but there is no way he is giving up. Not from something like this. 
"Keep fighting baby…" you whispered in the stillness of the room as you lifted his hand gently to your lips to kiss. "I'll wait for you. We still have a wedding to do."
The slight creaking of the door barely made you look away from his sleeping face. You only did at the gentle sound of a throat clearing, your eyes slightly widening as you recognized the man who just walked inside the room. Taeil had the same mildly shocked look on him as he stopped on the  other side of the bed across from you. 
"You…"
"Are you a relative of the patient?" He asked now as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. You simply nodded, watching him quickly glance at the numbers on the monitor before his eyes settled on you again.
"I'm his fiancee."
That made him raise his brows slightly. He pulled a pen now from the pocket of his coat to quickly write something on his file. "What a coincidence. Not a good one obviously. I'm sorry to hear about him. Mr. Jung, right?"
You swallowed. You didn't want to acknowledge anything that he just said so you tried to divert the conversation instead.
"You're not his doctor. Why are you…"
"Oh. He was turned over to me today. I am one of the resident neurologists here but he had to be moved to me because his first doctor has too much in his plate already. Don't worry, I was briefed properly about his case."
Your gaze followed Taeil as he bent over to check Jaehyun's oxygen level as well as the other wires attached to him. You don't know what to feel about him taking over, but at least you already know him previously.
"Are there any changes? Positive ones?" You asked in a frail voice that Taeil definitely didn't miss. You told yourself to not act silly and ask questions that probably do not have answers yet, but you couldn't help yourself now. The man seemed to think over his words first, noticing your state, before calmly giving his reply.
"No particular ones, but the fact that there are no negative developments is… something. I will have to request for some tests to be done on him again tomorrow so we can see if there are positive changes in his brain."
Neutral. Not good, but at least it's not bad either.
"How are you? I was about to check on you again. Is your head okay?"
You were still thinking over his words that you barely caught his question. Looking up, you tried to scramble for an answer to give. To be honest, you haven't given proper attention to your own injury since this happened. You would even only remember to take your medications on your clearest, less anxious moments, which, honestly, isn’t a lot. 
"I'm uh… the wound has closed. But the headaches. They're still there."
He simply nodded. "Any other side effects?"
You didn't immediately answer. You didn't want to sound whiny, but it's not like you're going to lose anything by telling him the uglier parts of your recovery. You swallowed to try and dislodge the slight blockage in your throat.
"Nightmares…" you said now, voice soft. You briefly remembered the last one you had back in the manor before you woke up to the bad news and you felt your stomach turn again. "Lots of them. Hallucinations sometimes…"
The doctor watched you carefully and you know he is trying to compute things in his mind despite his face remaining calm.
"Have you been keeping to your schedule with your medications? Are you taking too much?"
You firmly shook your head no to his last question.
"No, I haven't been overdosing. But… I've been skipping my pills the last few days because of...because of this."
"How have you been feeling since you started missing your dosages then? Do you remember?"
That made you actually stop and think about it for a moment. Now that you are paying attention, you did notice how the nightmares have calmed down slightly. Even the hallucinations are almost gone. You frowned slightly to yourself.
"A bit… better actually."
Taeil took his time to observe you a bit more before writing something on a new page of his clipboard.
"You must have had severe reactions to the mixture of pills I gave you. I'm going to prescribe you new ones and ask the nurses to pick them up and bring them to you here. Can you promise that you'll try and take them though? You really need them to fully heal."
You nodded and gave him a slightly sheepish look.
"I will, thank you very much."
Taeil dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and gave you a gentle smile.
"Well, that's it for today. I'll come back tomorrow to give you updates about Mr. Jung." He had already turned and started walking away when he suddenly stopped to look at you again.
"Oh, and another thing. Please try and get some sleep. Recover… and then focus on helping your fiance."
******* You didn't really know what woke you up. Stirring from your sleep, the first thing that registered to you was the sound of distant traffic mixed with the gentle chirping of the morning birds from outside the window. A warm feeling radiated on your cheek and made the back of your eyelids glow red.
You flickered your eyes open and immediately rolled away to escape the ray of sunshine that slipped from the open curtains and shone directly at your face. You easily evaded it as you moved over to the other side of the bed which was empty and cold from the night before.
That was when you finally remembered that you were back in your home, in the same bedroom you share with Jaehyun. The day before, his mother offered to take the responsibility of watching over him so there was a sudden change of plans that finally gave you the reason to check back into your apartment after so long. If it were you, you would have preferred not leaving your boyfriend’s side until he wakes up, but you also knew that your future mother-in-law wanted to spend time with him so you relented. 
Of course you weren't thrilled to be home alone, especially with Jaehyun not being there, but the comfort that a real mattress provided—over the small couch you used to sleep in back at the hospital—is definitely a welcome change for your body. You even tried to take your medicine properly, the new ones that Taeil had provided, in the hopes of getting knocked down fast. Your adrenaline and anxiety had been fueling you in the past days, but you know from the way your heart thumped and your hands shook that you need a solid rest.
And you got it. You still feel a little groggy now but your body is definitely lighter and your head clearer. The nightmares didn't even come, and while they were replaced by total darkness or dreams in white that still made you anxious, you are willing to take those anytime over the graphic ones that you used to have.
You gently sat back against the headrest of the bed now and reached out for your phone to check the time. It's barely 7AM but as expected, Jaehyun's mom has already provided you with updates from the hospital. He’ll have some tests taken today as Taeil advised and then they’ll hear more about his progress. From the looks of it, she seems still set on watching over her son, which means you still have at least today free to yourself.
You quickly typed a reply to her and sighed. You’re thankful that even though you weren’t related by blood, his parents have always treated you as if you were their own. Having a family is not something you’ve really experienced in your childhood, so that’s something you’ve always appreciated about them. That is also the reason why you wish for the best out of this situation, because you also couldn’t bear seeing your fiance’s mother and father heartbroken. He’s their only son, after all.
A quick look around your room left you feeling empty. The last week has been so hard that it felt longer and now you’re struggling to find your normal pace again. In an effort to bring yourself to focus, you decided to pick up your phone once more and started flipping through your calendar to check your schedule. It didn’t take long for you to frown when you realized the upcoming dates there. You’ve plotted important academic schedules in advance and one quick look at it told you how much you’ve obviously missed in the past week. You’ve been so lost in the mess of everything that has happened that you’ve entirely forgotten about your job at the manor. You realized that they didn’t even call you once to ask about your absence, probably because they also know about the situation, but even that is not enough excuse for you to entirely fall off the radar.  
Biting your lip, you quickly scrolled through your contacts now to look for the number you need. Your thumb hovered over the call button momentarily, but you eventually pressed it anyway. Your eyes wandered towards the clock on the wall, hoping silently to yourself that it wasn’t too early for you to call.
“Rosewood Manor, how can I help you?”
You straightened on your seat.
“Hey, Taeyong. It’s me. Sorry if I called so early.”
The other boy seemed to have been taken slightly by surprise by the way he fell silent at the other end of the line. You tapped your finger against your knee, waiting for him to speak again.
“Hi. No, it’s fine. Work started for me about an hour ago. Are you okay? How’s things on your end?”
You nibbled guiltily on your lower lip and finally got off your bed to walk over to the window. You pushed the curtains open and stared at the slight snowfall that had started falling on the ground. You’ve missed so many days of reporting to them but the first thing he does is to check if you’re fine.
“I um—things are still the same. My boyfriend’s still at the hospital.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Look, I want to apologize. I haven’t really reported to work and I didn’t even call about it. It’s just that—things have been so crazy lately, but still that isn’t an excuse for me to just not show up.”
Taeyong, however, was understanding as always. You were about to go off for another round of apologies when he gently cut you off. 
“Hey, it’s fine. We know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately so we also weren't expecting anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”
“But, the boys’ examinations and portfolio review is happening in three days and I haven’t really checked in with them. How are they doing now?”
“Oh...that. Well, we actually tried looking for a temporary tutor to help out but I...uh… I think he isn't really cutting it. Maybe because he isn’t the one who started the program with them. But he’s a big help still.”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that. I should have at least—look, I can drop by today and just try to fix things.”
“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. Don’t you need to be at the hospital?”
You started going around your room now, trying to gather the scattered papers and files that you’ll need. It’s a good thing you woke up early so you still have time to prepare for work. “My boyfriend’s mother is the one watching over him today so I have the day off.”
“And your injury? How is it?”
Your eyes landed on the new bottles of medicine sitting on your bedside table.
“Better. I’m feeling so much better.”
You heard Taeyong sigh in relief over the phone. “Thank god. We were so worried about that. Well, you really don’t need to go, but if you have time, I guess doing it today won’t hurt. It will help us a lot.”
A small smile tugged at your lips now and you switched the phone over to your other ear as you started arranging your bag. “Thank you so much for being understanding. I need a distraction anyway. I’d rather work than stay home alone… Thanks for not firing me.”
That made him laugh a little. “I’ll tell the boys that you’re coming over. Oh, and be careful on your drive here. The roads are a little bit slippery today because of the snow.”
“I will, thank you. I’ll be there by 9.”
******* “Noona!”
You have barely finished arranging your materials on your desk when the door to the room burst open and ushered an anxious-looking Jisung inside. You looked up quickly at him, only barely catching Chenle wobbling with his crutch before your vision of the entrance was blocked by Jisung’s tall frame. His hair looked swept up as if he ran and there was a slight flush staining his cheeks. He stopped right in front of you, stopping just in time for him not to topple you over.
“Hey, Jisung how are—” You tried to give him a smile but he was quick enough to grab your hands between his.  
“Are you back? Are you really back for real?” He pressed now, eyes wide as he tried to bend over to look closely at you. He looked like a puppy, the only missing thing being a wagging tail to complete the look. You couldn’t help the brief laugh that passed over you as you tried to calm him down.
“I am. For the day, yes. Sorry I missed so many of your sessions.”
“We thought you left us,” Jisung continued, his lower lip protruding just a bit. Just then, Chenle had finally reached the two of you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. This is actually the first time you saw him again since the day the two of you had your accident and you’re glad to see him healthy despite his broken leg.
“Hi, Chenle. How are you?”
The boy scratched the back of his head and looked away slightly. “Fine… I’m sorry, noona. I wasn’t able to visit you when you stayed with us. I’m really really sorry about what happened in the forest.”
You tried to give him a reassuring smile and freed one of your hands from Jisung’s hold to ruffle his hair. The action seemed to have calmed him down a little because he finally looked at you again, a small apologetic smile on his own lips.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. But be careful next time, okay?”
“Are you going to be our tutor again, noona?” Jisung pressed once more and you turned your attention back to him. To be honest, you’re still not sure how your schedule will turn out after this, but you couldn’t really bear to break the poor boy’s heart at the moment.
“Yes… I’m here to teach your big brothers today for their tests though. We’ll have to schedule you and Chenle’s lessons again. Is that alright?”
A brief look of disappointment flashed on his face but he was quick enough to pick it up. Jisung smiled and gave your hand a squeeze.
“Okay. We can wait. It’s good you are back, Jaemin-hyung was so—”
“Yah, don’t hog her by yourself. You’ll scare her away.”
A new voice made the three of you look back to the doorway. Haechan smiled at your little group as he strolled casually into the room followed by Jeno and Jaemin. The three of them joined your crowd and you felt Jisung finally let go of your hand as he stepped away to go over to his brothers’ side.
“Hi. Sorry, I only returned now. Taeyong told me that you—”
You weren’t able to finish what you wanted to say as Haechan gently stopped you mid-sentence. He leaned his head to the side, eyes briefly scanning you from head to toe. Unlike Jisung, he looked calm and only barely excited.
“It’s fine. We knew you’ll come back. How are you?”
“Oh… I’m good. My head is better. I haven’t had the chance to thank all of you for taking care of me when I was here.”
“How about your boyfriend?” It was Jeno who asked this time and you quickly turned to him to address his question. Your eyes briefly slipped to Jaemin who was standing behind him before you could even speak though, and for a moment you had the impression that Jeno was shielding him—or blocking him from you. You blinked a little bit in confusion, wondering if it was just your imagination that was making you think that way.
“He’s still… still unconscious,” your smile dropped a little but you tried your best to keep your voice casual. “We’re getting more tests for him. His doctor said that he isn’t showing bad signs at least.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about him,” Haechan said with compassion and you gave him a grateful look. Your gaze settled on Jaemin again, however, who for some reason had barely looked at you since he came into the room. You know that he can be quiet and reserved at times, but there is something in the air around him that makes you slightly worried. He’s so still, but the way he carries himself makes it seem like he’s so strung up at the same time. It also doesn’t help that Jeno seems to be almost pushing him back from view.
