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#i wouldn't last a week as a nurse
mimirjoo · 1 year
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I hype myself up for my Asian parent-mandated medical-related course by making art for it apparently Fun fact the test tube they’re holding contains culture medium known as a butt-slant (the butt part being the lower flat portion). You stick the inoculating loop with the sample in the butt and you drag it out in a zig-zag pattern over the slant as you pull it out. The more you know (I know you should wear a mask in a bacteriology lab. Shhhh)
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arctic-hands · 9 months
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My last bout of sleep paralysis (which was when I was recently hospitalized for nine days and getting no sleep because literally almost every half hour someone was waking me up for vitals or a blood drawl or to give me medicine or to prod my stomach or the attending bringing in the interns because I'm a great case study or because my infusion pump wanted to make obnoxious noises for no reason) was so horrific that when I told my therapist about it yesterday she visibly paled and freaked out on my behalf. Is that a good sign?
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#no need to read or react just needed to rant about my brain a bit#the next two weeks are supposed to be super exciting with BC giving us a new look and song and music video#it's umk week and my favorite for once has historically great odds of winning and a good chance to do well at eurovision as well#I'm going to see umk live with my dear sister and stay at a hotel so it's like a mini-getout and then I'm going to stockholm and oslo gigs#this is supposed to be best times of the year so far but my brain decided we can't have any of that :)#last year at this same time I got hit hard with depression and the anxiety I've always had got even worse#it got to the point that nothing made me happy or feel anything at all and I just cried all day for weeks#everything about UMK night was blurry and sad because I wasn't talking to my bestie who I've watched eurovision with for 10 years#I just started crying during the Dark Side/ Bad Idea opening and the results felt like nothing#I'll always assiociate Bad Idea with my depression because it was playing on the radio in the nurse's office when I got my meds#anyway I can feel that same darkness crawling back to my brain right now and I'm very scared#my brain decides I don't deserve to be happy and screams about how unloveable and ridiculous and embarrassing and ugly I am#it isn't helping that Joel keeps reposting the most model-looking tiktokers because I always feel a hot gush of shame run through me#and everytime I see a pic of any of their blonde skinny young gfs I just wanna kms#now it's gotten to a point that the voice in my head yells at me that I don't deserve Bc or their music and I should cancel my gig trip#because they wouldn't wanna see a disgusting cow myself being so near the stage not to mention ask for a pic or autograph#and I should just hide in my apartment forever#and everyone who has ever been nice to me is either doing that out of pity or making fun of me behind my back#I can't take this anymore#delete later
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unamused-kookaburra · 5 months
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mrw I had to think of a professional way to tell my mangers they're fucking cooked if they think I'm spending my first friday back doing a 10 hour shift
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wrayah · 2 months
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wriothesley x fem!reader
prompt: An overworked Writohesley finally accepts to get an assitant to help him around. Work begins to become smoother thanks to you, however you also make things harder for Wriothesley thanks to your innocent seductiveness. A small clothing mishap becomes the perfect moment for Writohesley to solve the throbbing problem in his pants.
notes: HERE IT IS THE (somewhat) SEX CRAZED WRIO I PROMISED YOU ALL !! can you guys tell i'm obsessed with this man ?? now please ask me for other characters i have no idea what to write now ( ;´ - `;)
word count: 3.4k
warnings: smut (mdni 🔞), dom!wrio, pet names, penetration, oral, no protection, ejaculation, curse words, handcuffs, overstimulation (kinda?)
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Wriothesley wasn't very fond of the idea of hiring an assistant, he could handle his work all by himself, he had been doing it for a while and could keep going that way. He simply couldn't comprehend why Sigewinne was so insistent, why she kept nagging him and telling him he should get help.
"'You really should consider it!" Sigewinne scolded Writohesley from her seat across from him, her tiny hands holding a cup of warm tea. "As the head and only nurse of the Fortress, it is my duty to take care of the people who work here, and that includes you!"
He chuckled at her puffed cheeks, she looked adorable when she was mad, and it was a challenge to take her seriously sometimes. He sipped his tea before looking at her, smiling.
"I'm okay, you don't need to worry. I don't need help-"
"Yes, you do! I can clearly see that you are extremely tired, and I have caught you working way past time lately!" She interrupted him, her tone stern but also caring. She looked at him in the eyes, dead serious. "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"
His eyebags wouldn't let him lie his way out of this one, he couldn't actually remember the last time he went to bed and woke up feeling replenished. He frowned and looked down, having no answer to Sigewinne's question.
She scoffed at his reaction, closing her eyes and sipping her tea. She then placed her cup down, looked back up at him, and smiled. "Now that we've reached an agreement, I'll ask the guards to put up the flyers."
Writohesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "Fine."
And that's how you got into the Fortress of Meropide as Wriothesley's assistant.
You had been working as the Duke's assistant for a few weeks now, helping him handle paperwork, running errands for him around the fortress, and on the surface, basically helping and doing everything and anything to make things a bit easier for him. It wasn't all that hard, a bit hectic but you actually enjoyed what you were doing.
Your presence had completely changed Wriothesley's routine, he was now able to finish his paperwork in time every day and got to sleep correctly again. Sigewinne had teased him continuously about how he was doing better now thanks to her idea, and he couldn't help but admit that she was right, he did need help.
On top of allowing him to get back on his feet and feel alive again, it was an actual pleasure to have you around. He was reluctant at the idea of an assistant at first, he got to know you however with time and was actually not disappointed. You were a smart and gentle individual, always ready to help and accomplish tasks with a smile on your face, even the tedious ones. Whenever you had free time, you would bring him tea along with some sweets, which he highly appreciated. This imposed a timeout on him, which wasn't actually so bad. He enjoyed chatting with you, whether it was about work or whatever else.
Everything was going well, except for one thing. Everything was great, everything you did was perfect. You were perfect.
Writohesley couldn't keep his eyes off of you at times. Generally, he thought you were beautiful, your smile melted his heart, the way your cheeks reddened whenever you stammered or were unsure softened him, and the way you dressed pleased him, especially when you wore somewhat revealing clothing- shit.
It was hard for him to keep focus on work at times because of you, but forced himself to stay put. He could handle the situation well, but it was challenging at times.
On hotter days, like today, you would wear skirts without tights, leaving your thighs exposed for Writohesley to admire. Your skin looked so soft, and the way they looked when you sat made him want to dig his fingers into them so badly.
He could handle admiring your form, it wasn't the first time he had seen a beautiful woman in his life, he just had to put in a little more effort to stay focused.
He did almost lose his mind at one point though.
He was reading a dossier, holding it with his right hand and toying with his handcuffs with the other, spinning them around. He looked up at you once he was done to give you a new order but he caught you looking intently at his handcuffs, a light blush on your cheeks. Once you noticed his gaze, your eyes darted to his and you lightly cleared your throat, cheeks brightening. Oh, the dirty things that must have been going through your mind.
Ever since then, those same dirty fantasies have invaded Writohesley's mind, making his work, as well as something else, harder. All he could think of was cuffing you up and manhandling you.
He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Focus, Wrio, you need to finish this by noon.
"Is everything alright, sir?" You enquired, sitting across from him also handling a report file.
He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. Your gaze was caring, worried, and so sweet.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, could you get me some iced tea, please?" He needed something to soothe him as well as the growing heat in his pants.
"Of course!" You replied, a big smile on your face. You got up immediately and turned to make your way out of his office. You accidentally bumped some files on his desk in the process though, papers falling to the ground before you.
"I'm so, so sorry! I'll-I'll gather everything!" You stammered, bending down to pick up every loose paper and file, unintentionally flashing Writohesley while doing so.
He could see everything, the back of your exposed upper thighs, your beautifully shaped ass, your laced panties-covered crotch. Oh Archons, how could he keep his composure before such a sight?
Wriothesley cleared his throat again, this time to grab your attention. You squeaked, stood up, and spun around quickly, a messy pile of papers in hand. You were expecting to be scolded for your idiocy. You gulped as you looked into his darkening eyes, his face was deadly serious. You were done for.
"Don't think that what you just did is, let's say, inappropriate?" He questioned, a slight smirk emerging. Your terrified expression turned into a confused one, which he chuckled at. You weren't even aware of what you were doing to him, how cute.
"Your skirt is quite short you know, you should have kneeled down instead." Your eyes widened, realising what had just happened. You frowned and looked down, face becoming as red as a tomato. You placed your hands behind you, covering your behind with the papers.
"I-I'm sorry! I-... I didn't intend to give such a view..." You were so embarrassed you were barely able to pronounce the last part. You sighed ashamed. You wanted to dive into the deepest parts of the sea and stay there.
Toying with you was fun. "You know, it's not the first time your clothes have bothered me. To be fair, you sometimes dress quite inappropriately for work." He took out his handcuffs and began playing with them like last time, catching your attention once again. He grinned, canines showing. "Don't you think that, as your boss, I should reprimand you?"
You bit your lip, intrusive thoughts clouding your mind. That didn't go unnoticed, it only made his smirk grow wider.
"Go on, finish cleaning your mess up." He instructed, eyeing the rest of the papers on the floor. You did as told, kneeling down this time.
He got up from his chair as you placed the paper mountain on his desk. You watched carefully as he came up behind you, you didn't dare to turn around though.
"Hands behind your back."
"H-huh?" You turned your head to look at him, his frame hovering over yours, eyeing you down.
He cocked his eyebrow. "Want me to repeat? Hands behind your back." His voice was stern, he was doing his best to hide his lust.
You did as told, and soon enough you felt the cold feeling of metal around your wrists. He had handcuffed you. You choked a little on your breath, not expecting this to happen. Your darkest fantasies were coming to life, but you couldn't let your mind get the best of you, you were already embarrassed enough.
"You see, being naughty like that isn't very nice, you've been making things hard for me lately." He placed your hands on his clothed dick as he spoke, rubbing against them. Your breathing was shaky, and his pants felt so tight against him, that you couldn't help but imagine what he was hiding underneath.
"Since you're to help me, I thought you could also help me with this." He pressed his dick against your hands once more, letting out a shaky grunt. "Will ya?"
You nodded timidly, still not believing what was happening. "Good. Come on now."
He leads you back towards his desk as if he were leading a prisoner. Being treated this way was making you feel hot and bothered, but you loved it. He put his hands on your shoulders and with slight pressure instructed you to kneel down before his chair, which he would sit on soon after. He began undoing his belt, his pants coming soon after, all the while being attentively observed by you. He chuckled as he saw your big eyes look at his shielded cock, mouth agape with impatience. He finally slid his bottoms down a little, revealing his girthy dick to you, tip slightly swollen and shimmering with precum. You bit your lip at the sight, mouth-watering. He was so close, it was so close.
His hand came to caress your cheek tenderly. "Open your mouth for me, baby. Tongue out."
You opened up, tongue sliding out. You looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His hand travelled up to your hair, grabbing a handful lightly, before tugging your head down towards his dick.