“Hi Jaemin… How are you?” You tried to gently ask him to make sure that he is okay. He didn’t look at you at first, but when he finally did, you felt yourself freeze a little. His eyes looked dark and almost emotionless when he met yours and there were shadows under them as if he hadn't slept properly for days. He didn’t even answer and just simply stared, his gaze blank and accusing at the same time.
Haechan casually glanced over his brother and chuckled. “Our Jaeminie here has been sick for the past couple of days so he’s a little out of it. But he’s going to be fine now,” he put a hand over the other’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as if to calm him down. “Right, Jaemin? We’ll try our best to go to class today since noona is finally back, hmm?”
Jaemin, however, didn’t even seem to hear him. He continued staring at you the same way that kept you pinned on your spot.
“Are you leaving again?” he finally asked and you almost felt goosebumps rise on your skin. It didn’t sound like a question… but more of a threat. You swallowed.
“I’m going to have to arrange my schedule till things get better…” you answered carefully, as if you’re navigating dark waters. That didn’t seem to cut it for him, unfortunately.
“So you’re not leaving. Forever?”
You blinked. To be honest, you’ve been thinking of quitting and just finishing the rest of the month if things didn’t improve, but you don’t think that’s the right answer to give at the moment.
“No… not for now,” you finally managed to say. You watched as Jaemin seemed to visibly relax, his stiff shoulders loosening under Haechan’s grip. He didn’t say anything after that, but he at least looked away, seemingly more satisfied with your words.
“Great. I think we should get to work,” Haechan broke the silence and looked around the room as if the tension you were feeling was just something only you could feel. He nodded towards Chenle and Jisung then. “You guys go back to your own classes. You’ll have your share of noona once it’s your turn.” He then glanced at you, smile still in place. “Should we start then?”
You nodded. “Is Renjun still not back?”
“Not yet. He’s going to be here tomorrow though,” Jeno answered as he took his seat on one of the desks.
“I see…”
Haechan also found his spot, but not before you’ve noticed him urging Jaemin to do the same. Playfully, he took the pencil you’ve arranged on the desk and started tapping it against the wood of the table.
“Don’t worry. We’ll tell him you’re back. I’m sure he can’t wait to have his lessons again~”
******* You looked over the window for the third time in the last fifteen minutes and sighed. The day had been busy with you trying to catch up on the boys’ lessons that you barely even noticed the state of the weather outside. When you finally did, it took you by surprise when you saw how much of the ground was covered by snow—one look at it told you that it is at least a feet deep by now. Your first instinct was to try and maneuver your car out of the lot before your tires get entirely buried in it, but then you remembered that you promised to wait for Taeyong to come back before leaving the manor. The butler requested for you to temporarily watch over the manor while he tries to do some last minute errands back in the city, but it’s been two hours since he originally promised to come back. You eyes glanced at your watch now, then back at the quickly darkening view outside. 
“...severe snowstorm has blocked some of the main roads in the city at the moment. Expect heavy traffic and don’t forget to drive safely.”
You turned to the television now to catch the last of the rambling dialogue of the reporter about the weather. You’ve been debating on whether to call Taeyong or not to check on him, but you didn’t want to seem impatient to go home when you only really wanted to make sure if he’s safe. From the looks of it, he’s stuck somewhere because of the hale, too.
You were on your way to get your phone from your bag to at least try to shoot him a message when you suddenly heard it ring. Getting it just in time, you almost sighed in relief when you saw his number there. You quickly took it and went over to the window to answer it to make sure you get some proper signal.
“Hello? Taeyong?”
“Hey. Finally. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour, thank god it finally connected.”
“Oh, sorry, my phone’s in my bag. I think the signal’s getting bad because of the snowstorm. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, about that, I’m still stuck in town. The traffic’s so bad here because a section of the main road is blocked. Road maintenance is supposed to come thirty minutes ago but I think there’s a delay because there are other roads they are working on.”
Your gaze drifted back to the television where scenes of the same blocked avenues were being flashed. “Yeah… the news says the same.  Are you safe though?”
“I am. I’m really sorry for making you wait. I’d tell you to drive back and not wait for me anymore but I don’t think you’ll also make it home in time with all this traffic going on. I don’t think it’s going to be safe. Do you mind waiting for a little bit more? I’ll tell you once the roads are better.”
You thought it over quickly, a frown settling on your face. You really want to go home, but he’s right. There’s no point in trying to drive back if you’ll only find yourself stuck in the roads for hours. Not being a big fan of night driving yourself, you can already imagine the stress waiting for you if you add a snowstorm to the mix. As much as you wanted to leave, you’re left with no choice, at least for the moment.
 “I can… I’ll just wait for you, I guess. Do you want me to do anything here while you’re gone? Dinner for the boys?”
“Oh no, no, you don’t need to do that, that’s not part of your job,” Taeyong sounded abashed when he said that. You stepped away from the window then and took a seat by the fireplace that Jeno started earlier. Half of your concentration was on the news which has now shifted to a different set of reports also caused by the snowstorm. “They’ll know when to go down and eat. Don’t worry about them. Where are they right now?”
“Ah, I think they went back to their rooms? I did tell them earlier that I’ll try to wait for you.”
“I see. Yes, I think that’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated. If things don’t get better, I think I’ll have no other choice but find a hostel here and wait for the weather to calm down. You can stay there and just ask for help from any of them. You can stay in the same room just in case.”
You didn’t quickly react to the offer. Instead, your eyes flickered to the doorway of the room before refocusing your attention back to the conversation. It’s not like you have anything against spending the night again at the manor—you’ve done it before, after all—but it’s honestly not really something you’re comfortable to do again. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been okay with overstaying at strangers’ houses but your gut feel is also telling you right now that it shouldn’t be your top option regardless of the situation you are in.
Still, you didn’t want to come off rude to Taeyong, not when he is only being kind to offer you temporary shelter while being stuck in the middle of nowhere himself. So instead, you went against your initial doubts and offered him your thanks in return. It’s just Plan B that he’s proposing after all. 
“I will. Keep me updated though if you need anything you think I can help with.”
“Thank you and I will. I have to go now though. Please make yourself at home. I’ll try to call again after an hour.”
“Okay. Take care.”
You put your phone down now with a worried frown as you heard the line drop. You couldn’t believe this is happening the first day you got back to work but it’s not like you can really blame anyone for it. The only good thing is that you’re sure Jaehyun is being taken care of right now so that is at least one thing off your shoulders. You didn’t really need to rush anywhere, not especially to a vacant home. Leaning back against your seat, you tried your best to relax as your gaze travelled around the room once again. You deliberated on sending a text to your mother-in-law to tell her about your situation but decided against it, not wanting to worry her more. You sighed. For now, you guess you didn’t have any other choice but to wait.
You did try to distract yourself by watching the news for a few more minutes before finally giving up on it. With resignation, you picked yourself up from your seat again and turned the television off. For a moment you simply stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do with your time when your gaze settled on the door again. Everyone retreated to their own rooms after they finished with their lessons so it means the house is pretty much yours for exploring if you wanted to. You toyed with the idea for a little bit, before finally resigning yourself to it. It’s not like there really is anything else left for you to do, and Taeyong did say you can make yourself feel at home if you wanted to. With a sigh, you finally turned on your heels to leave the room and peered silently into the hallway. It was deserted as expected, but still your eyes travelled left and right to check if there’s anyone out and about at this hour. It was only after you made sure that you were alone when you finally allowed yourself to step into the corridor.
Of course, you have a plan. You’re pretty much sure that checking out the rooms on the first floor is acceptable since it’s where you’ve been rotating your classes so you’re going to stick to those areas. You remember finding a library there once and you focused on finding your way to it to maybe check out some of the books in the collection. 
It did take you about five minutes to finally find the place you were looking for. For some reason, the sections in the manor always confuse you no matter how many times you try to memorize each one, probably because of how big and similar-looking they are on the outside. You’ve already tried four doors when you were finally welcomed by the familiar-looking bookshelves at the fifth one. You sighed and gave one quick look around the room before slipping yourself inside after making sure that you’re alone.
There will probably never be a time when you won’t find yourself fascinated by anything in this grand home. If the architecture of the mansion is not enough to convince anyone how rich the family is, their book collection is enough to assure that at the very least. You’ve only ever taken a quick glimpse of it once during one of your lessons with the boys, but one look of the titles in their shelves is enough to make any literature major excited. You looked at the floor to ceiling collection now, your fingers gently running over the spines of the books you could reach with a small smile on your face.
You were about to check out the rest of the collection on the other side of the wall when something in the middle of the room caught your attention. You didn’t really catch it at first because of the shadows that concealed it when you first came in, but you could pretty much discern the outline of a blanket covered standee now from where you stood. You frowned. Taking careful steps, you closed the distance towards it to try and figure out what exactly it is that you’re seeing.
A closer look revealed it to be an easel covered with white cloth. You could see the outline of the canvas where the blanket falls over it while shadows of colors peeked out into the thin fabric from the surface it was covering. How odd… you knew that Renjun had a different art room for his paintings so to see this now here in the middle of the library seems uncanny.
You didn’t know how long you remained standing in front of it, too. You know you should have walked away—after all, the white cloth hiding it away from plain view means whatever is on that canvas is not meant for everyone’s eyes to see, but you simply couldn’t tear yourself away from it. It’s as if there was a silent force asking you to pull that cloth to reveal what’s underneath, the inclination so strong that you could almost hear its voice breathing down next to your ear, unrelenting until you do what it says.
The next thing you know, you had your hand attached to one end of the fabric. You stared at it now, wondering last minute if you should go ahead or not. You swallowed and glanced around one last time around the room. If you’re alone… it wouldn’t hurt if you could take a peek, right? Nobody will know. You just have to see, then cover it back again. Before you could even think about it too much, your arm was finally moving on its own as it gently tugged at the covering. You watched as it fell gently on the floor, like a bodiless ghost melting into the shadows on the ground.
Your eyes couldn’t make out what you were seeing at first. The dim lighting of the room wasn’t helping at all, but you were sure that it was a woman’s silhouette that was staring back at you from the canvas. Colors swirled around her, like some unknown mass trying to drag her back into unknown depths. Shapes and tones jumped from the picture, but her form stood out from the rest, gracefully twisted as if she was in the middle of trying to fight and succumb to it at the same time. You frowned. Taking a step closer towards it, you tried to study its details under what little illumination the lamps above afforded you.
That’s when it all happened simultaneously. Your heart stopped beating the same time your eyes widened as they finally focused on what’s in front of them. It’s as if the ground suddenly vanished from underneath your feet and you were falling, falling, deep into the abyss despite your body being frozen in fear and shock.
You know this painting. You’ve seen it before. It was the same one by Renjun, the one that you saw on your first day working in the manor.
But it was different now. Instead of the unfinished state that caught your attention before, everything about the picture now is in sharp focus. The lines on the woman’s nude body, the hands—which you thought were simply dark swirls dragging her back—and her face twisted beautifully in pleasure and madness stared back at you like a nightmare.
But it was not those which truly shook you to your core. It’s the realization that it was your own face in the portrait that was staring back at you, silently screaming for you to run away.
You stumbled back in shock. Your chest felt tight as you tried to grasp for air while your hands fumbled to find something to hold on to keep you from crashing on the ground. Before you could even take another step, however, something hard hit your back and you felt strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice. You have barely realized what was happening when you felt someone lean over your shoulder, lips pressing against the shell of your ear.
“Isn’t it beautiful? You’re the perfect muse, don’t you think?” Renjun asked softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.
******* You didn’t know how long you stayed frozen in his embrace. For a brief moment you thought you were dreaming again until you felt his arms slowly tighten around your waist. As if a jolt of electricity shocked you, you immediately turned to push him away as you scrambled to put some distance between the two of you.
Renjun didn’t seem the least bothered when your eyes finally focused on him. He remained on his spot, his gaze on you unwavering. You, meanwhile, were shaking from head to toe, the vision of the painting still branded vividly in your head.
“Renjun—what’s this?” you managed to stutter as you pointed at the artwork in the middle of the room. You couldn’t even spare to look at it again while he merely gave it a casual glance.
“It’s you. I’ve been working on it for a long time. I was about to show it to you but it seems like you couldn’t wait for it yourself.”
You felt nauseous. A part of your rational mind was slowly losing it as you tried to process his answer. Something's not right. Something is so terribly wrong.
“Why—why did you do this?”
Renjun simply stared at you and leaned his head a little bit to the side as if he was only mildly curious of your reaction. Your stomach turned even before hearing his answer.