As your tongue finally met his throbbing tip, you flicked it against it, tasting him. Salty but tasty. You began licking his tip, tongue swirling around it, pressing against his slit, doing all you can to take in all of that sweet precum. Wriothesley moaned lowly above you, hand caressing your hair now, encouraging you, praising you.
"Come on, don't be shy, take me in." Your mouth wraps around his wet tip, making its way down slowly. He was thick, but there was so much saliva that you were easily able to swallow him whole on the first way down, making him curse under his breath. You began slowly bobbing your head up and down, tongue against the underside of his dick.
"That's good baby, keep going." It felt so good he couldn't help but let his head fall back, breathy moans and curses leaving his lips as he tugged on your hair, instructing you to pick up the pace. You were doing your very best to go fast, but he was so big and your mouth so small that your cheeks began to hurt and so your pace began to falter.
He looked back down at you with glazy eyes, only to be met with lustful eyes looking back up at him, your mouth around his dick, drool dripping down from it. Fuck. The sight made something snap inside of him, it made him feral.
He got up from his chair, standing up before you, making sure your mouth never left his dick. You let out surprised noises around his cock, making him groan from the vibrations. He placed both his hands on your hair, gripping it hard enough to keep your head still and thrust into your mouth. You moaned around him with each thrust, both from pleasure and from slight pain, but mostly from pleasure.
"Look at me, baby." His husky voice sent electric shocks all day down to your core, making your thighs squeeze together. You looked up at him, the mere sight of his expression being almost enough to make you cream.
You look at him, tears in the corners of your eyes, cheeks red, drool all over, was enough to send him over the edge. He buried himself deep within your mouth and, with a loud groan, his cum sprung out onto your throat and into your mouth.
"Fuck." He panted, thrusting slowly to get every single last drop of his cum out before sliding out.
He grinned as he saw your puffed-out cheeks, your mouth filled with cum. He put his hand on your chin, grabbing it gently. "Swallow. All of it."
Your eyes widened at the command yet you swallowed the thick liquid without hesitation, small tears coming up from how weird it felt when it slid down your throat. He grinned and patted your head. "Good girl."
He picked you up from the floor with ease, making you gasp. He placed you down, feet on the floor, facing his desk, your legs against it. Your hands were still bound behind you, and your wrists started to ache a bit. He pressed up against your back, hands grabbing at your hips as he nuzzled your neck, taking in your fragrance. You tilted your head to the side, giving him enough room to pamper your neck with kisses. He licked long slow strips along your veins. You moaned, your core growing warmer with every passing second.
You felt something hard poke your hands, he was still hard. Mustering up some courage, you grabbed his cock with both your hands, it fits perfectly between them. You started pumping it, long slow, and sloppy strokes. He groaned against your neck, biting down hard. You both moaned and groaned, you from his sucking and biting on your neck, him from you pumping his dick.
He suddenly pulled his hips away, freeing his length from your heavenly grip. One of his hands went to your back, pushing your upper body downward against the table. "Stay there."
"Yes, sir." You whispered, body engulfed in pleasure.
He bent down, face in front of your clothed crotch. He pressed his nose against your wet panties. Oh, you smelled intoxicating. He pulled your panties and skirt down, the cold air of the room hitting your hot pussy suddenly, making you shiver.
Writohesley licked his lips as he admired you in all of your glory, folds glistening from how excited you were. He leaned forward, placing both his hands on your thighs, and lay his tongue flat on your pussy, licking slowly up.
"Mh, you taste so fucking good." He groaned against your folds, suckling on your sensitive bud. You were becoming a mess, unable to control the sounds leaving your body as he lapped at your wet pussy. You almost screamed when his teeth grazed your clit.
He suddenly got up, spanking you with one hand as he did. "Quiet down, will ya. Do you want everyone in the Fortress to know you were being bad? Do you want everyone to know that your boss is punishing you?"
You shook your head no frantically, going to bite your lower lip in order to keep quiet, but he placed one of his hands on your mouth all the way from behind. With his other hand, he pumped his length a few times before lining it up to your entrance, his tip getting wet as he pressed against you. He pushed inside you, not letting a single second go to waste. He needed you. Your moan was muffled by his strong hand, eyes rolling back. He was filling you up so well, touching your cervix with his tip with the first push. His other hand was on the handcuffs, holding them tight to keep you in place. He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his head inside, and then snapped his hips forward, pushing back in violently.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. Your little screams were silenced by his hand, he repeated the same movement over and over again, until you could barely hold yourself up, your legs trembling. His low grunts and your muffled sounds filled the room along with the wet obscene sounds your cunt was making with each thrust.
His grip on your mouth and chains suddenly tightened, his pace picking up. He was practically fucking you into his desk right now, each thrust more powerful than the last. You were barely keeping yourself together, drooling into his hand, eyes barely open, cheeks flushed; you were a mess beneath him, and he loved seeing you like this. With each thrust, he stroke all the good spots, making you come undone rapidly. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him drove him crazy, he wanted more of it, more, more. 
“Look at your tiny cunt, hugging my dick so tightly. Are you coming for me, princess?” You could only moan and groan in response, making him chuckle at your condition. He kept going, his pace never slowing down, milking your pussy of its juices. 
After the second wave of full blown pleasure washed over you, your legs began to wobble, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore and your knees started to bend. He didn’t let you fall though, he quickly let go of your face and hands and held you up by the hips effortlessly.
“We aren’t done yet babygirl.” The side of your face rested on the desk, your mouth agape, raspy, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Your throat was dry from all the screaming, you surely wouldn’t be able to talk properly afterwards. He pounded into you rapidly, his rhythm becoming sloppier with each passing moment, he was getting close too. For someone who had instructed you to be quiet, he sure was being loud now, but neither of you cared. 
“So good, so fucking good for me.” He groaned, leaning forward, placing his forehead on your shoulder. His rapid breathing on your back sent shivers down your spine. You felt another orgasm building up, and you knew Wriothesley was close too. 
“Wrio- I’m going to…” You could barely speak, every word you uttered being followed by loud gasps.
“I know, baby, I know. Just wait a little.” He hushed you, gripping your hips with so much strength his knuckles were turning white. After a few more pushes, he was losing it, groaning loudly on your shoulder. “Come for me, y/n. Come!”
You moaned loudly, your third climax hitting you like a truck. Your walls clenched his member, that was the last straw for him. He bit down on your shoulder, moaning as he did so. His cock pushed deep inside you and stopped there. His cum came spurting out into you, the warm and thick liquid filling you up, some even dripping out of you and onto the floor. 
After a short while, his teeth finally let go of your flesh and he pulled out slowly, more cum dripping onto the floor as he did so. You opened your eyes as best as you could and looked back hazeley only to find a flushed and panting Wriothesley trying to catch his breath, still holding you up.
He then picked you up and sat you down on the desk, taking a set on his chair afterwards. You both sighed of relief, finally relaxing a bit after that experience.
He looked at you and smiled kindly, then looked at the mark on your shoulder and his smile turned upside down. “Sorry about that.”
You put your hand on your shoulder, massaging it to soothe the stinging pain. “It’s okay, it isn’t too bad.” Your smile made his worries die out. 
You started to feel a bit chilly, after all your bottoms were still on the floor. Before moving to dress yourself, a question came to your mind. You looked him in the eyes. “So, should I stop dressing the way I do from now on?”
Writohesley smirks, his head resting on his fist. “I won’t forbid you from dressing the way you want, but you must assume the consequences that will come with it.” 
At first, you blush, knowing well what he was referring to, but then you return the smile, answering with a confident tone. 
“Oh don’t worry, I will.”
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© wrayah, 2024
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
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summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.
author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!
now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)
word count: 13.5k
warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!
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“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  
You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.
And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.
“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”
“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 
“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.
“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”
The way he says it, you almost believe him.
“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.
And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.
But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.
If only you knew. 
Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 
౨ৎ
“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 
“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 
“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 
“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”
“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 
“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.
You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.
When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 
You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.
He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.
“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.
“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.
“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”
“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 
“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”
“Oh yeah, international law, right?”
“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 
“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”
“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 
“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 
“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.
“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.
“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.
“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.
“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 
“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 
“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.
“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 
“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”
“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.
“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 
“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.
“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.
“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”
“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.
“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.
“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”
“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.
“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 
“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.
“Yeah, me either, kid.”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.
“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”
“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 
“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.
“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.
“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.
“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.
“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”
“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.
“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”
“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.
“Not yet, you’re not.” 
“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”
“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 
“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 
He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.
The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.
But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.
He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 
“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 
“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 
“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”
You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.
Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.
Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 
“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 
“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.
“Nothing.” 
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 
“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”
You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.
౨ৎ
You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.
The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 
You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 
It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.
That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.
You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 
You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 
Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 
This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.
“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.
You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.
“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 
Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.
And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 
But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 
And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 
You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 
You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 
There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.
So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!
In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 
You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 
Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.
“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 
“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.
“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 
“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”
“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 
You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 
“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”
“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”
“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.
“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”
You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 
“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.
“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 
“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.
“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.
“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”
“I-I…I just-”
“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 
“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.
“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 
“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 
“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.
“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 
“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 
“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.
“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 
You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 
“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.
A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.
“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 
“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”
“My sister’s always got boy problems.”
“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”
“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”
You laugh while Wheezie frowns.
“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”
“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 
“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.
“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.
She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 
“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”
“Yeah.” 
Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.
“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 
“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”
“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.
“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”
“Huh?” he questions.
“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.
“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”
“She.”
“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”
“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”
“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”
That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 
౨ৎ
The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 
The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 
R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?
that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.
R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?
so she deserves death????
R: The impound lot at the very least
if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it
R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are
did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?
R: No.
R: Ur fault. You gave her yours
you gave her yours too
and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault
R: She’s five, genius
R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid
౨ৎ
Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 
And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 
But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.
But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 
You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.
You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 
You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 
“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 
You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.
Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.
You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.
The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 
You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.
You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.
“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 
“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”
“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”
“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”
“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.
You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.
“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 
“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 
“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 
“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 
“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.
“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”
“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.
R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house
R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you
“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.
“What’s inside? I thought-”
“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”
“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”
“Y-yeah?”
“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.
“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”
You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 
Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 
“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.
“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 
“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 
“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.
You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 
You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 
You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.
“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 
You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.
Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.
And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.
At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.
“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.
“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 
“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.
“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 
The way he says it you believe him. 
You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 
You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.
“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 
His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 
“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.
He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 
It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 
He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 
Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.
Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 
౨ৎ
A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.
It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get
along,  but they look like they’re fine now.
“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.
“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”
“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”
“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 
“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.
“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months
ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.
“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”
You guess that God was on your side today. 
R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?
sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn
R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?
you know me so well
R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.
You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.
Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.
You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.
The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.
“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”
“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.
A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.
“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 
“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”
“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”
“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”
“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”
“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.
“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.
“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”
“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.
“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.
“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”
“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”
“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”
“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 
“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 
“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.
“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 
“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”
“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”
“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 
“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”
“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 
And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 
“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 
“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”
The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 
“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 
You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.