“You said it’s beautiful.”
“This is not right—!”
“I came home because they said you were leaving for good,” he continued speaking softly, effectively cutting you from what you were about to say. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you took another step back as you watched him get close to his artwork. You watched in horror as his thin fingers lovingly ran over the corners of the canvas. “Jaemin almost lost it… It’s a good thing I got here on time.”
And just like that, everything seemed to have clicked into place. The glances, the touches, the words that seemed to have a different undercurrent under them… they weren’t just fragments of your imagination. Every little thing that has gnawed at you from the inside came into crystal clear focus and you felt your knees go weak from the weight of it all. It took every fiber of your being to try and keep yourself steady now, your legs moving on their own as they took small backward steps away from the boy staring at you now with dead eyes. You couldn’t breathe, but it was the last words he told you that finally snapped you to run.
“I don’t think you’ve realized it yet. But no, you cannot leave. Ever.”
You didn’t know where you got the energy for it but in seconds you were flying out of that room and running blindly down the darkened corridors. Your blood pumped noisily in your ears and your chest felt like it was going to split from the sudden exertion you put on it, but you didn’t stop, not even looking back as you tried to put as much distance between you and the library. You didn’t even know where you were going. All you’re focused on is to find the exit and leave the house as soon as possible.
A loud bang that sounded off to your right startled you and you screamed, the force of your shock making you whip around and almost lose your balance. Before you could even hit the floor, however, a pair of hands caught you and you immediately turned, grasping at the chest of your rescuer.
You froze. Haechan smiled down at you as he tried to steady you on your feet.
“Haechan,” you gasped as you took fistfuls of his shirt and tried to shake him in your panic. “Renjun—he’s—please, help me. He’s after me—” you gasped out, almost out of your wits. You’re on the verge of a total breakdown that it almost escaped you, the way he simply smiled down on your shaking form. It was only when you felt one of his hands gently caress the top of your head that reality slapped you in the face again. You suddenly stopped struggling in his hold, pupils shaking as you watched him study your features lovingly.
“Shh… it’s fine. I got you,” he whispered and you could swear ice pricked you from the inside. A slight movement to the right made you turn your head and you saw Jaemin lean casually against the banister of the stairs, his face serene. He gave you one quick look before a gentle smile finally lit up his features.
“Has it started?” he asked and you felt Haechan’s hold on you tighten.
“It has.”
You didn’t struggle. It was as if any trace of fight you had left you in that moment and you let your hands fall limply on your sides. Haechan also loosened his grip on you and you stared at the two boys blankly, your chest heaving as if fighting for air. They didn’t move from their spots and simply followed you with their eyes as if relishing the fear and realization flashing in your face.
Trapped.
You’re trapped.
You’ve always been.
You didn’t even realize that your legs had started moving again on their own as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together in your mind. You were only shaken from it when your back finally hit the front door, the cold metal of the knob pressing against your spine. Jaemin and Haechan remained on their spots still, even as you blindly reached out for it from behind.
You were expecting it to be locked, so you were a little bit surprised when you felt it give way under your hand when you tried to turn it open. Just before you could even entertain the idea of escaping, however, any trace of hope you had quickly died as you turned and came face to face with Jeno standing right in front of the entrance. He didn’t look the least surprised seeing you there, as if he was waiting for you in the first place.
You eyes took in his calm countenance before slowly moving to stare downwards at what he was holding by his side. Your gaze locked on it in fear, and that’s when the flight response in you flared up again.
Jeno’s hunting rifle shone dully in the light of the entryway, his pale fingers wrapped on its handle.
“There’s really only one place you can run, noona, but I won’t advise it,” he said evenly and you felt your blood freeze in your veins.
“After all, no matter where you hide, I’ll still find you in that forest.”
It happened all at once. You broke into a run, your body screaming at you to go faster as you heard gunshots pierce the air.
---
CHAPTER 7
A/N: Good lord, I wasn’t expecting I’d finish this today but I got one large iced coffee and well... things happened. Anyway, enjoy! Let’s hope the format won’t mess up this time. T.T Finally, all hell broke loose~ <3
Tag list! 
@negincho, @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore​, @jsturkey, @aj-7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights, @xsnelly, @lihyuck, @laheyspizza, @miyeux27, @haoshitt, @mindofthescattered, @huangberryyy, @d1nne, @choppedupcactus, @neokat​, @yutasnabi​
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Oral Sadism and Literary Arguments
A/N : Ok, so, like enemies to lovers???? slow burn??? literature??? fuck me.
/ Masterlist /
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Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (College AU)
Word Count: 6k
Summary: There’s probably only one thing worse than chauvinist literature, and that’s the sardonic boy who sits two rows behind in Lit class with his torn paperbacks and ineffable aversion.
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“Well, I actually disagree with you,”
If you didn’t have that much self-control, you would’ve snapped the pencil you were holding in half, as you heard a deep voice speak up behind you, and before you could retort, Professor Gordon spoke,
“And why’s that Jason?”
“I think Bukowski was trying to present how men will hide their inner thoughts and feelings, really their sensitivity in that aggression as an attempt at protection.” Jason spoke up, his voice boiling your blood as the rest of the class stayed in relative silence, as you turned around to look at him as he stared directly at you,
“I’m sorry, protection? What part about misogyny and blatant objectification of women as only being sexual objects that can be discarded and picked up when he pleases passes as protection? Women that are empty and uncharacterised to the extent the reader begins to agree with Chinaski that yes, women are less. Women are not important. And women don’t require compassion and consent, what part of any of this reminds you about goddamn male – “
“All right, I think that’s enough for today.” Gordon interrupted your heated rant with a sigh, which you share and quickly turn around close your eyes to try and avoid the weight of Jason’s stare as Gordon begins to dismiss the class.
“All right everyone, I hope you took something useful from that discussion, though I’m not sure if you would classify that as a discussion,” He added sarcastically, before continuing, “I expect you all to have brief outlines planned out for next week, and please try to work as collaboratively as you can with your partner to do so.”
The last part was directed at you and Jason – though neither of you payed proper attention – while the rest of the class let out small snickers.
“Right then, class dismissed, and uh, you two, could you both please stay behind for a minute.”
Fucking great. You thought to yourself, even though Gordon didn’t specify both you and Jason, his tired expression tells you otherwise and you start collecting your notes and pens into your bag in a silent fury and made your way to the front of the class, where Gordon was leaning against his oak desk, watching both of you stand in front of him – not casting a single glance towards the other as you waited for him to speak. He sighs,
“I don’t think you both understand how frustrating it is when your top students both have it out for each other and can’t hold a single civil discussion before arguing like little children,” He begins, becoming more wary as he continues, “Which is why I paired you up for this assignment and I fully expect you both to work together, and I hope I can expect that from you?”
He looked at both of you with an expectant look, and Jason only nodded curtly as a response, and you did the same but decided to chirp in,
“That’s great that you think we’ll be able to work together, sir, but on a totally unrelated note, how would my grade be impacted if my partner was suddenly mauled by a car over the weekend and was unable to complete the project with me?” You spoke, voice deadpanning, as your professor barely restrained in a smile while Jason looked at you with an empty expression.
“I would say that would be a fail as you missed the premises of ‘working with a partner’, as well as some serious legal consequences.” He replied, somehow maintaining a serious look as he spoke.
“That’s great to know sir.” You spoke, nodding along before he dismisses you both, leading you to quickly walk out of the classroom, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see Barbara leaning against the wall, busy on her phone, waiting for you to come out.
“What took you so long,” She asks as soon as she hears your sigh, pocketing her phone, and linking her arm with yours,
“I swear to God, one day, I might as well skin him – “
“Look, if I had known before that you could be so dramatic, I would’ve told you to choose drama as your major.”
“Ha. So funny. It’s just – fuck him.” You say the last part under your breath as you turned around to see nobody in the empty hallway.
“You two are really something else.” She states, making you roll your eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s supposed to mean that you and Jason are really annoying. And petty.”
“Well, he’s the one that needs to contradict and compete against every single fucking thing I say, every single fucking time! It’s really fucking annoying,” Barbara only rolls her eyes in amusement. “And Gordon paired us up together for this project, and, God, I just can’t do anything with him without wanting to punch him in his stupid face.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why Gordon paired you both up, he really likes you both and he wants you both to stop having this weird rivalry between each other.”
“Wait. You knew?”
“Well yeah. I’m his daughter.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?”
“Because I like seeing you suffer.”
“You know, you’re a terrible friend.”
“Thank you,” She replies, with a small laugh, before she links her arm with yours again and whips out her phone to frantically shoot another text as she lets out a deep sigh. “Where is Steph? She took my car this morning and said she’d pick us up.”
“You let her drive your Bentley?” You ask, surprised she would give Stephanie one of her most prized possessions.
“Yeah, I know,” She spoke, absorbed in her phone, “But, she promised me that she would keep it safe, and we all know that I will kill her if something happens to it.”
“I do.” You reply, a small laugh escaping your lips before a blue Bentley pulled up in front of you both, causing Barbara to quickly pull open the door and shuffle inside, leaving you to chuckle to yourself before making your way to the back seat of the car, the blaring music making you wince as you enter the car but Babs quickly turns it off as both of you settle in.
“See! Your car is perfectly fine, just like I told you it would be!” Steph smugly announced, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as Barbara stared at her unimpressed, before both of them fall into their routine bickering as, this time, Babs begins to criticise her driving and apparent ‘mishandling of the most precious thing to me’, while you only roll your eyes at their antics before pulling out your phone to scroll through the messages you’ve missed throughout the day.
“Hey,” Steph’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you meet her eyes through the rear-view mirror, “What’s up with you today?”, her seemingly innocent question provokes a snicker from Babs – to which she receives a smack on the shoulder from you.
“What?” Steph inquires further.
“Nothing, why don’t you ask miss ‘I-fucking-hate-Jason-Todd’ here.”
“Fuck off, Barbara.” You grit out, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror.
“God, both you and Jason actually act like children,” Stephanie chimes in, “You’re both almost the same but you both compete against each other against every little thing – “.
“Are we done talking about Todd?” You retort, ignoring Steph’s comment, “I have better things to do than think about him.”
“Mhmm, sure.” Barbara winks at you and it takes a lot for you not to launch at her right there, in the car but Steph draws your attention away by babbling about some boy she met in her criminology class and the conversation in the car gradually fizzles out, until Steph asks,
“You guys heard about the party this weekend, right,” A matching ‘yes’ from you and Babs prompts her to continue, “Well, you’re going then, right?”
“I don’t know, but why’re you so pressed about it?” Bars questions, with a raised eyebrow.
“No reason, I’m just curious.”
“It’s Tim, isn’t it?” This time, you pipe in, and Steph almost yells,
“No. No, it’s not!”
“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Babs laugh echoes with yours as you eye Steph in the rear-view mirror, to see a blush dusting her cheeks as she quiets down.
“Whatever, are you coming or not.”
“After this conversation, yeah I am.”
“God. I hate you both.”
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Standing in the corner of the party, nursing a red solo cup of something that burns your throat when you drink it, you regret not saying anything in the car against attending this party.
You’re currently standing alone, both Steph and Babs have completely disappeared into crowd, as Dick had shown up and quickly whisked her away as soon as you all entered the apartment, whereas Steph has promised to get you a drink about twenty minutes ago but never came back and as you try to block out the reverberating EDM music blasting through the room, you make your way towards the kitchen to re-fill your cup (the one that you went and got yourself), before something catches your attention in the peripheral vision.
It’s a wispy haired girl, her eyes smudged with mascara, backed against the wall of the kitchen – away from the main crowd, you could pick from her body language a sense of uncomfortability as she was drunkenly shaking her head at a man who towered in front of her, making you stop in your tracks to watch the scene unfold right in front of you, before quickly changing your course towards their direction, already knowing the identity of the man in front of the girl, without seeing his face.
“Hey, Cyrus, get the fuck away from her!”
As soon as you reach them, and the words leave your mouth, another raucous voice speaks at the same time as you.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Cyrus and the girl in front of him stop at their hushed conversation, to look away from each other and face you both while you also look at Jason – with a shocked expression – standing next to you and before you can say anything, Cyrus lets go of his hold on the girl before turning to glare at you.
“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business?”
You restrain yourself from physically hurling at him and fist your hands at your sides before looking at him with an unimpressed look.
“I don’t see how any of this is your business either, Beck? Thought daddy said that he’ll pull you out of school if he had to deal with your stupid behaviour again, or did you forget about it?”
“I swear to god – “
He tries to step closer to you but Jason steps in front of you before he can do anything else, and mutters,
“How about you fucking walk away before something worse happens?”