౨ৎ
Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 
Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you
Princess: please rafey
“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.
“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.
“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.
“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”
“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”
“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”
“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.
“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.
“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 
He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”
Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.
“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”
Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 
“Make you forget?” he questions. 
“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 
There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.
“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.
His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.
You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.
“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”
You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 
“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 
“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.
“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.
“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.
His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 
“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 
“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.
Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.
The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.
His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.
His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.
You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 
You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 
His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 
You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 
Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.
Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to
touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.
“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”
“I tried, daddy, I did-”
“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”
“No, I did, I swear-”
“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.
“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.
“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 
“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.
“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”
You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 
He looks up again. 
“You ready, kid?” 
“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.
You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 
“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.
“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”
“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.
“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.
“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 
You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.
He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 
You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.
“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”
And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.
“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.
A few minutes pass by.
“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.
Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.
“Feel better, kid?” 
“So much better, Rafey.” 
You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.
JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?
౨ৎ
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seratopia · 10 months
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miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!
modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk
It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.
You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.
Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.
He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.
One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.
"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.
Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.
Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.
The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)
Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.
He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.
The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.
Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.
. . .
You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.
miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.
The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.
Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.
It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.
james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍
Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.
you: i see u looking at me
You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.
miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10
. . .
Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.
Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.
Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.
"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.
Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.
Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.
Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.
The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.
"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.
"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.
He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.
Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.
"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.
"I love you too."
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© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.
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readychilledwine · 2 months
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Pieces of You - Prologue
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Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected
Warnings - death, loss of a mate, babies, drug induced sleep
A/N - this one is going to hurt before it feels good, friends. It's gonna hurt a lot. Based on these little pictures I found in a tiktok
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Silence had fallen over the house.
There wasn't a single voice whispering, no bells to ring in the celebration of Nyx's birth, no loud pops from corks of champagne echoing in the air. 
Just silence. 
Madja stood in the doorway, a small bundle of what should have been joy wrapped in her arms. Rhys was sat on the steps, shoulders shaking with anger and sadness. 
The Cauldron had refused Nesta's offer. It had instead mocked them, changing Nesta's womb, forcing her to keep the powers that plagued her, and breaking the death bargain. 
It forced him to live while his mate died, promising there were no second chances this time. No magic being to bring her back again. This time was for good. It was forever. Rhysand knew life could be a bitter thing, but he did not expect death to be as cruel. 
“High lord,” Madja approached slowly. “We need to decide how we are feeding Nyx. The babe needs to eat.”
Azriel appeared besides Rhys, kneeling down next to him as he stared off the balcony. “I.. I don't know,” he finally answered. “We hadn't talked about it. She figured she would just be here to do it.” Azriel squeezed Rhysand's shoulder, handing him a vial with blue liquid in it. “We will have to find a wet nurse. Though, I am unsure how you will find one this last minute.”
“Y/n,” Azriel said softly. “She just had a babe, didn't she?” Madja nodded. “Can she just feed them both?”
“it is possible. Y/n does over produce already and has been storing milk. Newborns need to be fed almost hourly, though, shadowsinger. She'd have to have them both here, or Nyx will have to stay with her."
Rhys just shrugged, uncorking the vial and shooting back the contents. “I really don't care about that aspect, Madja. The house is huge, and I'm alone now anyway. What's the point in caring? She can decide." Azriel helped him stand as the sleeping drought started to work and supported his brother into a bedroom. 
He reappeared moments later. “I'll ask her. I know you don't want to burden her.” He reached for Nyx, admiring his perfect face again. “She's a sweet girl, quiet, good listener. She might be good for both of them while he heals.”
Madja just nodded. “Just remember that two grieving widowers will need a village to care for two newborns.”
The small cottage you lived in was quiet. You were leaned against the couch, sitting in the floor with your head laid back. Caring for your daughter alone was a chore, and you knew you should have been sleeping, but something was keeping you awake. 
A gentle knock in the door had you cringing, praying Morwenna wouldn't wake up. You moved to the door quickly, not noticing the shadow whisping around your feet and opening it to a desperate shadowsinger. “Az?” You moved for him to come in, stomach dropping at the sight of the babe in his arms. “Please tell me you being here with that sweet little thing doesn't mean what I think it does.”
Azriel just looked up, tears finally falling. “He hasn't ate yet,” your heart shattered at the unneeded confirmation. “Please, help us.”
You took the Illyrian babe instantly, taking your shirt off without question to offer him food. Azriel's shoulders fell in relief as his little cheeks began to move, a small hand and fingers reaching to your pinky. 
The two of you sat in heavy silence again. Azriel processing what had all happened that day, and you, aching for a male you hardly knew, and mourning the female that had become a close friend. 
You almost laughed at how cruel life could be. To lose your mate before childbirth, and then to lose your friend, the female who held your hand during labor, only a week later.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff
Rhys taglist:
@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads
Pieces of You Taglist:
@dr4g0ngirl
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halsteadlover · 8 months
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Haunted
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*Gif not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.
• Requested by @lelaartt: So reader and Jay are engaged, her working as a nurse in the ICU. She gets followed by a stranger on her way home for couple of occasions (She doesn't tell anyone) as the stranger becames a main suspect in case that intelligence is dealing with. Jay completelly worried about her safety and she tells him about the stranger following her for couple of weeks.
• Warnings: stalking, cursing, blood, description of violence, brief mention of killing and rape. (Let me know if I missed something).
• Word count: 9530.
• A/N: I know this is a long ass fic and I’m so sorry please don’t come at me 😭. I’m kinda nervous because I really don’t vibe with the fic but I really hope it turned out okay. Let me know what you think and reblog, comment and like if you want. ❤️ thank you again for your support, forever grateful for it. Sending lots of love to you all xx
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Your hospital shift was nothing short of exhausting.
That day there were three hospitalizations in the ICU due to a terrible accident that happened in the afternoon. Three patients, all of them brain dead. The ward was short-staffed and it was just you and another nurse, Amanda, on that shift so dealing with these three new patients, along with the other ones, was really exhausting.
After closing your locker, you removed the necklace where you hung the ring and slipped it onto the ring finger of your left hand, which you did at the end of each shift. You didn't want to risk losing it during work, you’d never forgive yourself for it so you just carried it around your neck during the shifts. You looked at it for a moment with a smile on your lips thinking back to the day Jay asked you to marry him.
You took your cell phone from the pocket of your uniform and, as you walked towards the exit, bag on your shoulders, you noticed various texts from Jay, the last one dating back to a couple of minutes prior.
From Fiancée 💍, 7:17 pm
Baby we're still dealing with a difficult case, I think I'll be late tonight. Please let me know when you get home. I love you endlessly. Be careful.
From Fiancée 💍, 7:55 pm
Baby? Are you okay?
From Fiancée 💍, 8.21 pm
Should I send a patrol to the hospital? You know I'll do it love.
You chuckled not doubting about that, you knew he would. Jay had always been very protective of you, which you wouldn't admit but loved it madly. You loved he cared about you, so much he’d leave everything and everyone to come to you if you asked him to.
From you, 8.27 pm
I'm sorry love, it's been a hard shift and I just picked up my cell phone. I'm going home now. How are you? When will you finish? You’ll come home soon, right?
You left the hospital and started walking home. It was late spring and the temperatures were finally starting to warm up a bit, allowing you to finally breathe fresh air. You really needed it after a whole day of smelling the hospital and disinfectants.
Your cell phone started ringing following a call.
“Hi baby! You really miss me that much, don’t you?” You begin, bringing your cell phone to your ear, a smile on your lips.
“I always miss you, you know that,” your fiancée answered on the other end of the phone. “Are you walking home?”.
“Yes, it's a beautiful evening and I felt like walking.”
Jay sighed. “Baby you know I don't like the idea of you walking alone in the dark, you could’ve taken a taxi or waited for me to pick you up.”
“Oh come on Jay, what’s gonna happen. I'll be home in twenty minutes,” you retorted “Where are you?”.
“I'm still in the district baby, I have to finish writing a case report and then I'm finally leaving,” you heard some noise in the background but you couldn't figure out what he was doing.
Jay continued to keep you company on the phone, refusing to leave you completely alone even though you'd insisted that he finish work so he'd get back to you soon.
You asked him about his day and he started telling you what he had done as you listened to him carefully, asking him a few questions from time to time when you didn't quite understand something. You bumped into a person and quickly mumbled an apology before walking on, quickly glancing at the man who reassured you not to worry.
“Everything okay baby?” Jay asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I got distracted and bumped into a guy, no big deal. What were you saying?”.
Suddenly an unease feeling went through your body. You tried to let it go, thinking it was just a figment of your imagination.
You clasped your hand around your purse, quickly picking up your pace when you began to hear footsteps behind you.
They were so loud you seemed to hear them only a few feet away from you.
You turned around and stopped in your tracks, looking around for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of relief.
There was no one walking behind you.
Your heart was pounding and anxiety was eating up your stomach and you forgot for a moment you were on the phone with Jay.
Stay calm, you're just tired.
“Baby? You still there?” Jay's voice brought you back to reality. “Oh yeah, sorry, I couldn’t hear you anymore.” You answered. You didn't want to make him worry about your simple and stupid feeling, you knew if you told him you had the impression someone was following you he would’ve rushed to you and acted like the world was about to end.
You were sure it was just the fatigue speaking, but your senses remained alert until you got to your apartment. You took a shower while you waited for Jay to come back home, ordering food since you knew neither of you would feel like cooking.
You were about to lower the blinds in your bedroom window when, glancing outside, you noticed a figure standing on the sidewalk in front of you.
It was too dark for you to make out who it was and for a few moments you stood paralyzed, your eyes fixed on that dark figure, trying to figure out if it was just a hallucination.
The noise of the front door opening and closing made you jump in place, nearly giving you a heart attack.
You took your eyes off that figure for just a second.
Just for a moment.
And it was no longer there.
You ran your hands over your face in frustration, letting out a deep sigh at the same time before walking over to Jay, deciding you were going to ignore it and just needed a good night's sleep.
-
The following days went on quietly and the strange episode that happened a few nights before passed into oblivion. But that was before something else weird made your skin crawl.
“Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to work babe?” Jay asked you as he planted numerous kisses on your lips, making you smile between them. It was morning and you were both in the doorway, your arms around his chest as you both struggled to pull away.
“I'm positive baby, just think about resting okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
He cupped his hands over your face, giving you one last long, sweet kiss on your lips. “I'll have dinner ready for you. You be careful. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.“
The day went on peacefully. You had to work a double shift in the hospital as the nurse on the afternoon shift was sick and had to take over her place.
You loved your job, you really did. There was nothing else you would’ve done in your life but sometimes you couldn't deny how difficult and tiring it was.
“Y/N, sweetie!” You heard the voice of your colleague, Becca, calling you from a patient’s room you'd just passed. You sighed, recognizing the tone she used when she needed something.
You took a few steps back, looking into the room and noticing Becca intent on changing the unconscious patient's dressing.