Beck shrugs of Jason’s hold on him before walking away and pointing a finger at you.
“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?”
“Should’ve said that to your daddy when he said I was best fucking person he’s ever met.”
He looks at you wildly and is about to retort before one of his friends pulls his attention to a game of beer-pong happening in another corner of the party and the whole scene stops for a second. You watch with a held breath as within a fraction of a second, a cocky smile overtakes his face and his shoulders relax as he runs his hands through his dark hair, leaving with his friend and you quickly turn around to see the girl, still standing there, her arms wrapped around her body and a shocked expression on her face.
It takes you a second, but you manage to gently coax her to the hallway outside the apartment and Jason (unbeknownst to you) follows in your footsteps.
“Do you want me to call you a cab, or can I drop you off?”
She shakes her head and is about to say something before Jason interjects,
“I can take her home.”
Both you and the girl turn around and stare at him and you quickly shake your head, diverting your gaze away from him,
“It’s fine Todd, I’ve got this.”
He sighs.
“Will you just let me help her?”
“Well, I’ve already told you that I’ve got this under control, so I don’t see why you’re being so – “
“Oh - uh, you don’t have to worry about me, I can uh – go home myself.”
“No. I – uh mean, let us take you home just to make sure that everything will be okay.”
A meek smile overtakes her face as you squeeze her hand lightly and you offer a half-smile in return.
“Us?” Jason’s voice perks up and you turn around,
“Well, I don’t have a car. If you want, I can come with you and drop her off at her place but – “
“Yeah, sure. Come on.”
His voice is clipped as he moves past you both, turning around the end of the hallway, leading you both to quickly follow him as well.
“Wait. I never asked you for your name.” You gently rest place your hand on her shoulder, making her stop and quietly giving her name,
“It’s Anna.”
...
By the time you’ve left Anna’s apartment complex, the small talk in the car dwindles down as you both sit, unnerved in the dimmed light of the car, the silence suffocatingly awkward. It doesn’t change until he pulls up to the curb, facing the entrance to your apartment building.
“Thanks.”
It’s quiet enough that you didn’t expect that he’d actually hear you. Let alone, grab your wrist before you leave, an incredulous expression on his shadowy face.
“Thanks? That’s it. You’re not going to say anything about what’s just happened?”
“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well neither do I. Look. Thanks for dropping me off and Anna. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”
He doesn’t say anything and let’s go of his hold on your wrist before you quickly slip out of the car, not realising the force at which you push, slams the door shut, making you internally wince. But in your peripheral vision, you can see he doesn’t look at you, with his face staring forward and grip tight on the wheel.
His car’s gone further and turned the corner before you’ve even made it to the entrance doors, and you breath in the cold October air, letting the wind whip across your bare skin, goosebumps rising while standing in a pathetically insulating satin dress, your thoughts pummeling through your mind without fully understanding them and you sigh again.
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“What did you say to him after that?”
“Babs, I’m already – “
You stop midway through your hushed conversation with Barbara to see a disheveled Jason noisily weave his way through the shelves, towards the table at the back of the library you had occupied with Barbara.
“Sorry, I – “
“If you weren’t really going to care about this assignment, you should’ve said something before showing up thirty minutes late.” You deadpan, voice steely and brows furrowed.
“Will you fucking listen to me?” he breathlessly cuts you off from saying anything else as he drops his books on the table.
“I’ll head out now.” Barbara mutters to you, squeezing your arm and slinging her bag over her shoulder before quietly slipping out of sight. You rested your chin in your propped arm, waiting for Jason to continue,
“Well, what’s your excuse?”
“I don’t have an excuse. I was caught up in call with my father, it ended up being longer than I expected.”
You stare at him for a moment, his eyebrows also furrowed and hair sticking in all directions as he breathes heavily.
“Whatever, just complete the outline of notes I made for you.” You replied, pushing pieces of sticky notes and highlighted papers, that you had been picking at for the past half hour, towards his direction.
In about fifteen minutes, you’re both working in relative silence apart from the occasional remarks on the thesis and clarification on handwritings. There’s also been the perpetual looks on Jason’s part, and regardless of how much you try to block them, it itches at you to confront him about his irritating tendency.
“What Jason? What do you want now?”
His expression is firstly, taken aback, and then he coughs before asking,
“Did you ever talk to the girl after the party?”
You nod slowly, eyes still trained on the table, curving letters on colour-coded sticky notes before replying,
“Yeah, Stephanie’s their R.A, so I went and checked up on them the day after the party, she’s doing fine.”
You think that’s the end of his curiosity, but the pit of anxiety in your stomach and his next question, makes you internally want to bang your head against the alder wood table.
“And, uh, what about Beck?
Now, you stop writing with your pen and look up at him instead, resting your chin on your propped hand again, with a bored expression splayed on your face to try and detract from the internal anxiety, for both yourself and him.
“What about him?”
He doesn’t say anything at first and for a moment you think he might snap like he did in the car a few nights ago, but he only closes his eyes in frustration as you cock your head to one side.
“If you’re wondering if he’s going to face consequences for what he does – then no.”
There’s no verbal response except for a quizzical expression and you almost roll your eyes at him.
“I swear to God Jason, do you live under a fucking rock?”
“I just – look if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then fucking leave it.”
“Maybe if you’d like to stop yelling in the goddamn library, I can fucking say something.” You almost hiss at him, voice seething as you both glare at each other.
“Anyways, you probably know that Beck’s the son of the headmaster, yeah, yeah, anyways, he’s always been a fucking creep around parties, but he’s never like you know, ever gotten that far.”
Jason raises an eyebrow at your hushed whispers.
“Like, he just trails around parties looking to either fight someone or just annoy them the fuck out but usually someone stops him before he can do something worse. But, still doesn’t mean that he isn’t a fucking asshole anyways – and his dad and him have like the worst fucking relationship ever, he’s threatened to pull him out a bunch of times of school because he’s so shit.”
You lower your voice even further at the last past, that you’re not sure if he can even hear you.
“How do you know all this?”
You shake your head and trail your eyes back to the unfinished notes in front of you.
“That’s unimportant. He’s a whiny trust-fund brat and I don’t know why someone hasn’t punched him yet.”
That silences Jason for a moment. And the moment doesn’t last long before your phone’s alarm blares through the silence of the library and you quickly move to silence it and Jason eyes question you but you don’t respond, instead move to disorderly throw all the pens and highlighters into your bag and grab as many papers you could in one go before quickly whispering,
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Wait – “
“Look. I promised I’d help a friend out with something. I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”
Jason doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before you’ve flitted through the haze of bookshelves out of view.
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“What happened to the guy your dad set you up with?”
“Darian?”
Babs doesn’t look up from her place on the vanity table as she touches up her makeup while you’re sat on the table with a plastic fork prodding the edges of one of the Halloween themed chocolate cakes Babs attempted to bake for the party.
“Yeah, the one with the hair, right?”
“The hair?”
She casts a pointed look at you through the mirror, but you only take in another forkful of chocolate icing before answering,
“Yeah, he had like the most voluminous hair I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“Really? Well he had the most boring personality that I’ve ever fucking seen.”
She barely contains a smile at your comment while her own snarky comment elicits a snort from you but before you can say anything else, the frantic clicking of Stephanie’s (beloved) d’orsay heels against the linoleum floor followed by her quickly making her way into the dimly lit bedroom causes the room to fall into silence.
“You’re not ready yet?”
Her voice holds an accusatory tone and Babs quickly scoffs,
“I’m trying. But somebody keeps distracting me by asking unimportant questions.”
“Excuse me. I’m trying to be a good friend and keep up with my friend’s life.”
“Please. It sounds more like you want to know more about Darian.”
Before you can retort to her statement, Steph’s voice cuts in,
“Darian? Who’s that?”
“A guy I went on a date with a while ago.” Babs replies with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a scarlet lipstick tube from her make-up bag.
“ – That your dad set you up with.” You finish for her and Stephanie laughs.
“Since when is Professor Gordon a dating guru?”
“Since fucking never,” Babs replies, this time, twisting the cap of her lipstick. “It was just some guy in the forensic unit that he probably felt bad for being single and alone, but he shouldn’t have, ‘cause he didn’t have a fucking personality even if he tried.”
“Well that sucks. Anyways, are you both ready?” She pulls out her phone out of the bag she’d brought and starts typing.
“Or, you know, at least tried to be ready?” This time, she eyes you pointedly and you let out a noise of protest while stuffing another forkful of chocolate cake in your mouth.
“I’m sorry not all of us have devoted our whole fucking lives curating every Halloween costume known to man!”
This was something you’d noticed since you’d come back to Gotham and had been forced to attend Halloween parties – nearly everyone you’d encountered was practically obsessed with the celebration – and one of those people was Barbara. So much so, that every year she held a Halloween party and planned it more profusely than you’ve ever seen her do anything else. Her love also came with a heightened scrutiny for your enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the holiday.
Which was why you were currently sat, dressed in a black boat neck dress with a flimsy witch hat resting on your head as you decimated one of Babs’ rejected Halloween cakes – yet the worst part was that it was currently early December (midterms being pushed back made it impossible to have it in October) and the last thing you’d wanted was to attend this party but Babs had personally threatened to drag you there to complete her and Steph’s wish of doing a group costume.
“It’s only you, you know.” Steph retorts, head cocking to one side and blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go, let’s go!”
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About three hours later, you’ve found yourself nursing a cup of cheap bar (the number, you’re pretty sure that you’ve lost count of), eyeing a clique of literature students, who are currently in the midst of an argument while you stand in the corner of the room, trying to avoid them recognizing you out of their peripheral vision.
“What’re you doing?”
“What the – “ You quickly turn around to see a tall figure dressed in black staring down at you quizzically, and then you realize that it’s Jason Todd.
“Todd, what the fuck do you want.” You hiss – not at all in the mindset to have a conversation with him at the moment – while trying to remain quiet enough so that you don’t attract any unwanted attention.
“I should be asking you,” He taunts back. “You’re the one sulking around the party and hiding in places.”
You don’t try to reply to his response but offer another front of argument that throws all sensibility of your previous claim of not wanting to fight Jason out of the window.
“I don’t fucking understand, why can’t you just leave me alone?”  
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re blocking everyone’s way.”
“Well, I’m not moving. So, they can find another way.”
“Are you fucking serious,” His voice raises. “You’re actually acting like a – “
“Shut up. Will you.” You hiss, pushing both of you further into the corner, so the bi-fold doors hide you better from the view of the group.
“What are you – “
“Morgan and his stupid friends keep trying to argue with me about some shit literature and won’t leave me alone.”
“Why?” There’s an edge to his voice which you pretend not to hear by avoiding his eyes.
“Beats me.”
He falters at the hostility of the comment – or lack thereof and you don’t say anything else but instead move to carefully peer pass the maple doors to scan for the group you’ve been avoiding amongst the mass of people in the room and as soon as you can’t see them you quickly move past Jason, to the to the cantilever staircase, without registering Jason’s footsteps trailing behind yours until you’ve reached the top and the overwhelming music and yelling from the party subdues a little and you let out a breath of relief before you see Jason also reaching the top of the stairs.
“Are you fucking following me?”
“No. Barbara and Stephanie were looking around for you and I was helping them.”
That lessens your anger a little and then confusion settles.
“Why?”
“I wanted to apologise to you.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and find yourself a little speechless.
“I – I meant why were they were looking for me but go on.”
“Oh,” You think you see his cheeks tint pink a little but with the dim lighting dancing shadows on his face, you’re not sure. “Well, I wanted to say sorry about the last class we had with Gordon.”
He takes a pause to slightly mess with his hair by running a hand through it.
“You were right about Bukowski – I – I don’t know why I said all of that shit.”
Looking back at this moment, you think it’s not your brightest because somehow his rather heartfelt confession falls almost deaf on your ears and somehow the narrative in your mind shifts to something else entirely.
“Is this some sort of joke, Todd?”
“What?”
“Did Morgan put you up to this shit? I know you and I don’t get along but siding with him is real fucking low, you know?”
“I – “
“I can’t fucking believe that you’re listening to all their bullshit and agreeing with them. It’s so – “
“No. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cuts you off and his voice raises considerably. “I’m trying to fucking apologize to you and all your doing is being a bitch again.”
That silences you, but he continues.
“You know, I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to understand what I did to fuck up with you, I’ve asked Barbara and Stephanie and – just, fuck, why did I listen to Dick?”
He mutters the last part, but you catch it anyway but still no response forms in your head at all, instead new questions pop-up as Jason runs another frantic hand through his ruined hair before quickly thundering down the stairs, leaving you…
You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling but cold is one of them as you pull the pathetic lace sleeves down your arm to try and warm yourself but nothing happens and maybe you feel your eyes too heavy to keep open as tears brim at the corners.
“Hey – are you okay?”
Babs’ voice causes your head to snap upwards as you watch her quickly scaling the stairs, eyebrows furrowed together, and you offer no response until she reaches the top and extends her arms to pull you into a hug.
“You were right. Halloween really isn’t your holiday.”
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“Could you please stay behind for a moment?”
Gordon asks of you as you’re heading out of the hall, and the pit of anxiety resting in your stomach throughout the class, blooms further as you wait on the side until all the hall empties and its just you and Gordon.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, until he finally sighs and looks at you with a hard expression – one you’re all too familiar with from when you were little –
“Concerning Jason,”
You nod. Since your argument two days ago, you haven’t seen him, and the guilt seeped in farther when his spot well behind you remained empty the entire lesson.
“He’s pulled from your partnership.”
“W-what?”
“He came to talk to me, saying that he can’t continue to work with you anymore on any further projects, and the last one I paired you up on should definitively be the last.”
“Sir, I – “
“Look, I don’t like to meddle in the private lives of my students, but this situation is too tiring for me not to say that whatever problem you and Jason have; fix it. I always find both your work fascinating and that goes for the assignment you both submitted before and I simply cannot allow your own vanities to cloud judgment over the fact that you and Jason are paragons at literature and in my books, are too quick-witted to allow this talent to be lost amongst petty arguments.”
“I know, I – “
“So, I hope you’ll resolve this issue before next week’s lesson?”
“I – yes. Yes, I will.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
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“Can I come in?”
The situation that you’re currently in rolls over you in waves of guilt and anxiety as you stand in front of Jason, in a beige coloured hallway as he idly stands with the apartment door halfway open, hesitant at your words or more so at how you’re standing in front of his apartment with worn boots and a heaving chest. You’d finally taken heed of the advice offered from Gordon, Steph and Babs and even consulted Dick and mulled it over with your own guilt before trekking all the way to his apartment.
“Sure,” His voice sounds removed – apathetic enough that you have to refrain from wincing, as he opens the door further to let you in. “Are you okay?”
You don’t hear him as your boots echo against the hardwood floor as you enter the apartment building and the sudden realization that this is the first time you’ve seen his apartment settles in as you eye the dimly lit space, with books scattered on the coffee – most of them are torn, something you’ve always found a little endearing, though you won’t admit it. The room is an oddly home-y mixture of warm beige's and deep browns that you would’ve kept staring at if he hadn’t called out your name again.
“What?”
“I asked, are you okay? You’re red in the face and panting.”
“Oh, oh, yeah, I walked all the way here and the elevator was out of service, so I used the stairs.”
“Why did you walk, nearly twenty blocks?” He furrows his brows and you let out of a puff of annoyance.
“I – listen, I don’t want to argue with you,” You take a step closer and calm yourself before starting. “You – you were right, I was being a complete and total bitch to you without reason at that party and before that. It’s just – “
You stop, and release a chuckle before awkwardly asking, “I’m gonna need a drink to get through this, do you have any?”
Nearly fifteen minutes later, not as drunk as you need to be, but enough that it gives you courage to finally stop beating around the bush and talk to him so you move to see him also standing facing the open windows to the evening sky, the sun setting against the horizon as dusk settles and you motion for him to sit on the floor as you are and he slowly complies.
“Look, I know I’ve been hostile towards you since – “
“Why?” He interrupts, not looking at you and you sputter a little. “Why have you been so hostile to me.”
“Well, you should know, none of it was your fault – well, not directly.” You sigh.
“College was my chance to start over. You don’t need to know all of the other shit, but I just thought that this whole experience would make everything okay and I wouldn’t need to fight for every single thing in my life just to end up being sub-par. And, it was going great.” You slightly chuckle to try not to choke on your words.
“That was, until you came along with your prodigal capabilities in literature and it felt like everything was falling apart again. Because somehow, suddenly, I wasn’t Gordon’s favourite anymore and I wasn’t at the top of the class – and somehow, I wasn’t enough.” Your voice is a little more choked now as you kept looking forward, even though Jason had started watching you now.
“It just was like my entire belief system just got turned upside down.” You release a breath and let the silence settle after your words.
“Fuck, I just unloaded a crap-ton of shit onto you, and you probably don’t understand any of it. I mean, I’m drunk so I don’t understand either.” You laugh and try not to cry, even though you’re pretty sure you will.
“No, I think I understand sort of, too,” He replies, voice softer than you expected and you’re more surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re not completely wrong about the whole belief system thing there, you know, Gordon’s classes meant the same thing to me too and I just wanted to enjoy something without having to fight my way for it but boy, did you make that hard.”
A breathy chuckle escapes you as he stops talking and you both sit in the silence until he pipes up again,
“If we’re trying to mend this whole thing then maybe you should want this back too,” His voice is cryptic as you furrow your brows in confusion and stare at him with a lost expression as he stands up to walk away and disappear into the hallway, out of your sight before quickly returning with something clasped in his hand while you raise an eyebrow at him.
“You dropped this in my car when we were heading back from the party with that whole thing with Anna. Dick found it the next morning and had a whole field day about it.”
In his palm, rests a single earring piece shaped like an olive branch which you thought you’d lost in the chaos of the party and you almost laugh.
“You know, I’m gonna pretend this isn’t too creepy and thank you for giving it back.”
“I was trying to give it back to you but you never wanted to have a single conversation with me so,” You roll your eyes before picking up the earring and hooking it back through your ear even though you didn’t have the other one on.
“Right, I get it, I suck.”
That causes him to laugh as he settles back down again next to you and he doesn’t look at you before saying,
“No, you’re not as annoying as I originally thought.”
You echo a ‘hey’ and lightly punch him and the silence envelopes you both – softly, and there’s a moment of peace you think you’ve both settled in and it feels nice.
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le fin
(pt.2 will come)
264 notes · View notes
x-reader-theater · 3 years
Text
A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts
Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader
Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser
Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.
Word Count: 7520 words
A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes​ . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.
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"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream
"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again." 
"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod. 
"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say. 
She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!" 
You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes. 
"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you. 
"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up. 
The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 
He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs. 
You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms. 
"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more. 
It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well. 
"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet
You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now. 
You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed. 
You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man. 
"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him. 
When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips. 
"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably. 
He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his. 
"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book. 
"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod. 
"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."
"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave. 
You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."
"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited. 
You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."
"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin. 
"Really? When was that?" you ask. 
"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly. 
You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."
He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."
You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."
"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile. 
"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?" 
"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile. 
"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears. 
"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin. 
"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods. 
"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-" 
Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly. 
"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding. 
"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim. 
A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]." 
You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number. 
“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure
You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you. 
"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod. 
"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."
"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around." 
You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around. 
"How did you know to do that?" you ask. 
He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding. 
"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."
Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."
"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."
You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. 
You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!" 
He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?" 
You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone. 
"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow. 
He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe. 
"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you. 
You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card. 
You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is. 
"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."
"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones. 
Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence. 
"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."
You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck." 
He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.
"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet
You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you. 
"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago. 
"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods. 
"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says. 
"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.
"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?" 
Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod. 
"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods. 
He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?" 
You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."
"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways. 
You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile.  He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.
"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."
Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin. 
"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door. 
"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet
You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in." 
The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you. 
You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front. 
"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh. 
You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?" 
Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."
You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up. 
Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?" 
You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."
Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him. 
"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh. 
"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."
The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.
You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him. 
"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona
It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading. 
It's nice. 
"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night
"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park. 
"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace. 
Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands. 
"Spencer what-" 
"Shh!" 
You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs. 
You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you. 
In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful. 
"What is this?" you ask, breathless. 
He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."
You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."
Spencer frowns. "Huh?" 
"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides. 
"Las Vegas," he says and you smile. 
"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly. 
"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face. 
You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck. 
When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice. 
"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice
You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant. 
"[Y/N]!" 
You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide. 
"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again. 
You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter. 
"What's wrong?" he asks plainly. 
"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud." 
Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains. 
You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!" 
Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."
You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman." 
Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs. 
"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging. 
You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."
Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."
Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!" 
Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant. 
"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet
"Mr. [L/N]?" 
You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!" 
"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact. 
You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?" 
Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week. 
"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page. 
You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"
"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that. 
"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-" 
But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!" 
You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?" 
"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet. 
You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."
Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands. 
"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet
That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place. 
"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed. 
"Huh?" 
"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?" 
"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."
You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?" 
You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking. 
Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.
"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."
You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…" 
Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you. 
"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet
"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal. 
He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."
"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."
"But what about the people we can't save?" 
You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."
Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy. 
"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing
You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already. 
But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms. 
"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis
"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls. 
He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?" 
You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss. 
He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."
Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?" 
"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then." 
"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her." 
Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy. 
"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout. 
"Love you too!" he shouts back. 
"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream
It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests. 
Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk. 
After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone. 
"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver. 
"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone. 
"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-" 
"Someone's shooting up the school." 
Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open. 
"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?" 
You go to answer, but the words die in your throat. 
"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line. 
Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face. 
"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away. 
He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!" 
You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…" 
"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops. 
"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name. 
Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."
You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency. 
After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line. 
You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?" 
"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks. 
"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod. 
"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word. 
"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."
You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip. 
You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk. 
You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love. 
You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening. 
You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed. 
"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest. 
"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt." 
Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!" 
Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."
Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?" 
You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."
Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it. 
"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."
You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart." 
"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former. 
Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room. 
Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot. 
You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder. 
You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"
You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!" 
"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know." 
"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing
"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!" 
Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws." 
You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not. 
"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit. 
You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after. 
You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her. 
When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!" 
"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."
She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?" 
Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you." 
She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him. 
"And I love him," you reply. 
"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night
210 notes · View notes
theyoutubedork · 3 years
Text
“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not too,”
Masterlist
The one where you get the vaccine, and boyfriend!Harry comforts you when you get really bad side effects.
Trigger warning: COVID times, pain, mentions of needles, and LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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A/N: ok, so I haven’t written anything for tumblr in a while, I’ve been writing on wattpad a little, but I’m lacking inspiration on that front, so I’ve been flocking to Tumblr once again. Instead of finding inspiration for the story I’m writing on wattpad, I’m gonna just completely procrastinate and write something entirely new instead. Obviously my brain has the best ideas so here we are.
WARNING: (PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING)
this is based off of my personal experience with getting the jenssen (Johnson and Johnson) vaccine, which is what inspired me to write this story. I had a very tough go with the side effects of the vaccine. I’m fine now and I am not saying that you shouldn’t get this vaccine. Obviously this is a slightly dramatized version so that it is easier for you guys to understand. These side effects only lasted for a few hours within the first 24 hour period of getting this vaccine, which is very common and likely to happen. It just knocked me for a bit of a loop, that’s all. The amount of pain I experienced was something that I was willing to go through so I can get vaccinated. It is was very much worth it. Please get vaccinated, and please be safe.
——————————————————————————
As soon as you walk through the door, you see Harry’s head spring up from behind the couch. His hair is slightly messy, evidence of one of his random, mid-day naps. His eyes immediately soften, looking at your face, which is twisted from the small discomfort you felt in your arm. You had to go alone because the vaccination site had told you so, and you didn’t want Harry to wait for you in the heat for god knows how long. Harry immediately gets up and gives you a tight embrace as soon as you put your belongings onto the kitchen counter. He lets out a quick sigh of content, being a bit more touch-starved lately, which he doesn’t really know the reason for. He finally brings his head from the crook of your neck, and melts at the sight of your adorable puppy-eyed stare.
“How did it go? I was so worried about you love, wish I could’ve been there to hold your hand,” he coos. His hand pets your head, trying to soothe you from any remaining nervousness, which admittedly, you still were. He knew that you severely disliked needles, especially when getting shots. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a flu shot or blood work, you always had to have your head turned away. Thankfully you aren’t nearly as bad as you used to be. When your were younger, you would scream and cry. There was even one time when you were super young, that an extra nurse had to hold you down like a stereotypical psycho-medical horror film. Screaming bloody murder just for protection against measles. Eventually you grew out of that phase, only having to have your mother rub her hand on your back to try and distract you.