“Becca I was about to leave, why do you still want to torture me?” You whined and she rolled her eyes. “Please help me change these dressings. Pretty please, I can't wait to leave too.”
She put on the sweetest puppy face she was capable of and for the second time you sighed and rolled your eyes. You ended up disinfecting your hands, putting on a pair of gloves and helping her to change the patient’s dressings.
By the time you finished you were dead tired and couldn't wait to get back to Jay and sleep, you probably would’ve just run away if anyone else had asked you any other favor. For this reason, you practically flew out of the hospital after saying goodbye to your colleagues.
It was particularly cold that evening and you found yourself rubbing your hands on your arms in an attempt to get some warmth. Thank God you took the car that day.
You walked over to your car and grabbed the keys from your bag. Before unlocking it, you noticed an object resting on the windshield, held on it by the wiper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized it was a rose.
A black rose.
What the fuck?
There was no card attached to it, just the rose.
Your heartbeat began to accelerate and anxiety took over you. You tried to keep calm and not freak out since there was definitely an explanation why someone had to put a damn black rose on your car.
Maybe they were wrong, maybe it was for another person and they got mixed up with the cars.
Who the hell gives a black rose though?
Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you but you didn't notice anyone suspicious or anyone nearby watching you, before dropping the rose on the asphalt, trying not to think about it. There was definitely a mistake.
The car ride was strange.
You couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You kept looking in the rear view mirror to notice if there were any cars following you, you were probably just getting paranoid but you couldn't keep yourself calm.
When you parked in your usual spot once you got back home, that feeling of discomfort hadn't disappeared, on the contrary, it had increased.
The streetlights hadn't been turned on yet and it was dark enough outside so distinguishing objects or people was pretty hard.
After locking the car you were about to enter the apartment building when your gaze fell on the sidewalk in front of you.
You didn't know if it was just your imagination, but you swore there was someone standing, exactly in front of you and, despite the darkness, you were sure they were watching you.
You couldn't figure out who that person was, only that he was a man.
Your breath caught in your chest as you realized it was the same figure you'd spotted a few days earlier from your bedroom window.
The silence was almost deafening, making everything more frightening and suggestive.
Your muscles were paralyzed as your eyes seemed to be glued to that man.
Suddenly he moved and your heart almost stopped beating.
But when you saw him go away, that was the last thing you expected.
He did nothing, just walked away.
You tried to explain what was happening in your mind. Maybe it was just a coincidence, that man was there for another reason and you had nothing to do with it.
You let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding and quickly entered the apartment building, rushing to your home where you found Jay on the couch watching a show.
That rose left you with a feeling of anxiety that you couldn't get rid of easily, also caused by that figure you saw standing in front of you. You didn't immediately tell Jay, you didn't want to worry him since you already knew how he’d react and he’d worry to death and go crazy about it.
You just wanted to be sure that something’s happening before alarming him.
But, knowing you like the back of his hand, he immediately sensed there was something strange, that something was bothering you. You tried to convince him otherwise, that you were just awfully tired after working a double shift at the hospital.
“Baby, really, I'm fine. I'm just dead tired,” you said for the hundredth time since you'd set foot inside the house.
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Did someone upset you? Did something happen at work?” He kept going, thumb and forefinger under your chin to keep your head up and make you look into his eyes. Your hands slid under his shirt, caressing his chest as you placed your lips on his, trying to distract him.
“No baby, nobody did anything. Seriously, nothing happened,” you muttered against his lips, “I just missed my fiancé like hell.” You bit his bottom lip and he hissed, his breathing suddenly heavy. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”.
“Fuck yeah,” Jay had said before crashing his mouth on yours and kissing your breath away. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth as his lips moved masterfully with yours. His hands went down your body and he bent slightly before reaching your thighs, pressing his fingers against your skin and urging you to jump into his arms.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck meanwhile he carried you to the bathroom, never letting go of you. As he kicked the door open, you found yourself completely lost in him, the rest of the world vanishing and all negative thoughts forgotten.
However this sensation of bliss was destined to vanish.
In the following days the feeling that was tormenting you didn’t disappear, instead it only got worse.
You started to sense someone was constantly following you and watching you, that every time you walked in the middle of the street there was someone behind you even if every time you turned around there was no one.
After finding that rose on your car, this kept happening and almost every night for two weeks a rose would appear on your windshield.
Jay knew something was wrong, you weren't acting normally anymore.
You were always jumpy, any sudden noise made you almost have a heart attack, even if you were cooking and he suddenly hugged you from behind you’d be scared to death.
Needless to say Jay asked you a million times what was going on, what was it that was bothering you so much but you didn't want to bother him. You didn't want to upset him, make him worry about some stupid feeling of yours, not when his work was already haunting him enough.
Maybe deep down you were hoping whoever was leaving you those roses would stop and eventually leave you alone.
One evening you went out with your friends, on one of your rare days off, to try to keep your mind occupied and to catch up with them since you didn't always have the opportunity because of your hectic job.
Between laughter, jokes, chatting and various cocktails, the evening went on normally and by 1:00 am each one of you went back home. You headed towards your car, parked not far from the bar where you had all met together, calm and happy for the first time in weeks.
However, this feeling of calmness faded the instant your gaze fell on a damn black rose sitting on your windshield, again.
A wave of anger took over you.
You were tired, so damn tired of this little game that whoever it was was playing against you.
Who the hell was this person? What the fuck did they want from you? Why were they targeting you?
Whoever that person was they following you, they knew what you were doing, who you were with, and it scared the shit out of you as well as infuriating you.
You tore all the petals off that rose that would haunt you forever before throwing it angrily on the asphalt and getting into the car. You started it and quickly drove away from there, intending to go home immediately.
You wanted Jay, you wanted your fiancée. You wanted to hug him, feeling safe again in his arms and forget about all that shit that was going on.
As soon as you got home, however, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jay laying on the sofa, asleep. The TV was on and he had his cell phone resting on his stomach, holding it close in case you called him. A smile was born on your lips and for an instant all negative thoughts flew away as your attention focused on the sleeping figure on the couch.
You leaned towards him, leaving a sweet little kiss on his forehead, also gently stroking his hair with your left hand. He stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes at the same instant, looking around before looking at you, a sigh of relief to see you were back home safe and sound.
“I’m sorry I woke you up baby,” you whispered, kissing his forehead again “Let's go to bed so you can sleep again.”
He mumbled something you couldn’t catch and rubbed his eyes before flashing a smile that nearly made your knees buckle. He nodded and then stood up, stretching his arms before pulling you into a hug. “How are you my love? Did you have fun?”.
The memory of that rose returned to your mind but for some reason, seeing his eyes so red and tired, you decided not to worry him about it and you’d talk to him about it the following morning.
“Mmh,” you muttered nodding your head “I really had fun, we needed this girls night out even though I missed you a lot.”
He chuckled, placing his hands on your face and giving you a kiss on the lips. “I’m glad darling, you deserved it since you’re working so hard lately. And I missed you so much more,” he kissed you again “Come on, let's go to sleep now.”
But that night you couldn't sleep given the thousands of thoughts that were going through your head. You couldn't help but think who would do something like that, what the hell those roses meant. Was there anyone who had it in for you? Did you do something to someone? Maybe an angry patient?
You thought again and again about who could be doing this but none occurred to you. Jay told you about his cases so many times you knew that whoever did this was doing it to torture you, to keep you on your toes, to make you live in fear.
And the fact they were succeeding was infuriating you.
Fear turned into pure terror when, while checking your cell phone, you noticed a text from an unknown number.
So pretty. Can’t wait to meet you.
How did they get your number?
You were so immersed in your thoughts you didn't notice it was morning and that Jay had woken up in the meantime. He literally jumped out of bed when you told him the time after he asked you, realizing he was late. You had the afternoon shift so you didn't have to worry about getting ready for quite a while longer.
“Baby can I talk to you about something?” You had asked him, not being able to hold it in anymore even though you knew you picked up the worst time to do it.
How smart were you for wanting to talk to him about something so delicate as he was hurring to get dressed and going to work? Not much.
“Can you tell me about it later? I'm so sorry, but I'm super late…” he replied frantically as he ran from one part of the room to another looking for the keys. He stopped for a moment in front of you, placing his hands on your face, analyzing your features. “Is it something important though? If…”
You shook his head, placing your hands on his chest and giving him a reassuring smile even if anxiety was making you nauseous. “No, it's not urgent baby. I'll tell you tonight. Now go.”
He smiled at you and made sure to leave you a long, sweet kiss on your lips before saying goodbye and literally flying out of the front door.
It could wait, right?
You tried to keep yourself busy all morning, cleaning every corner of your apartment and keeping your mind from the negative thoughts.
You couldn't deny the slightest noise made you jump, even when you accidentally dropped something on the floor. You hated this feeling, you hated having to be afraid in your own home, you hated whoever was doing this to you, you hated them so fucking much.
You nearly jumped for joy when you realized it was time to get ready for work, the thought that for few hours you'd be safe made you especially happy to go to the hospital.
You took a shower before quickly putting on your uniform and packing your bag. You checked that everything you needed was there, house and car keys and hospital locker keys, a bottle of water, tissues, tampons, some snacks, pepper spray and a small knife. Jay had forced you to carry them around constantly, asserting you could never be too safe and he’d be comfortable with the thought you had something to protect you in case of need, and never as then as then you were grateful to him.
Once you left the apartment, you made sure you locked the door at least three times. The anxiety that had been living with you for weeks was now gripping your stomach, forcing you to constantly look around and keeping you alert to any individual passing by you.
You forcefully clutched your purse to you, walking briskly to your car and unlocking before climbing in and locking yourself inside. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were even holding as your eyes continued to scan the perimeter for any type of threat.
Did you already mention how much you hated this?
“It's okay Y/N, it's okay, just take it easy,” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before putting on your seat belt and starting the car.
As you drove to the hospital you couldn't help but constantly look at the rear view mirror, almost as if you expected someone to be following you but they weren't, there was no car that you repeatedly noticed behind you.
Your cell phone started ringing and you took it from inside your bag, not taking your eyes off the road. Without even looking who it was, imagining for a moment it was Jay, you answered.
“Hello?”.
The smile on your lips instantly disappeared when instead of a voice you started to hear a heavy sigh, almost a pant.
“Hello?”.
You took the phone away from your ear and glanced at the screen, noting that it wasn't Jay, or anyone else you knew, but an unknown ID.
“Who is this?” You continued, hoping whoever it was would answer and maybe you'd recognize the voice. The person on the other end of the phone just kept sighing heavily, making your heart beat so hard you thought you were about to have a heart attack at any moment.
“What the fuck do you want from me?! Leave me alone!” You screamed, in the grip of fear, anxiety and anger that this person was forcing you to suffer. You closed the call and threw the cell phone on the passenger seat, not caring if it had bumped into something or was broken.
Your vision began to blur with tears fearing for your safety. They had your number. They knew where you lived. What kept them from taking you and killing you?
Your hands were shaking on the wheel as you parked at the hospital, palms sweaty. Your heart was still pounding and there wasn't a muscle in your body that didn't shake like your hands.
You took a few minutes to compose yourself, not wanting to cause questions from colleagues about the reason of your emotional state.
You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears away, constantly telling yourself that everything was fine, that you'd be fine, that no one could hurt you in the hospital.
You never felt the need to have Jay with you like then. God you were stupid, so fucking stupid for not telling him about all of this before, for keeping everything inside you and hoping it’d eventually just go away, for underestimating what was happening. You were being stalked.
You texted him, telling him you'd arrived at the hospital and asking how his day was going, determined to tell him about the person who was stalking you as soon as you got off work.
You never thought you'd say it but you were never as glad you had a hard shift as you were that afternoon. Four patients arrived, one after suffering a stroke, two from a car accident and another after falling from the roof of his house.
The entire shift consisted of you and your colleagues running back and forth across the ward, treating patients, resuscitating them after one of them went into cardiac arrest twice. Your mind was focused on nothing but your patients and in treating them, everything else was left out of the hospital. You wouldn't let whoever was stalking you ruin your job, ever.
At the end of the shift there was no need to say you were dead tired and couldn't wait to go to sleep and although it was only 8:00 pm, the lack of sleep of the night before starting to take a toll on you.
As you placed your stethoscope in the locker and grabbed your bag, you removed your engagement ring from the chain around your neck and putted it on your finger. Your cell phone rang following a text notification and your heart skipped a beat for an instant.
The anxiety, which you managed to not to think about during the afternoon, returned stronger than ever to grip your stomach and for a moment you considered to throw the phone away.
But you thought it’d Jay and when you realized that it was indeed him, you breathed a sigh of relief. He said he'd be late that night because of a particularly difficult case and to let him know when you'd be done and went back home.
You tried to hide your sorrow, not wanting to be alone, especially in that situation.
You quickly typed a text back, asking him what he’d like for dinner, and put your cell phone in your bag. You said goodbye to your colleagues and walked towards the hospital exit.
You took a deep breath, praying to God to go home safe and sound.
Although spring had arrived it was particularly cold that evening due to the wind blowing and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket with you.
You walked, actually, almost ran to your car.
Anxiety was eating you alive and your heart was pounding, fear flowing like a river through your veins.
After taking the keys from your bag and unlocked the car, you quickly looked around, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you saw no one was around you.
But suddenly the keys fell out of your hands as a slimy hand placed over your mouth and an arm around your hips.
Your bag fell to the ground as you began to squirm in an attempt to free yourself from whoever grabbed you.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as the fear of dying made you fight like never before.
You screamed, your throat burning, even though because of the hand your scream came out muffled.
“Stop fighting it, it had to happen sooner or later, you knew it was going to happen sweetie,” A man's voice came hoarsely to your ears and you suppressed a gag.
You managed to hit his side with your elbow, hard enough to loosen his grip on you and you tried to push him away with all the strength you had in your body.
“You fucking whore!”.
You threw yourself to get the car keys on the asphalt but the man was faster than you and grabbed your arm, pressing his fingers into your skin with such force you were sure they’d leave a mark.
A searing, stinging pain radiated up your face as his fist hit you full-on, knocking you to the ground. You put your hands forward to try to cushion the fall, but it caused you scratches and minor lacerations on both your forearms.
“We're meant to be. I know you want it. I saw it.”
You glanced at him and almost fainted when after few seconds your recognized him.
You had already met him. He was the guy you bumped into two weeks ago.
What the fuck?!
He tried to grab your wrists but before forcing you to get up, you managed to kick him in his genital area, using all the strength you had in your body. A sound of pure pain escaped his mouth and he backed away, leaning forward and gripping the sore area with his hands.
You took advantage of that moment of weakness to get off the asphalt. You weren't going to let him hurt you, not anymore.
You grabbed his black hair in two fists and you didn't care about the damage you would’ve caused him, you didn't care you were a nurse, that you were supposed to be the one to treat people and not hurt them, but you kneed him in his face and the horrible noise his bones made, suggested you most likely broke his nose.
You pushed him to the ground, ignoring the way he grunted in pain and the blood pouring profusely from his nose, kicking him in the stomach with such force that even you were stunned.
You never fought in your entire life, never kicked anyone or punched someone, you hated the idea of hurting people but at that very moment your life was on the line and you had to protect yourself.
The man was laying on the asphalt grunting and muttering some curse word and you took advantage of it. You had to run away, that was your only chance.
You quickly grabbed your car keys and purse off the ground before opening the door and getting in. You locked yourself in before you started fumbling to get the vehicle going.
Your hands were shaking and your vision was still blurry from the punch he had thrown at you.
You gave him a quick look, terrified he’d get up and kill you on the spot.
You didn't know how but you managed to start the car and without even looking back you drove away from that parking lot. You knew you couldn't drive in those conditions but you just wanted to get away from that monster.
You didn't know where to go, you didn't want to go home, the terror of being attacked there would’ve killed you so you went to the place where there was the only person you wanted to see, the only one who could make you feel better, safe.
The journey to the district was awful.
Your body was driving but it was as if you were experiencing everything from the outside, as if your soul had left your body and was looking at you from afar.
You didn't know how you managed to drive and not run over anyone or crash yourself.
Your breathing was still quickening, your chest rose and fell as if you'd run a marathon, your trembling hands struggling to hold onto the steering wheel. Your vision was blurred due to copious tears flowing from your eyes and streaming down your face, not even realizing you were crying desperately.
Your face was in pain and you were sure a huge bruise would appear on your cheek, although you didn't care, grateful you were still alive, that you managed to escape.
When you arrived at the district, you didn’t care about parking your car properly, or to take your bag or lock it after getting off. You just wanted Jay.
A smile appeared on Sergeant Platt's face the moment she saw you walking up the stairs, but when she noticed the way you were running, it immediately disappeared.
“Oh my God Y/N!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you up close. Your face was streaked with tears, an expression of pure terror and fear contouring your features, your uniform stained with dust. She ran towards you, placing her hands on your arms. “What happened to you?” She took a look at your body looking for any other injury. “Oh dear. It's okay, whatever happened you're safe here.”
You kept breathing hard and your eyes were so full of tears you could barely see her.
“Shh it's okay. Come on, let's go sit down.”
She put her arm around your shoulders as she took your hand with her free one as a sign of support. She led you into one of the break rooms, making you sit on the couch and sitting next to you.
Her hand kept squeezing yours meanwhile the other stroked your back, trying to calm you down.
“Do you want some water?” She asked and you nodded, not being able to speak at the moment. Trudy got up and ran to get a bottle of water.
She handed it to you after opening the cap and it broke her heart to see the way you were shaking. “T-thanks,” you stammered, your chest shaking with sobs. “J-Jay.”
“I'm going to call him right away, don't move from here,” she said, seeing the way you needed him. She got up and ran upstairs, where Intelligence was still busy working on the case.
Everyone turned to the sergeant, who was at the top of the stairs with an expression that did not bode well. “Trudy, did something happen?” Voight asked as soon as he saw her but her gaze fell on Jay, who was standing by the whiteboard, arms folded across his chest.
“Jay… It's Y/N…” She spoke, saying nothing else. “She's downstairs now…”
Jay's eyes widened at the sergeant's words, his eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry and fear. He knew something was up, by the way Platt looked at him and a wave of anxiety hit him, his mind now focused only on you.
Without even letting her finish the sentence, he quickly moved away from the others, running down the stairs, almost tripping on his feet. Trudy followed him, giving no explanation to the rest of the team who just exchanged a worried look.
“Where's she?” he asked hurriedly and Trudy pointed him to the room you were in.
He burst into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting on the sofa but immediately worrying when he saw the state you were in. Trudy closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone and not giving any other cops a chance to snoop.
You had your elbows resting on your knees, your hands on your face as your leg bounced up and down almost obsessively.
“Baby!”.
His voice made you snap your head to him and before you knew it, you were rushing into his arms, squeezing yours around his torso with so much force you were almost afraid he’d disappear.
Jay was surprised for a moment but immediately returned that hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you like he never did. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was he knew it was serious and that was enough to make his heart race.
“I'm here baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your head, stroking your hair. You cried in his arms, with relief because he was finally there with you.
His heart sank as he heard you cry like that, feeling helpless like never before. You kept shaking and, without even knowing anything, Jay promised himself whoever had done this to you was a dead person.
“Baby you're making me worry to death. Please talk to me,” his voice coming out desperately. You broke away from his embrace, but still remained very close to him. “Darling, look at me. What happened?”.
His hands rested on your face and inevitably on the bruised cheek. You winched in pain and this didn't escape Jay, who was on the verge of losing his mind by then. “Y/N. Look at me,” he urged and you did as he said, lifting your head and making eye contact with him.
His breath caught in his chest as his gaze fell on the clear purple bruise on your cheek.
“What the fuck? Y/N…” he stammered, an incredulous and horrified look on his face as he looked at you. He took his hand away from your wounded cheek, placing two fingers under your chin and turning your head to inspect it better. “Shit baby… What happened? Who did this to you?”.
His heart was pounding in his chest and as his eyes looked at every single inch of that bruise that lined your cheek, every single cell in his body lit up with rage. Seeing the desperation on your face, the look of pure terror with which you were looking at him, the way your eyes were so full of tears, Jay felt as if he had stabbed and someone had twisted the knife over and over again.
“I-I… H-he…” you stammered meaninglessly, sobbing between words clearly still unable to speak.
“Oh baby come here,” he hugged you again, this time even harder than he had before. “My beautiful princess. It's okay, it's okay, you're safe now do you hear me? You're safe.” He tried to comfort you “I'm here now, I'm here. You’re not alone anymore and I will never let anyone hurt you again. You’re safe with me my love.”
“I-I was…” another sob “So… S-so scared…” you cried into his shirt, wetting it with your tears.
“I know, my baby, I know,” he whispered, placing lots of little kisses on your head. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to happen, not to you. But you're safe now, I'm here with you, you’re safe with me.” He kept repeating to you.
You both sat on the couch and he continued to hug you indefinitely, holding you and cradling you in his arms until you calmed down. “Sorry,” you muttered, your voice weak as you pulled away from his embrace, gesturing at his tear-stained t-shirt.
“Don’t even say it,” he replied. He raised his hand and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ears as you kept your gaze on your hands. He was about to continue speaking when his eyes fell on the bruises on your arm, visible outside of your uniform.
His fingers lifted the sleeve to take a better look of the bruises on your skin. He immediately understood they were finger markers, a sign that someone had violently grabbed your arm.
“Oh darling,” he whispered, shattered at the sight of those horrible marks on your beautiful skin “What have they done to you?” His fingers caressed you gently, being careful not to hurt you further.
He was furious, like he had been a few other times in his life, and he still hadn't heard the story.
“Tell me what happened, please.”
You sighed and with still trembling voice, started talking. You told him about everything, about the roses, about the feeling of being followed, about the text, about the call and about the man who attacked you, the fact you already saw him for few seconds weeks prior, how he hit you and how you defended yourself.