Your mother did that a lot actually. Whenever you were upset, she would always give some sort of physical contact to remind you that she was there. Her most common ways of this type of affection was either rubbing your back or circling her thumb on the back of your palm. However, if you would get hysterical, she would even put her hand on your head and scratch your scalp or even run her finger along the bridge of your nose. She learned this from one of you day-care teachers, who used this tactic to make you finally fall sleep during nap time. Upon reflection, it definitely could seem strange to others, but for some reason your mother always calmed you down with these methods, even when you became an adult. Obviously she doesn’t do this nearly as often, given that you can control your emotions better than you could when you were a kid, and the fact you didn’t live with her anymore.
You are pulled out of your thoughts when Harry wraps his arm around your side to bring you closer. You immediately wince as his arm wrapped around your left arm, squeezing it tightly, making the arm already more sore.
“Harry, my arm,” you mutter, and he quickly lets go, scanning over your features quickly to make sure you weren’t in pain. After you give him a goofy smile, he chuckles and gives you a small peck on the lips.
“Sorry love, didn’t mean to hurt you.” He murmurs, pinching your cheek before grabbing your hand.
“Well now that you’re home, we can finally start that show you wanted to watch. I already went to the store and got you some stuff, just in case you get any side effects.” He rambles excitedly, plopping onto the couch before dragging you down towards him, your limbs already entangled with his. He adjusts slowly, making sure your left arm isn’t pressing up against anything too harshly. He pulls a blanket hanging on the backside of the couch over the two of you. You don’t let this distract you from giving him a narrow-eyed look due to his last statement. He sighs, noticing this,
“I know-“ he starts but you interrupt him,
“It’s very sweet that you went out and got stuff for me, but you know I don’t like if when you go out by yourself.” You say, tracing your fingers over his anchor tattoo as you continue, “But, you are an independent young man, who can do whatever he wants, so just text me before you go out and do that stuff ok? Don’t want anything bad happening to you,” you say softly, looking up at him with a worried look. He lets out a small “aww” as he grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, peppering small kisses on your knuckles before he looks at you with loving eyes.
“I know, you’re right, but you don’t have to worry about me love,” he says, wrapping his hand lightly around your neck, pulling your head closer so he could give you a small kiss on the forehead. You rest your head on his chest, facing towards the tv. You pick up the remote off the coffee table, turning on the TV to start scrolling though Netflix.
“I’m always gonna worry about you, I love you too much not to,” you say somewhat absentmindedly, since this was something you say to Harry all the time. He constantly begged you not to worry about him, and you always say there is no possible way you could not worry about him. Not just because he’s your celebrity boyfriend, but because obviously you will always worry about the people you love. People may see that as a bad thing, but it just means that you always want the best for the people you care about, and that you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to them.
You feel Harry’s ring-less hand, (he must’ve taken them off when he went out so he wouldn’t face any more risk of recognition; people are way too observant for their own good) find it’s way into your hair, lightly sifting through it.
‘Harry’s hands are surprisingly soft for someone who plays instruments as often as he does,’ you thought.
Ever since he found out about your mom playing with your hair, and other types of physical affection whenever you got upset, which he found adorable by the way, he had started to do the same, except at any given moment, not just when you got upset. You didn’t comment on it, but you secretly revel in it. He always was touchy-feely, but this was much more personal and intimate, and the way he pays extra attention to you makes you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you.
“You still shouldn’t worry about me so much,” he says, knowing full well that he will never be able to stop you. He knows that you worry about him for the obvious reasons, and that you would honestly be a bad girlfriend if you didn’t. He is one of the most famous people in the world, at least according to famousbirthdays.com.
After a few minutes of silence you hear Harry speak again,
“You know you’re the best girlfriend in the world right?” Harry says cutely, curling a strand of your hair around his fingers.
You let out a small laugh. He asked you this all the time, as if he never asked you the question before. You always brush off this comment, and this time is no different.
“No I am not,” you scoff, selecting play on the screen, the Netflix logo filling the screen. You feel Harry tug on your hair enough so he could make you look at him. This action makes your face heat up like the surface of the sun, making you try to look away from him.
“Look at me, love,” he whispers and you reluctantly comply. You see him with a tight lipped smile that rested below the apples in his cheeks. His eyes were slightly closed from how much he was smiling.
“I mean it, I know I tell you all the time, but you really are the best girlfriend in the world, you’re always so worried about me, making sure I’m ok,” he firmly states, scooping your stray baby hairs out of your face, “you’re like my bodyguard,” he chuckles. You raise a teasing eyebrow and he begins to laugh a little harder at your expression.
“Hey! You are like, the cutest bodyguard I’ve ever had,” you let out a small giggle at this, making Harry smile even wider.
“Damn right, I’ll kick everybody’s ass just for you babe,” you chuckle, air-punching the air aimlessly. Harry laughs loudly at this, giving you a peck on the head.
“I know you will, lovie,”
*
*
*
Later on in the evening, Harry had finished making dinner, and you were sprawled out on the couch. You usually would be in the kitchen with him, but for some reason you just didn’t want to move. Harry didn’t pay any mind, knowing that the vaccine you got was a single shot, meaning it was going to be a more potent dose. This also meant that you would probably be experiencing more severe symptoms than he did when he had gotten his two shot vaccine. He wanted you to get the same one as him, but he knew that the place you were setting up your appointment only had the single shot doses, and that you didn’t want to have to go through two rounds of needles.
He was only away for 25 minutes, so when he rounded the corner to enter the living room, to say that he was concerned was an understatement. He saw you, sprawled on the couch, your face scrunched together in pain as you tried to get comfortable. Your chest was heaving up and down at a not so steady pace. He set the plates in his hands on the coffee table before crouching down to make his face level with yours.
“You ok lovie? Dinner’s ready,” he said in a hushed tone, placing his hand on your forehead to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. However, when his hand reached your forehead, he noticed that the hair was glued to it, your forehead slightly slick with sweat. You let out a small groan of pain as your response. He immediately placed the back of his palm against your skin, not caring about your sweat. Not a fever, but not too far from one.
“Baby why didn’t you change into something a bit lighter?”
“I was going to but then I just didn’t want to get up. Or...move.” You whined. Harry’s face softened when he saw your cute little pout that you do whenever you get lazy or tired. Or both.
“Okay well do you wanna have dinner then get changed, or get changed and then have dinner?” He says.
“I wanna move as little as possible, so let’s eat dinner and then I’ll change.”
“Ok lovie...now eat before it gets cold.”
*
You were barely able to keep yourself up by the time you finished eating, and Harry immediately sprung into action. He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and put everything somewhat away before he rushed back to you. He had to catch you slightly since you were trying to make it to the bedroom before he came back.
He gingerly helped you out of your clothes and tucked you into your bed. Quickly shedding his clothes, and slowly getting into bed, trying not to dip the bed drastically. You immediately curled into his arms after he turn out the lights, and you let out small groans every once and a while.
“It’s alright angel, you probably won’t sleep super well tonight but I’ll be right next to you if you need anything. Okay lovie?” He murmurs, bringing his left arm around your waist to slowly trace circles at the bottom of your spine, soothing you greatly. You let out a small hum of understanding before nuzzling into his chest more, letting out a small sigh.
“You know you’re the best boyfriend in the world right?”
161 notes · View notes
libradusk · 3 years
Text
Touch Starved | Jesse
Word Count: 6.8k
Pairing: Jesse x Reader
Summary: A night in a Coruscant hotel gifts you plenty of quality time with your lover (and a few noise complaints as well)
Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, mention of alcohol, AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), established relationship, some playful sexual power play, petnames galore, 69 action, a few light spanks to the backside and some tender shaaaaaaaggin’. (And Libra’s frequent overuse of italics.)
a/n: dedicated to the one and only @morganas-pendragons​, congrats on finishing your third year of uni Kayla, I’m so proud of you! <3
And of course, a huge thank you to everyone who has continued to support my writing. It’s been a really horrid couple of months for me, but slowly, things are starting to improve. Thank you all for being understanding while I take a much-needed continued break from social media.
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CT-5597
Jesse
Jesse who is infamously cocky and funny, if not dangerously outspoken and headstrong during even the most tense of situations. Jesse who is renowned for caring so deeply and so fiercely for what he believes in, and loving even fiercer than that. Jesse, who will never hesitate to be the first on the dance floor at 79’s and the last to leave.
Jesse, the soldier, the brother, the undeniably charismatic individual. The man whose smile would warp the lines of the tattoo draped across his cheekbone with how widely it stretched.
Jesse, who everyone knew would continue to belt out barrack-born anthems that sung of the glory of the Republic, even after he was turfed out of the bar and sent stumbling through the neon maze of Coruscant’s streets until the rising sun inevitably forced the migraine from within his skull.
Though no soul who met him could ever even hope to deny that Jesse was a character, these descriptions and stories told fondly over the shoulders of comrades and acquaintances alike barely scratched the surface of the Jesse you knew.
You can see him now, slipping out of the bravado and bellowing laughter even as he throws it back alongside Fives on the dancefloor, a drink in his fist and a grin that doesn't quite light up his eyes the way it usually does. His gaze stumbles under the weight of the lights and music until it gives way to an expression that looks more detached than enraptured towards the music and movement enveloping him. Within another beat however, it has dragged its way over to you, and finally (and perhaps mercifully), Jesse appears to bloom more into himself the longer it rests on your seated form.
You throw him a pursed smile over your drink, knee bouncing underneath the table. Anticipation and concern peppers your nerves and drives the way your fingers twirl your straw between them. All around you, his brothers continue to laugh and joke between themselves, none the wiser to the energy crackling unspoken across the stretch between the booth and the dancefloor, simply grateful for the fresh taste of decompression bestowed upon their squadron by recently granted leave. Beside you, Kix’s elbow knocks into your side as he adjusts his posture to spread out into a more comfortable position. The medic is quick to apologise, but he needn’t have bothered; your attention is firmly glued elsewhere and as he follows your stare, he soon sees why.
You miss the way Kix smirks warmly into his pint as he turns to recount another tall tale to the troopers sharing the table, ensuring that he unravels the story in such a way that he sweeps up the remnants of their attention with a timed wave of his wrist and a comically timed jab at Hardcase’s expense.
It only takes a matter of minutes more until the other Jesse, your Jesse, steps out of his boisterous skin and slinks over to you.
The surface of his bare hand feels scorching hot as you rise to meet him halfway and grasp it with your own. Your palm is chilly from nursing your drink, the same one that now sat barely touched and long forgotten atop the crowded table. Jesse’s appears to radiate with the heat of a sun in comparison, clammy and blistering as it engulfs your own whilst its twin all but throws his half-empty glass of liquor onto a nearby waitress droid’s tray.
It teeters for a moment before tumbling over and sending a sticky cascade spilling over the side of the metal disk towards the floor below.
There's little time left to waste. You're not content to simply sit back and sweat out the minutes until you can have him completely alone this time, done with sitting back until the alcohol burns your throat and the flash of lights drowns out the grainy buzz in your temples.
Grabbing him more firmly by the hand now, you move to tug him past the straggling group of wide-eyed troopers that have congregated in the wake of Jesse’s stride. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care anymore if they talk, not while your pulse is twisting louder in your ears with each brush of his thumb against your wrist.
The moment the chill of night time air hits his lungs, the hidden Jesse emerges completely, eyes honeyed but focused as the last few curls of boyish laughter die on his tongue. He shifts his grip to lace his fingers with your own as you weave between the lingering bodies outside. Most here pay little attention to the pair of you, too concerned with casting their own troubled gazes towards the city skyline as they smoke contraband cigarettes and turn over glass bottles between bruised knuckles.
You try to choke down the strange feeling rising in your throat at the sight, focusing instead on the warmth that continues to radiate from Jesse’s body as he trails down the street closely behind you. Despite the charged air that surrounds you both, it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve yet to actually speak a word to him since entering the bar, his late entrance alongside Fives meaning that you had already been swamped with the attention of familiar faces, all of whom were equally eager to unwind and catch up.
But now, as you sneak a sideways glance at him and catch just how tightly his blacks seem to cling to the defined muscles of his torso, you feel that if you were to open your mouth in anything more than a smile, you wouldn’t be able to trust what your brain would make you say, or do for that matter.
Your chest feels so tight with emotion that even breathing feels like a strained action. It had been a tough few weeks, and right now all you wanted, all you needed, was your Jesse all to yourself in the self-made sanctuary only privacy could help you build. A squeeze of your hand assures you that through his tipsy intrepidity, he most certainly feels the same way.
Jesse remains uncharacteristically silent as you hail down an air taxi, though you can clearly feel his eyes on your face in your peripheral vision as you lean forward to speak to the driver through her open window. You attempt to flash him a smile once you finish relaying the last of your directions, but it comes out more strained than you intend, even as you squeeze his hand back in reassurance. Tired is truly an understatement, and for a moment, it dawns on you that there’s a real possibility you might end up falling asleep mid journey.