“Why the hell didn't you tell me about it sooner?!” Jay snapped, when you finished speaking “This was never going to happen dammit! I would’ve killed that fucking son of a bitch.”
He leapt to his feet, running his hands over his face and pacing around the room. He didn't want to pick on you, it wasn't your fault and he knew it, but he was so damn angry, so angry you had to go through this, that he wasn't there to protect you.
His eyes landed on you noticing how yours quickly filled with tears again at his words and the tone of voice he used. “No, no, no baby, don't cry,” he rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to blame you. It's not your fault, please don't cry.”
His hands rested on your knees as you looked at him with sad, broken eyes, making his heart break over and over again. “You’re right I should have told you about it…”
“No, baby, don't get this into your head okay? It's not your fault, I’m so sorry for snapping like that I’m just so fucking furious for what that piece of shit did to you. It’s his fault, he hurt you and make you go through all of this. I hate you had to go through this alone and I wasn’t there to help you,” He sighed “I knew something wasn't right, I should have…” Jay stopped his eyes suddenly widening as you looked at him confused.
“Oh my god, that's… That's what you wanted to tell me this morning, isn't it?”. You didn't answer, effectively giving him the answer he needed.
Jay scrambled to his feet again, as if he'd just been given an electric shock. “Fuck!” He tried to keep control but you jumped as he kicked a chair in anger before placing his hands on the table and bowing his head, his back towards you.
“Jay…” you mumbled, standing up and walking towards him. You placed a hand on his back even though he didn't move from that position.
“It's my fault, this…” he choked on his own words “If I had stopped and listened to you this morning… Shit… It shouldn't have happened… I’m so sorry…”
“Hey, hey, no baby,” you interrupted him “Don't be hypocritical and tell me to not blame me and then do the same.”
He turned his head to you and it broke your heart to see his eyes full of tears. “I was late Y/N… I… This happened to you because I didn't stop for five fucking minutes to listen to you!”.
“Jay, listen to me,” you spoke to him softly. You lightly pulled his arm, causing him to straighten his back. You cupped your hands over his face, stroking his cheeks. “It's that crazy bastard's fault okay? Not yours, not mine.”
“If something happened to you… God…”
“No. Let's not do this. No ifs and buts. I'm here and I'm fine, I was scared shitless, I'm still scared shitless, but I'll be fine. You’re here with me and you’re all I need baby. These are just bruises and they'll be gone in a couple days,” you croaked “You should’ve seen how he looked then.”
He sighed before letting out a chuckle though the tears, hugging you for the third time, his hand stroking your hair. “We'll get him okay? And I'll fucking make him pay for what he did to you.”
You and Jay went upstairs, not wanting to let you disappear from his sight for even a second, after reassuring Trudy and telling her what had happened. Needless to say, she threatened to kill the bastard herself if Jay didn't. The way he answered told you that there was no need and that he’d certainly sort it out.
“I'll get you some ice for the bruise,” Kim had offered. The rest of the team didn't take it quite well either and Voight promised you they’d catch the bastard who hurt you. You and Jay had been together for a long time and you were part of the group now, an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them.
“Thank you,” you thanked her with a warm smile, placing the bag of ice on your face. The cold sent a rush of shivers up your spine.
“Come on baby, let's go in the break room,” Jay had said, his hand resting on your lower back. However, your gaze fell on the white board on which various photos and sentences were hung.
At first you didn't notice, but when your eyes saw a particular photo, you did a double take, stopping in your tracks and lowering the hand that was holding the ice.
“Baby? Are you okay?” Jay immediately asked alarmed, then following the direction of your gaze. “Oh. That's the case we're investigating.”
The photo just on the blackboard wasn't clear enough, it was a frame taken from a surveillance video but you could distinguish the features of the man it portrayed.
You stopped breathing for a second and your mind retraced in those brief moments your aggression, still fresh and imprinted in your memory.
“Y/N?” Jay pressed, worried about your reaction as his hand caressed your back.
“It-it… Jay…” you breathed out “It's him…”
“What?!” Jay's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and everyone in the unit couldn't mask their surprise.
“It was him… H-he attacked me… Oh god…”
Your hands start shaking again and you thanked that Jay was there to hold you or you would’ve probably collapsed on the floor.
Your eyes moved from that frame to the other hanging photos. There were four photos depicting four different women, more or less your age and similar in appearance to yours. Alongside these were other photos portraying instead what were unmistakably the victims’ bodies.
You were in complete shock.
What were the odds that the man stalking you was the same Jay was investigating on?
“C’mon let’s go,” Jay put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the break room and closing the door behind him.
You weren't even crying. You were just completely shocked.
“Jay… He…” you stammered as if you were having trouble coordinating your thoughts. He put both of his hands on your shoulders.
“Baby, just breathe okay? Do it with me, take a deep breath.”
You shook yourself out of his grip, now in a panic. How could you calm down?
“He was… He would’ve killed me Jay, like… Like those women… Holy shit…” you continued to babble. You couldn't believe it. You understood that bastard was to be locked up somewhere, but you never, ever imagined he was a serial killer, that he’d done that before to those poor women. What if you didn't fight? What if he managed to overpower you?
Jay closed his hands into a fist, pressing his nails into his palms in an attempt to let out even a tiny bit of the anger, rage and fear he was feeling at the moment.
He didn't even want to imagine it, the thought was enough to make him sick. He didn't want to imagine what could happen to you. He run the risk of losing you forever without even realizing it.
Jay couldn't exist in a world where you weren't there. He couldn't even pass the idea of not having you next to him, the pain from this thought alone was unbearable and it was enough to make his heart shatter to pieces. Damn it, he asked you to marry him, you were his fiancée, his soon to be wife, the future mother of his children. You had to start a family together, buy a bigger house to raise your children and you’d live and grow old together, forever.
He couldn't accept some son of a bitch threatened to take you away from him, the most beautiful person he'd ever met, the love of his life, his anchor and his salvation.
“What happened to those women?” You asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Baby…”
“No Jay, please, just… Just tell me. What happened to them?”.
Jay took a deep breath, knowing that telling you would only make you feel worse. “No, love. Listen to me now,” he walked over to you, placing a hand on your healthy cheek and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Don't torture yourself like this, it won't do you any good to know, please trust me. You were so brave and you managed to knock out that son of a bitch and now you're here with me, safe, so just think about this okay? I beg you. I don't even want to think about what happened to those poor women, I don't want to think something like that could’ve happened to you and I don't want you to think about it either.”
He was right. You didn't want to know, sometimes it was better to live in the unknown.
“I'm so proud of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as his fingers wiped away your tears with excruciating delicacy. “I would’ve died if anything had happened to you baby, I love you so, so fucking much. I couldn't have survived without you.”
“I love you so much Jay,” you too replied in a whisper before sharing a soft, sweet kiss, your nerves starting to finally calm down. “What happens now?”.
“You’ll stay here and we’ll continue to work non-stop until we catch that bastard.”
“Are you sure I can stay here?”.
“Is this even a question?” He looked at you as if you were an alien “Yes baby, of course you can. You have stay here. I need to know you're safe or I won't be able to think of anything else and I know nothing can happen to you if you’re here. If you need anything call me and I’ll be here okay? Try to get some rest, and put ice on your cheek.”
You nodded, knowing that even you wouldn't feel safe anywhere else but there in the district.
After sitting on the small sofa in the break room you eventually fell asleep, tired and worn out from the shift, the day's events and the lack of sleep from the previous night.
Jay and the rest of the team worked nonstop to try and locate the suspect whose name was still unknown. After learning you had hit his nose and you had probably broken it, they called the hospitals in the area and within a radius of about 20km – deducing he wouldn’t be so stupid to go to the hospital where you worked – with the hope that he’d go to get treated.
This hope turned out to be a reality when Kevin was told by a hospital just outside the city that there was a patient matching the description who was still there waiting to be treated for his broken nose.
When Jay went into the break room to warn you they'd found a lead, his heart skipping a beat seeing you asleep. Your head was resting on the back of the couch, your arms folded across your abdomen as your chest slowly rose and fell.
A sad smile spread across his face as he approached you with silent steps, his chest tightening at the sight of that horrible bruise on your cheek. As his eyes roamed on your body, he then noticed some scratches on your forearms and his stomach dropped again for the thousand time that night. He’d never forgive himself for not being able to help you, for failing to realize sooner what was happening, allowing someone to hurt you, he was hating himself for not being there to protect you.
He decided not to wake you up and he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face. He kissed your forehead, taking an extra second to savor the moment, grateful to still being able to do it.
“I love you so much my baby,” he whispered, “Everything will be okay, I promise you.”
After telling Trudy to stay by your side and never leave you alone, he headed towards the hospital where the suspect was supposed to be, his blood boiling with anger, his hands shaking with the frenzy of being able to have that son in his hands.
The stalker, however, after seeing the cops coming, didn't hesitate for a second to run away. Jay chased after him, determined not to let him get away.
“Chicago PD! Stop now!” Jay shouted as he quickly descended the emergency stairs and followed the man, skipping a few steps at a time in an attempt to reach him first. The fact the man was injured went to his advantage as Jay took the opportunity to jump on his back, causing both of them to fall heavily to the ground.
Jay's vision immediately blurred with anger.
He punched him in the face, using all the strength he had in his body to hurt him. “Son of a bitch!” He exclaimed through clenched teeth, punching him again and again. He didn't care about anything, he didn't care about the consequences there could be. He just wanted to see him suffer, to see him writhe in pain and fear, just the way you did.
“You made a fucking mistake tonight,” Jay spat, standing up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up like a sack of potatoes before slamming him heavily against the wall. The man coughed, letting out sounds of pain even if Jay couldn't care less. “You'll wish you’d never met her when I'm done with you, you worthless piece of shit.”
He hit him in the face with another punch, not caring about the blood splattered on him after each blow.
He didn't even realize he wasn't alone anymore. Voight was there and watched the scene without batting an eyelid. He deserved it, he deserved everything Jay would do to him, not just for you but also for those poor women who weren’t lucky enough to survive. He knew there was no way to stop him, even if he wanted to, especially since you were involved.
Jay hit the man's head against the wall, then pushing him to the ground. He approached him and without any mercy and without even acknowledging the man's suffering, he kicked him in the stomach.
“Fuck…” the man murmured weakly.
“Look at me you son of a bitch!” Jay cursed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt again and punching him in the face. “You thought it was fucking fun to hurt my fiancée?!”.
Another strong punch.
“Answer me!” He shouted, knowing he’d not receive a response.
Jay had completely lost control.
His mind was only picturing your wounded and tear-stained face, your terrified expression, your eyes full of tears, the bruises on your arm, on your face, the scratches, the way you hugged him so tightly because of the terror you felt, the fear you must have felt in those weeks.
“You thought you’d get away with it huh?! Making my future wife's life a fucking hell?!” He growled again, kicking this time the man’s face. “Making her scared of her own fucking shadow?!”.