That is, until you feel the wide, warm expanse of Jesse’s palm deliver a gentle pat to your backside. The action succeeds in ushering you into the back of the cab, and having you feel very suddenly awake again in one fluid motion.
You don't need to shoot him a raised eyebrow over your shoulder to know that he's smirking.
A sharp, very clearly fake cough from the front of the taxi cuts down the heat spreading downwards from your face before it can settle deeper. In the reflective surface of the rear view mirror, you catch the disgruntled glare of the now very unimpressed Twi’lek cabbie. The twitch of her pursed lips accompanied by the dull tap of her blunt, painted fingernails against a bright red sign that sits mounted on the dashboard.
Your stomach flips in embarrassment as you scan over the bold printed words that are listed upon it.
NO EATING/DRINKING
NO SMOKING
NO SASSING THE DRIVER
NO WANDERING HANDS
Where Jesse was smirking before, he now struggles to suppress on a snicker as he stretches to practically lounge across the backseat, clearly unbothered by the stink eye currently being thrown directly his way now by the woman in the driver’s seat - even daring to throw up his hands in mock-innocence in return. For a moment you’re concerned she might actually throw you both back out onto the curb, but instead, you’re just met with another exaggerated roll of her eyes before she throws the well-loved vehicle into reverse and takes off down the neon-painted highway.
With a ghost of a sigh, you lean back slightly into the worn leather seat as the streets of Coruscant rush past your window in a blur of colour and noise. Your gaze slips past the glass, to the apathetic, focused expression of your driver, and finally to your lover once more. Whilst dizzying to watch through the smeared windows, you find yourself helplessly bewitched with how the sharp glow of the city lights splash and dissipate almost rhythmically across Jesse’s face and body. Red, fuchsia and blue drip down his skin before disappearing into the void of his blacks each time you pass under a particularly bright stretch of neon-signage. Whilst beautiful, the glow also highlights just how deeply cut the bags under his eyes are now.
A not-so-subtle squeeze to your thigh unravels the grip twisting around your heart before it can truly poison your mood.
The tenderness in Jesse’s eyes cuts through the dark interior of the cab more brightly than any streetlamp could ever hope to, lips cocking into a half-smile as his attention shifts completely to you once more.
“You okay, mesh’la?” his voice is barely above a low purr as he finally speaks, but it vibrates down to your stomach as though he’d growled it in your ear, his thumb rubbing a mindless, but soothing pattern just above the joint of your knee all the while.
“Yeah... are you?” you shift slightly to face him better, the bottom half of your body twisting somewhat awkwardly against the grasp of the seatbelt clamped across your middle. You reach downwards to curl your own digits gently over his wrist, eyes momentarily darting back towards the driver’s mirror on instinct. There's a brief second where you’re certain you catch her tattooed brows furrowing further and those sharp eyes dart to catch yours in warning, but now at least, they remain focused on the busy road ahead, and you risk leaning over closer towards the trooper beside you. His smile gives way to a subtly weak grin in response.
“Just peachy.” 
Half lies from both of you, but there's little time to dwell on them as the air taxi finally pulls into a stop outside your destination.
There's somewhat of an awkward pause as Jesse struggles to get the door open, the lock jamming with his first attempt and sending his shoulder barrelling against the window with an inelegant thump. You cringe a little at the sound, but the Twi’lek leaning over the shoulder of her seat seems unphased as she silently holds out her hand, stony face sporting the same cocked eyebrow and deadpan expression that you’ve become uncomfortably familiar with.
Your strained thank you is met with little more than a grunt of mild disapproval as she turns to fiddle with the radio embedded in her dashboard, effectively ending your transaction and ordering you from her car as she throws your handed credits into a worn-looking box perched on the passenger seat.
“Well she was cheerful.” Jesse’s voice is playful as he moves to grab your hand in earnest now as you approach the towering building in front of you. Despite the lightness of his tone and the way you exhale through your nose in mock-exasperation towards his joke, the air between you is more charged than ever now that you’re so close to finally being alone together for the first time in weeks.
Or was it months? Time had a funny way of twisting away from you as of late.
Nevertheless, all that stood in your way was a brief check in and elevator ride up towards the room you had hurriedly booked for the occasion.
The hotel itself was modest, sporting simple, clean architectural design and minimal decoration just short of clinical in nature. Not that you cared for the details, all that mattered to you was that it provided a temporary sanctuary for you and Jesse to retreat to for the night, far enough away from the pulsing heart of Coruscant that, for a short time at least, you could pretend there was no war, no constant presence of fear, pain and suffocating army regulations.
Just you and Jesse. Your Jesse.
His resolve winds and snaps the moment your feet cross the threshold of the elevator.
“Mesh’la,” his beloved nickname for you rolls off his tongue almost salaciously as he all but collapses against you, pinning you to the cold stretch of corridor with the press of his body. He groans it against your skin again as his lips meet with your pulse point, grinding against you with an overspill of passion that has you mewl and almost drop your keycard with the force of it. Through the building fog in your mind, you wonder if the fact he can finally announce his affections for you aloud and so openly here is what has finally pushed him over the edge.
Or perhaps it's the way you writhe and claw at him desperately in response, half of your mind seemingly determined to have him take you right here and now before you can even hope to complete the last few steps towards your awaiting hotel room.
“Jesse-” you’re not sure if the drawl of his name that slips from your tongue is meant to be in warning or wanting, but it's quickly swallowed up by the trooper as he finally kisses you.
Maker, does it feel good to taste him again. His unrelenting passion, his warmth, you can’t help but want it all, and he’s ever happy to give it to you - groaning into your open mouth, all teeth and tongue and heart as he hurriedly caresses your thighs, your hips, the back of your neck in turn - fingertips mapping out your body with an agonising familiarity that has your knees buckling and restraint crumbling even more.
Jesse practically growls as you break apart to gasp for air, though your panting does little to deter him from continuing his barrage of kisses, as he angles his head to trail them across your jaw and down the junction of your throat, mouthing his desire against the thrumming beat of your heart.
“Missed having you like this - in my arms - all to myself…” 
Each part of his confession is broken apart by the scratch of his stubble and the nip of his teeth against your skin until he trails off into something intelligible - burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh that sings as much of exhaustion as it does longing.
It's the briefest moment of weakness amidst the suffocating heat of his passion towards you, but it's just enough to allow you to scrape back some semblance of clarity with a shuddering breath of your own.
Delicately, as though he was crafted from glass and not the corded muscle you knew to hide beneath his clothes, you run the fingers of your left hand down the length of his spine, relishing in the shudder that ripples through him in turn.
“Jesse,” your voice already sounds hoarse as you turn to place a kiss against his temple, “let’s get inside of our room and you can have all of me, all night.”
He almost wrestles the keycard from your hands at that.
---
The room itself is as modestly decorated as the rest of the hotel. A brief glance around tells you there’s a basic vanity, a desk, what appears to be the seam and switch of a built in wardrobe, and to the right of the doorway: the entrance to the refresher.
But what truly captures the attention of both of you is the king size bed in the very centre of the room, as well as the open stretch of Coruscant skyline that shines in through the expansive window to it’s left, dappling the navy-coloured sheets with milky diamonds of light.
Jesse grants you mere seconds to appreciate the view before he’s all over you once more.
You find yourself stumbling clumsily backwards against the newly closed door, attempting several times in vain to get the locking mechanism to work through Jesse’s onslaught of kisses. A gasp of what you’re not sure is relief or pleasure (or maybe both) leaves you when you hear it finally click into place just as his lips fasten themselves to suckle at a particularly sensitive spot just above your collarbone.
Each kiss unravels another layer of the Jesse you know and love, each desperate touch and whispered endearment only stoking the fire helping him flare to life in his full glory once more. It's intoxicating and overwhelming in the best way possible, and as he gifts you another taste of the sickly-sweet cocktail that still lingers on his tongue, you’re reminded of the very first time he’d kissed you:
It had been a night not too unlike this one, in which you had finally related to his begging for you to accompany him and the boys on a night on the town. He’d gathered you up in his arms the moment you’d finally relaxed enough to join him on the dancefloor of 79’s, and not long after, you’d backed each other into a corner of the dingy nightclub, with Jesse keening into your open mouth and rutting against you as though struck with the fear that he would never be given another chance to touch you, and the eager remorse of a man that wished he’d done this a long time ago.
Of course, the night had ended with you dragging the drunken tonne of him back to his bunk - though even through his stupor, he’d managed to drag you down after him before passing out at the snap of a finger, face buried securely in the crook of your shoulder the entire night.
And from that point, you couldn’t imagine a future without him at your side ever again.
Jesse’s passion for all he does burns hot, but it's in stolen moments like these, that his touch seems to burn hotter than anything else.
You feel it now as his hands begin to wander once again, tugging at your clothing and gripping at the skin beneath with such a need that it borders on bruising - though you struggle to shrug off how his fingers carry a gnawing tiredness beneath their eager twitching.
The revelation causes a different kind of pang in your stomach, but you force it down and away.
This man deserves to be spoiled.
Shoving half-heartedly at his broad chest, your command only wavers slightly with the struggle to catch your breath as your lips break apart with an audible pop.
“Strip.”
Your head feels light as you step backwards and straighten up your posture as best you can, dishevelled clothing and panting aside. You attempt to give him your sternest face as you issue the demand, but you’re certain you hardly look the part with what you know to be kiss-swollen lips and a chain of love bites adorning your neck.
Jesse hardly fares any better, face ruddy with a blush that creeps down past the high collar of his undershirt, and pupils blown so wide and glassy that they resemble the depths of space itself. His eyes had always stood out to you, even long before the two of you became an item. Though he and his brothers may share the same eye colour, the fire in Jesse’s was everything, it was something you never, ever wanted to see fade.
Those same eyes blink owlishly at you now as you stand firm in front of him, his hands still comically half-raised as though frozen mid-caress. It doesn't take longer than a second for him to whir back into action, however.
His movements are inelegant and rushed as he begins to tear away his shirt from his heaving chest. There's no overt striptease like he’s performed for you before, just pure, unfiltered desperation to feel your bare skin against his own. But even through the clumsiness, you catch the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with thinly-veiled intention - a reminder to you of the strength he possesses - as well as just how easily the role of dominant could be flipped against you with his slightest change of whim.
The knowledge of this only excites you more.
You decide to follow his example and quickly shed your own garments until you’re both down to your underwear. The walls of the room are practically sweating with the desire that thrums between you now, and you both take a shared moment to admire the other in the dimmed glow of the lighting. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you sink into the sight of him, the reality of finally getting your lover alone and bare after so long settling warmly into your core, twisting delightfully tighter with each second that ticks by.
Jesse can’t help but glow with an obvious pride under your hungry gaze. A familiar smirk blooms across his face, spreading in a way that warms his expression further until the mirth crinkles at the very corners of his eyes. You can't help but smile right back despite the distraction of thrumming in your ears and the slickness that's gathering between your thighs.
It's a sensation that's only amplified when his eyes stop raking over your body to lock with your own, staring you down with an energy that's so charged that the breath skips in your throat.
“Shocked you speechless?” his voice sings with a smile as he taunts you, head tilted in a way that highlights the juncture of his throat.
You scoff in response, but step even closer all the same, noses practically touching now as your lips brush together.
“In your dreams, lover boy.”
He raises a thick brow at the cheesy nickname, but you note how his breath catches as you reach out to push lightly at his chest, palm spreading warmly across his pectoral.
“I dream about you a lot, actually,” Jesse’s long eyelashes tickle the apple of your cheekbones as he lightly presses his mouth against yours in a chaste kiss, “in fact, I had an especially lovely dream about you last night.”
Your stomach flutters a little more at the implication, but you press on, edging him gently further towards the bed until the back of his calves hit the edge.
“Yeah?” your fingernails claw down the ladder of his abs, marvelling in the way the muscles flex and tense with your caresses, “why don’t you tell me about it?”
You kiss him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth with a tug that leaves him melting against you, the heat of his arousal peaking past the waistband of his underwear to graze your stomach as you press even closer.
“Well,” his voice is as strained as his breathing now, strong hands moving to stroke gently over your upper arms before his grip suddenly tightens, “I think it's better if I show you.”
The sound of surprise that leaves you as your back hits the mattress is more of a squeak. In the briefest of moments, Jesse has successfully managed to flip the situation to place himself in control once more. A heavy, yet careful weight pins you atop the silken blue sheets by your hips, a reignited, boyish gleam twinkling in his eyes as he grins up at you from the lower half of your body.