Another kick in the stomach.
He was about to kill him and he didn’t give a fuck.
He bent over the man who was then barely breathing. “Did you like putting your useless dirty hands on my girl, huh?” he hissed as his foot stepped on one of the man’s hand with so much force until he heard his screams and his bones cracking.
He didn't move anymore, now unconscious and covered in his own blood.
Voight intervened at that point, not even knowing if he was alive or not. “That's okay Jay, calm down now.” He placed his hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from the unconscious man. Jay was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, his angry eyes still focused on the bastard lying on the ground.
“Now get away from here. Go out from the emergency exit and drive back to your fiancée, you were always there with her okay? I’m sure she needs you now.” Voight had ordered him but Jay didn't respond at first. “Halstead.”
At that point Jay focused his gaze on his boss and nodded feebly, casting one last glance at the stalker before walking away.
He wiped his face and hands with a handkerchief he had found in the car, trying to ignore the pain in his swelled hand, his knuckles red.
He never regretted what he did.
He had always condemned the brutal ways some cops used, like his own boss did sometimes, but in that moment he didn't stop to think about how he’d not hesitate even a second to do it again and make suffer anyone who’d hurt you.
When it came to you he’d lose his mind, his judgment clouded. You were the most important person in his life, the most precious of treasures, and he’d protect you with his own life if he could, if it meant keep you safe forever. It may have seemed an exaggeration, it may have seemed crazy, but he didn't care, God, he would’ve burn the entire city to the ground if it meant protecting you.
And as he drove to the district, eager to see you again, only one thought ran through his mind: how much he regretted not making that piece of shit suffer more.
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reiderwriter · 2 months
Note
For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!
A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️
Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).
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Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 
After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 
At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 
So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 
Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 
Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 
The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 
“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 
“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 
You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 
Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 
If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 
“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 
You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 
You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 
But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 
“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”
Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 
He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 
“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 
His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 
“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 
“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 
“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.
“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 
“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 
You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 
Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 
“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”
“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 
“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 
“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 
“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 
Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 
It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 
He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 
He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 
And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 
He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 
He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 
“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 
“Mom!” 
“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 
It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 
The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 
“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 
“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 
“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 
“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”
“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 
Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 
“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 
He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 
“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 
He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 
“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 
“Yes.” 
“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 
“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 
“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.
He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 
“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 
“You're serious?” 
“I guess…. I guess I am.”
“And you're… you're single.” 
Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 
“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”
“Neither do FBI agents.” 
“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 
“Definitely.” 
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peachesofteal · 7 months
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That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.
Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:
The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.
268: 38.5 degrees.
Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.
You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.
"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.
His brow furrows above the black mask.
"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.
"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.
"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.
"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."
"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.
"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.
He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.
"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.
"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.
"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.
"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."
"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.
"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.
“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.
Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.
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imshymorph · 2 months
Text
Here’s soft!price, i’m sure you missed him or at least i did. Of course as soon as i say i’ll write and post about ghost i get ideas for everyone and their mother and write those instead.
I believe that sometimes, when John is away for a mission and struggles to fall asleep, he thinks back to moments in your relationship.
Like now, it had been at least an hour since he had left the rec room where the rest of the task force had been chatting after supper. He had gotten ready for bed and finally found a comfortable position. And yet here he was, still awake despite how tired he really felt.
And just like any other time he had the chance to, he let himself think of you. First he was thinking about how you'd probably be knocked out by now, for sure falling asleep while the two of you watched a movie on the couch and cuddled.
- - - - -
How he'd pause it so you wouldn't miss anything, pick you up carefully to not wake you and carry you to bed. Hold you close and pull the covers around you both before pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a soft "i love you".
A little amused smile appeared on his lips when those three little words made him jump onto a different memory. One that you referred to as "the unofficial first i love you".
It had started when John received a call from the hospital, not giving the nurse the chance to say more than your name and at what desk he should ask to see you before he was fleeing base and coming to you (even if at that time you hadn’t been together for that long).
To this day you defend how overly dramatic he was, sure you had been in the ER, but it had been "just" because of a minor concussion. You had wanted to snack on some chocolate covered almonds while watching your show, but when you went to get them you had realised the little container had been pushed to the farthest part of the cupboard. Even in your tiptoes, your fingers only grazed the container, not getting enough of a grip to pull it forward.
Determined to have your snack you had gotten a step stool (which John had been happy to hear because he had worked really hard on getting rid of your dumb habit of climbing on the counter). What you hadn’t noticed was that the damned kitchen faucet had been leaking again. So when you got on it and leaned forward, the stool slid back, the movement making you bend forward and smack your head on the cupboard’s edge. After feeling dizzy you had called for a cab and gotten to the ER. And there you were, waiting for him to pick you up.
He had gotten leave for the first few days and kept to deskwork for a couple weeks after to make sure he was available were anything else to happen. He was glad he had done so, as the first week had mainly been you on bedrest with a killer headache, feeling dizzy nearly every time you sat up, almost nauseated whenever you had to walk to the bathroom.
He now was able to admit to himself without guilt that, despite how much he hated the circumstances (the faucet didn’t have the chance to be leaky again from then until you moved in together to the house you now share. And your step stools have grippy stickers on the feet) he loved the perfect excuse it gave him to baby you and hold you all day. Which had led to the memory that made him smile every time.
“John, I'm bored… Talk to me about something.” You murmured, your head resting on the crook of his neck to shield your eyes from the light that managed to filter through the curtains. “Anything, really.”
“Hmm, let me think.” He murmured, his gruff and low voice surprisingly being of help with your headache, giving you something to focus on instead of the pain. “I actually thought about this last week… You haven’t been to France, have you? Maybe when you recover we could plan a weekend trip to Paris.”
He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you chuckle, although it withered a bit when a small pained whimper followed, the pair flaring at the effort. “I’m okay.” You reassured almost instantly, “I just hadn’t expected the topic to be France.”
A low chuckle left him as well, “well, you said I could talk about anything, love.” He justified it with a small self-pleased smile before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Need me to bring anything to help with the pain?”
“No, it’s fine.” You reassured softly, adjusting a bit in his arms. “Don’t change topics now, you were promising to take me on a trip.” you say lightheartedly, earning a small laugh from him. “I’m making a big effort here to recover, I better get something good after.”
He chuckled again, one hand moving to rub your back, making you smile against his neck. “Making the effort for me or for the trip, doll?” He teased, but he froze when your answer came, his heart beating faster than he could admit and the warmth on his cheeks luckily hidden by his beard.
“For you, of course.” It had been so simple, and yet he had to stare at the ceiling for a full minute to recover from it, feeling like his heart could jump out of his chest at any moment. And before he could realise, he had gently held your chin and pulled back a bit to look you in the eye.
“I hope you don’t tease me for the rest of our lives for saying this now, but… I love you, I love you so much.” His words had left in a soft murmur, his eyes matching your widening ones as you both processed the moment.
A small shaky breath left you and despite your prominent headache you lunged forward, pressing your lips to his in what he still considered one of the best kisses he had ever received (the list was pretty long but all of them classified after the one on your wedding). “I love you too.” you had said softly as you pulled back, just to immediately slap his shoulder. “But why tell me now, you twat. I’m stuck in bed, we can’t do anything cute like a date night.”
It had caused him to chuckle then and it did now as he adjusted his pillow and pulled the covers a little higher. The official version according to you was a month later, when you both had snuck away for a weekend to the Paris trip he had promised. You had planned an incredibly cliché day out but pretty much none of it had worked out when a storm had drenched the whole city. Somehow you had found yourself taking cover in a quaint and cosy jazz club where you had spent all night chatting away in a small booth.
He could still remember the adoring look in your eyes when he had turned back to you after ordering new drinks for you both. And when you had leaned in and said those three little words, he had known he had been right to say it a month before. His heart soaring and his whole body thrumming in delight when he whispered it back before kissing you.
With a soft smile and a quiet murmur of I love you, John passed his thumb over the wedding band that hung around his neck along with his dog tags before finally falling asleep.
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nickfowlerrr · 6 months
Note
Would you rather:
Walk in on dbf!Lee pleasuring himself to your pictures or have Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode while he’s fucking you 💞
it's no secret
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pairing: dbf!lee bodecker x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. reader is at minimum 25 but there's still an age gap. male masturbation. unprotected smut. lee being referred to as "daddy". honestly not as nasty as i was originally imagining this to be, and not as forbidden as most dbf tropes should probably be lol sorry.
words: 3.7k
notes: i was gonna say bucky, i really was, but then i got to thinking, and suddenly my fingers got to typing, and now here we are lol. pls enjoy.
thank you in advance for reading! comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated.
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You were essentially blackmailed into coming along on this weekend trip to the family cabin by your dad. A promise that he wouldn't tell your mom about your holiday plans, and how they didn't involve you coming home this year, in exchange for your presence on this "family" trip. 
Unfortunately, your father failed to mention the last minute change of plans that included a few more people than you were prepared for staying at the cabin with you. 
Your room was yours, but all the other ones were now taken by family friends; some you knew, and some you'd only just met. As annoyed as you were at the number of people around, the presence of one in particular kept you from loading up your car and faking a work emergency to head back to your apartment in the city.
Lee Bodecker was a relatively new friend of your dad's, but his impression was lasting to say the least.
He was tall and thick, had a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, gorgeous blue eyes and the beginnings of crow's feet around them that only added to his attractiveness; you couldn’t deny that his age and respectability were part of what held your attention. His chestnut hair was dark with gray that shone through around his hairline and the badge he wore on his belt caught your eye, too. A sheriff. Hm. He had this air about him, this unspoken confidence and a powerful, authoritative presence that had you just a little more than interested in the man.
You had met a few weeks back at your dad's birthday party. He had caught you staring at him from across the room as he spoke to a group of people crowded around him, while you were sitting on the couch alone, nursing your soda and watching the party go on around you.
You hadn’t meant to stare, didn't even realize you were, until his sapphire eyes met yours. The twitch of a smirk playing on his lips as he returned your gaze sent a thrill up your spine, but you simply looked away, taking a sip from your drink as you crossed your legs and got more comfortable on the sofa.
You felt his eyes on you for a moment longer before the heavy weight of his gaze fell away. It wasn't long after that that a heavy weight soon fell next to you on the loveseat. 
Most of the guests, and your parents, were drunk as the party continued all around you, no one paying much of any attention to you or Lee as you sat right up against one another.
You set your drink on the side table before you turned slightly with a raised brow to your unexpected company.
“Hope you don’t mind me comin over, darlin’,” he began easily, “you looked a little lonely sittin here by yourself.”
His arm moved to stretch across the back of the couch, inviting you in closer to him than you already were.
“Did I?” you questioned. “Well, I appreciate you tearing yourself away from your enraptured audience just to offer me some company.”
You and Lee spoke for a long while, his charm effortless, his hand wandering, and that damn lopsided smirk never faltering as he flirted and teased you with fleeting touches… his big, warm palm sliding up your exposed thigh, under the tight material of your dress in a game of chicken until he was reluctantly pulled away from you by the badgering of your dad and his drunken friends, needing Lee to recount the story you were sure they’d all hear a million times by now. 