That cocky, gorgeous, bastard.
It's frustrating, but you can’t deny he looks good between your thighs.
“Ah, ah, ah~” he tuts at you, effectively cutting off any grumble of annoyance before it can leave your lips, “it isn't polite to cut someone off mid demonstration, mesh’la.”
Maker, give you strength.
His mouth and tongue are dangerously hot as he trails a haphazard stream of kisses over your hips, the sensation is at once too much and not quite enough, leaving you panting and bucking towards the smirking lot of him to no avail. When he begins to all but purr in contentment as he mouthes over your clothed sex, you have to quite literally bite back a scream of frustration.
“Jesse-”
“Shhhhhh…”
You let out a sob as your head falls back to hit the pillow, the hot rush of air against the dampness of your underwear too much to bear. Jesse chuckles in response, thoroughly enjoying inflicting such a sweet agony on you.
“Don't act so mad at me, cyar’ika,” Jesse pouts as he bats those dark lashes up at you, intent on sucking a bruise into your inner thigh as he does, “just tryin’ to appreciate how gorgeous you are.”
There's no sign of joviality in his confession this time, and your heart warms at the sincerity that glows in those heavy-lidded eyes of his.
A quick snap to the band of your underwear parts the lovesick fog accumulating in your head, forcing your attention back to the man currently toying with the elastic of your undergarments once more.
“Focus, mesh’la~,” his tone is purposefully playful, but his eyes dark with challenge as he flashes you another winning grin, “I need your full attention to tell this story, you want to hear how it ends, right?”
Another kiss, this time placed just against where you ache for him most, the fabric posing as the final barrier to your hard-won reward. Fuck, this man was going to kill you.
You’re torn between searching the fog of your brain for another retort, or giving in and letting him wreck you completely and honestly. Jesse doesn't seem too keen to grant you the time to weigh your options, fingers tapping impatiently against the curve of your hip with an inquisitive hum as you agonise over your choices.
The throb in your core wins out, and you relent, albeit a little bitterly,
“I want to know-” you cut off with strangled gasp as he lathes his tongue against the very inner pocket of your thigh, “please Jesse - fuck - please I want you, I need you.”
The man in question stares down at you with satisfied affection as you buck up to chase a phantom touch once again, groaning in annoyance when you find nothing but the weighted press of his forearms caging your thighs open to his mercy.
“...All right.” 
A sigh of relief leaves you at that before you can reign it back, and he chuckles warmly at the sound, stroking tiny circles across your flesh.
“You’ll always have me, mesh’la,” the sincerity in Jesse’s tone makes your breath hitch further as he edges towards where the seam of your underwear meets your left hip, his hot breath causing yet another flurry of goosebumps to rise in its wake, “but let me show you how much it means to me to have you.”
Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Jesse ducks to catch the side of your underwear in his teeth before dragging it slowly downwards. The material tickles slightly as it catches over your thighs, though it's a mere whisper of a sensation compared to the throb that hits you as your dripping core finally is bared to the chill of the air.
Jesse hums appreciatively at the sight of you spread out beneath him as he leans back to finish pulling away your underwear, haphazardly throwing away the offending garment to join the other scattering of clothing that now decorates the carpet. You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows in response, taking advantage of his momentary lapse in focus to nudge your knee against his hip.
“You too, mesh’la.” You roll the nickname over your tongue, delighting in how the blood rushes to his cheeks with a fervour at having his nickname for you thrown right back at himself. 
He scoffs a little at your cheekiness, but indulges your command all the same, practically  leaping from the edge of the bed to stand and unceremoniously yank down his boxer briefs. You attempt to hook your legs around his midsection as he rejoins you atop the bed, but he stops you with a slow shake of his head, caging your thighs open with his arms once more.
“So eager!” he sighs in mock-annoyance as you huff and roll your eyes beneath him, simply chuckling as you edge further into frantic desperation.
Little do you know it's taking every ounce of his own willpower to stop from delving into your cunt like it's his last meal.
Though the groan that leaves him as his eyes flicker down once more gives you an indication of how he's really feeling beneath the bravado. In that moment, the sight and sound of him has you feeling on top of the world despite being pinned from the hips down.
You’ve little time to bask in this feeling for long though, as in a moment, Jesse dives forward like a man starved. You throw your head back with a cry as the hot, wet push of his tongue hits the sensitive folds of your pussy, lapping open-mouthed kisses across the seam of your opening as his nose grazes your clit. Stars above, your head feels heavy as you buck shamelessly, chasing the heat of his mouth as he tilts his head to tongue-fuck you deeper, the burn of his flesh against yours as he holds you down the only thing truly grounding you at this point.
To his credit, Jesse takes your writhing in stride, accommodating the frantic movements of your hips with firm, but loving caresses as he places a particularly heavy kiss right against your clit that leaves you breathily calling out his name. He lets out a particularly needy groan at the sound, one that vibrates directly across your thrumming bundle of nerves and hits you like a shock of cold water to the face.
You shudder back to reality, head still spinning with the promise of a quickly approaching orgasm, but enough renewed sense to prop yourself up onto shaking elbows to take in the sight of him. Jesse looks just as wrecked as you feel, eyes closed as he revels in the taste and feel of you beneath his tongue and fingers. A single jewel of sweat beads down the prong of his tattoo that reaches his temple in what you're not sure is overexertion, or the strain of keeping his own pursuit of pleasure in check to focus on yours.
He’s all but thrusting desperately into the air as you reach forward to gently grasp his jaw with shaking digits.
“Jesse…” you trail off as you catch the way his chin glistens with what you’re not sure is saliva, your essence, or a lewd concoction of both, “let me make you feel good too.”
He’s slack jawed and glossy-eyed, but his body is oddly pliable as you tug him up towards your face for a sloppy kiss that leaves you both moaning and grasping for the other. You’re the one to break away first, shooting him a wobbly grin as you pant to regain your breath. His fingers find your face this time, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you with such wonder that it leaves you blushing once more. He remains speechless even as you break apart with a kiss to his open palm, positioning your body to crawl down his torso until you’re face-to-head with his arousal. Jesse seems to catch on quickly to your intentions, grasping hold of your hips to position your lower half over his face - even gracing your backside with a light slap that causes you to jolt in surprise. You attempt to flash him a glare, but the feeling of his broad palm soothing over the swell of your ass reduces you to hissing in pleasure instead, spine dipping before you can stop yourself from sinking lower towards his waiting lips.
Determined not to be so easily outdone, you move to flatten the length of your tongue against the head of his cock, delighting in the broken groan that shakes his chest as the taste of precum hits your taste buds. You let a moan of your own vibrate against the length of his cock as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper into your mouth, the feeling of his hot, panting breath against your cunt spurring you on. Jesse indulges in the feeling of you for a few moments longer before delving right back into eating you out. You can feel his smirk at the squeak of surprise that leaves you as he roughly pulls you back down to sit on his face, tongue lashing skilfully against your clit in a way that forces you to pull him from your mouth with a gasp for air.
It all falls away from you quickly after that, even as you pump at the slick length of his cock and attempt to focus on the way he twitches against your lips. In mere moments, your vision is stolen from you in a sudden rush of pure pleasure that has you half aware that you’re screaming Jesse’s name towards the ceiling. The trooper continues to lavish attention on you through the waves of your orgasm, tongue firmly lathing against the most agonisingly sensitive part of you as he holds you against him with a determinedly steady hand.
He gently drags the grip of his right hand to pet your thigh as you come down in shuddering gasps, the white slowly ebbing from your vision with the effort of a few slow blinks.
“Welcome back.”
Even in such a compromising position as this, he still has the gall to run his mouth. 
A calculated squeeze to the base of his cock has that taunt trail off into a hiss.
“You’re unbelievable.” Despite the impassive tone of voice you attempt to force out, you still curl into his touch as he slowly maneuvers your spent body to rest against the pillows once more.
“Yep, but you love it.” He winks as he shifts to support himself above you, those powerful forearms of his now caging your shoulders at each side as he places a chaste kiss against your clammy forehead. You can't help the laughter that spills from you as he moves to suddenly nuzzle into the crook of your neck, stubble tickling your already oversensitive nerves until you're pushing at his chest for him to release you.
“Because I love you, Jess.”
His expression melts at your confession, chest rising and falling in time with your own as he stares at you with such a tender longing that part of you almost feels like crying.
If you could block out the world and just stay like this with him, forever, then you would in a heartbeat. You'd tear down every star in the sky a million times over if it meant keeping him safe and loved.
If only you could.
“I love you, so much, cyare.” The sunny warmth of his grin spreads across the entirety of his face then. It's contagious, and instantly lifts you into giggling alongside him as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against your own.
“...Is this how things went in your dream?” Your heart turns to honey as you reach up to trace the lines of his tattoo where they drape over his cheek.
“This is even better.” He whispers the affirmation against your lips before stealing them in another deep kiss.
He grinds lazily against you as the kiss deepens, threading you ever closer together with a moan that has your hand frantically searching to loop your fingers through his own.
“Jesse,” your voice is strained with desire as the tip of his cock grazes against your entrance once again, “as wonderful as this is, I really want you inside me now.”
That pulls a genuine splutter of laughter from him, but he slips his free hand down to wrap one of your thighs around his waist all the same, shifting to his knees to brace himself against you whilst simultaneously keeping you pinned to the pillow with one hand gripping your own.
“Your wish is my command, my needy little love.”
Your breath leaves you with a sudden yelp as he finally snaps his hips forward and eases into you with a deep thrust, his public bone nestling against the swell of your clit as he buries himself to the hilt in your warmth. You catch his smile split even wider at your reaction before he begins to fuck you in earnest, never one to hold back for too long. The stretch of his cock has your eyes rolling and your free hand clawing at his shoulder for something to grip on to, but your body opens up to him effortlessly. 
You’ve danced with him like this so many times now that being connected to him feels as natural as breathing, despite the rolling cries that drip from your parted lips. Jesse drinks them down greedily with a barrage of kisses and growled praise between each thrust.
“That's it baby - keep making those pretty sounds for me.”
He's making plenty of pretty noises of his own, each of them peppered with sigh-like breaths that catch in his throat every time his hips stutter with the threat of losing his last semblance of control.
Hot tears of pleasure begin to gather behind your lashes as you fight to keep your eyes trained on the sight of him pounding into you. Even with the way your mind spins with pleasure, and how the light spilling from the window appears to cling and dance across the deep bronze of his skin in an ever shifting pattern, the thick lines of his tattoo, and the burn of his eyes remain steadfast - streamlining your focus towards the feeling of him grinding upwards against the sweetest spot inside of you again and again until all you can do is babble his name incoherently.
The sight of you coming apart beneath him only pushes him further, though you’re so overwhelmed at this point that you fail to notice how his fingers release your own to dip down between your bodies until the rough pad of his thumb collides with your clit once more.
A second orgasm rips through you with little extra warning - the coil in your stomach snapping so violently that it robs you of any remaining coherency and has you tightening around Jesse’s cock with a silent scream. You hear and feel him hit his peak right behind your own as he tenses with a shout of your name, barely catching himself as he folds over you and buries his cock as deep as he can reach.
And then, warmth: one that spreads across your insides before spilling down the innermost part of your thighs and onto the sheets below.
For a moment, there is only heavy panting as you both struggle to come back down to the present. Jesse breaks whatever silence has crawled between you with a dry-throated chuckle. The hand that had been twisted in the bedsheets beside your head moments before now moves to stroke the back of your head with a clumsy kind of care only Jesse could deliver.
You're still stuffed full of him even as he lifts himself to avoid crushing you, his thumb dipping across the apples of your cheeks to wipe away the loose trails of tears that streak your skin. He clears his throat before speaking, voice tired, but clear enough to reach you.
“You okay?”
You nod in reply, limbs heavy as you raise your arms to loop around his neck and bring him close for a prolonged kiss.
“Need anything?”
You hum in acknowledgment of his concern, but only snuggle closer in response before whispering against the thump of his pulse.
“Only you.”
He chuckles at that before chastely kissing the top of your head and slowly lifting to withdraw from you. You both groan at the loss of contact, but Jesse’s quick to flop down beside you and gather your body up in his arms once more.
“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, cyar’ika.” He traces over the marks left on your skin with an air of sentimentality, dipping his head to kiss over the particularly dark ones left across your neck and collarbone. They're reminders you’ll grumble about when you’re back in the right frame of mind, but you’ll find yourself cherishing them all the same for as long as they decorate your skin.
“Forever then.” You mumble sleepily against the protection his body extends to you, thoroughly spent in every way.
“Forever it is.” 
He’d already made that promise to himself long ago.
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