You had had enough yourself for one night, so adjusted the hem of your dress that would have been riding up your thick thighs regardless, and grabbed your purse and keys.
“Maybe I’ll see you around,” you said as you moved past him to get to your dad first, needing to say your goodbyes to your parents before you left.
“You will,” Lee rumbled in his reply, his voice a little deeper now than it had been earlier as he watched you walk in front of him, the view leaving him licking his lips as he fought to keep his hands to himself.
And he was right. 
You weren’t expecting him to be here this weekend, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 
All day had been spent with you both stealing glances at one another and trying repeatedly to get close, only for someone to come by and ruin any chance you had to even speak. 
It wasn’t until that night that you finally had some alone time with Lee.
Your parents were leading a hike up the mountain to see the stars that everyone wanted to join in on. Everyone but you two.
Lee had said goodnight to the group as they started getting ready to take off while you hung back, making sure everyone had everything they’d need. You helped spray your mom’s friend’s kids with bug repellent and double checked the flashlight batteries on the bigger lights before giving your portable phone charger to your dad, just in case, before the group of them left for their hike.
You were surprisingly giddy as you watched them all take off down the path. You waited a few minutes, making sure no one was gonna change their minds about the long night hike and turn around. You did a quick look around the cabin to ensure it really was just you and Lee and when you were satisfied, you went to your room to change into something more…easily accessible. 
You fussed over your hair needlessly for a minute in the bathroom before adjusting the straps of your night slip.
As you padded down the hallway from your room to the one Lee was staying in, you slowed when you heard noise coming from his direction.
The closer you got, the more the anticipation built as you realized what it was you were hearing.
Lee’s grunts and moans filled the empty hallway and had your pussy fluttering as your heart pounded. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to ease the growing desire but it did little to satisfy you as his voice only rose. 
When you were at the door, you realized that it wasn’t completely closed. He’d left it ajar.
You saw the glow of his phone from over his shoulder as he sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing away from the door.
You didn’t have to guess to know what it was he was doing, his fist moving tortuously over his thick cock as he pumped himself. It did surprise you, though, when you made out what it was he was looking at; more aptly, who he was looking at.
You recognized your picture from your private instagram account, the one you kept family off of. It was for your sexier pictures, the ones you didn’t always feel comfortable posting on your main. You’d followed Lee from that account the day after you’d met, your mom had posted a picture from the party and tagged him, among others, in the group pictures, and you took the opportunity as it was presented to you.
You’d messaged each other when you got the spare chance, exchanged numbers, and talked more these past weeks. So much so, you had even told him you were going to be out of town for this trip this weekend. 
The cocky smile he wore when he saw you this afternoon let you know why he hadn’t decided to share that he’d be here too. The look of surprise on your face was exactly what he wanted to see.
He’d tried to set up a time to see you in the time between your meeting and now, but you were always busy when he was free and vice versa. Honestly, a part of him was worried if you knew he’d be here, you would’ve found a way out. 
God, was he wrong. 
You’d been desperate for this man since the night you met him.
As you pushed the door further open, you couldn’t help but admire his form. He was naked as he sat on the edge of the bed, the muscles in his solid back flexing as his strong arm moved up and down while he stroked himself.
You didn’t even realize you were breathing heavier as you inched closer, his moans the only thing you could focus on now.
Lee could sense you coming up behind him, he heard you when you pushed the door open, and now he was really putting on a show for you. He wanted you to know exactly what you did to him, with just a goddamn photo. He wanted you to hear how fucking good you make him feel without even having to have his hands on you. 
You aren’t thinking as you climb onto the bed, crawling closer to him until you're against him entirely. You take a second before you allow your hands to touch him, slipping them up his back, over his shoulders and down his chest as he purrs, leaning back into you.
You’re mesmerized by his movements, his fist pumping over his leaking cock as he keeps his eyes on his phone, your photo taking up the screen as his mind runs wild with all the things he wants to do to you. 
“As good of a picture as that is,” you speak headily in his ear, causing goosebumps to break out over his skin, “I’m sure I can do more for you in person.” You smile as he licks his pink lips, taking his phone from him before gently tossing it up the bed.
“‘Bout damn time,” he responds gruffly, turning to capture your lips in his as he lets go of his cock. He holds your head with one hand as he threatens to consume you with his kiss alone.
He then reaches his arm down and takes you by the waist as he moves to lay down on the bed in the same moment, everything much more hurried now as he urges you to move on top of him.
Lee is completely naked as you straddle him, your night slip raised over your hips to allow the position. 
“Fuck I’ve been picturing you like this since the night of your dad’s party,” he said as his hands moved from your thighs, up your hips, and under the slip to push it up your body further.
“Let’s not talk about my dad right now,” you rasped before you allowed him to raise the slip higher, finally pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side.
“How pissed do you think he’d be if he knew his precious daughter was seconds away from riding his friend’s cock in his own cabin, huh?”
“Lee, please,” you moan with a pout.
He chuckles as he reaches a hand up from your hip to your breasts, pinching a nipple meanly as you whine, moving your hips over his to no avail. He keeps you exactly where he wants you.
“You made me wait, it’s only fair, darlin’,” he smirks, clearly enjoying himself.
“You’re gonna be left waiting even longer if they get back soon,” you try to argue.
“You think I won’t still fuck you if your parents are here?” he asks as he takes hold of his cock again. You move your hips, trying to make it easier for him to position himself as he moves his dripping cockhead up and down your slit. You moan helplessly as he rubs against your clit, leaning over him as you urge him to just put it in already. His tauntings aren’t doing anything to help, either.
You can feel his tip at your entrance as you feel his lips against your ear, 
“Let your dad hear you screamin’ daddy,” he growls as he thrusts into you at last, a wanton moan escaping you as your hands find purchase on his shoulders. 
He growls again as your walls grip his length. He holds you there for a long moment as you adjust to his intrusion, his fingers digging into your fleshy hips.
“God, you feel so good,” you whimper before you begin to move atop him, his hands leading your movements.
Your head falls back in pleasure as you ride him, the way he fills you up, a delight you don’t think you’ve ever experienced. 
Lee watches you with heavy lids, his blue eyes dark with unrestrained lust. He lets you take control as you move your hips over his, chasing your own pleasure as each move stimulates your clit.
He can’t stop himself though, eventually his hips jerk up into you, causing you to clench around him, your hold on him tightening when he begins fucking up into you with abandon.
You fall onto him with a cry as he grips your ass almost painfully.
The first slap he lands is sharp and stings but has your walls gripping his shaft even tighter.
“You like that, baby?” he snickers through a moan as you babble mindlessly, his cock still thrusting into you as his hips never slow.
The second slap burns more than the first but Lee quickly follows it up with his palm massaging the sting gently as you moan meekly.
“Daddy asked you a question, darlin’,” he taunts as his pace slows. The drag of his cock is still long and deep, though. He ensures you feel every inch of him as he slides in and out of your cunt. 
“Yes,” you answer as you pick your hips up and down, wanting it harder.
Another slap has you gasping as you peer up at Lee. Your mouth goes dry at the look in his eyes as his hips stop moving entirely.
“Yes, daddy,” you murmur as you hold his stare.
A growl ripes from his throat at your words as he holds your waist tightly, flipping you so you’re on your back as he hovers above you.
The sight of Lee between your legs sends a new wave of slickness to your pussy as you relax into the bed with a pleasured sigh.
He positions himself at your entrance and slides right in, pulling you closer by your hips as he thrusts into your wet heat.
He groans as he leans over you, looking down at your exposed body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
You’re stunned at his words. You knew he was attracted to you, duh, but there was something so genuine about the way he said it. It sent a flutter to your belly as you couldn’t do anything but stare back up at him with doe eyes as he fucked you so perfectly.
You reached up and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips into his as your response. He licked into your mouth and you let him dominate the kiss as you followed his lead.
He finally broke it when you were both nearly out of breath. 
“Goddamn perfect,” he husked as he leaned back up, rolling his hips into yours, his cock sliding right against the spot you most wanted to feel him. He groped your breasts, kneading them with his large hand, playing with your nipples as he growled and groaned, his touch and filthy sounds only spurning you on further.
“Lee,” you whimpered, grabbing at him as your walls tightened, that coil in your belly tightening more and more with his every thrust.
“‘M right there, baby. Right there with you,” he huffed, “just a little more.”
“Please,” you breathed, your eyes squeezing tightly as you tried to hold off your orgasm just a little longer, “please, Lee.”
He grunted, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as he fucked your harder, stretching you delightfully. 
“Please come with me, Daddy, please,” you begged, earning a deep thrust and a symphony of sinful noises and curses from the man pounding into you. Another harsh thrust had you nearly squealing as you finally came around his thick length, the hot pleasure shooting through you before crashing down wave after euphoric wave as your body tensed and shook.
Cries of pleasure and his name like a prayer left your lips as your walls milked his cock, his come filling you up as he let himself burst inside of you. The hot, thick ropes of his release hitting your walls had you squeezing him tighter as you whimpered beneath him.
As you began to come down and tried to regulate your breathing, his hand on your face had you opening your eyes before they closed once more as he pressed his swollen lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep as his hips slowed and stilled against yours while your hands found his face in return, holding him to you. His cock softened and slipped out of you, causing you to murmur into the kiss at the loss of him. He smirked against your lips before he ended it, pressing his forehead to yours instead as you breathed each other in. 
You peered into his eyes as he stared down at you.
There was a softness in his gaze that you swear could’ve had you melting into the mattress right then and there.
He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but return it as you smiled demurely back.
Your thumb mindlessly stroked his cheek before he nuzzled into your touch. Lee let his body lay down next to you on the mattress, holding your hand against his face and pulling your body closer to his with his free hand.
He sighed contentedly as you turned into him. 
“Was the wait worth it?” you asked softly.
He looked to you, squeezing you just a bit tighter, “Well worth it.”
You laughed, “Good. I’m glad. We’ll have to do this again sometime,” you simpered, pushing off of him, turning back to get off the bed.
“Where do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?” he said, stopping you from leaving.
“What, I can’t stay in here. My mom’ll realize I’m not in my room and freak out. She’s paranoid about me being taken by some mystery monster up here, has been since I was a kid,” you reminisced. 
“Darlin’,” he drawled, rolling over you once again, “I think she already knows you’ve been taken by the monster,”
You laughed as he attacked your neck with kisses, holding you close to him. 
“Oh, and you, Sheriff, you’re the monster?”
“Mhm. Prepared to take her daughter away to his lair. Keep her all to himself,” he murmured against your skin.
“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said, running your fingers through his short hair, “I don’t foresee her putting up much of a fight.”
You could feel his smirk before he pulled away to look you in the eyes once again. 
“I am serious, darlin’. I think she already knows we may be up to something.”
“How would she possibly know that?”
He sighed, turned and layed down next to you again, “I asked your dad for his permission before I tried to ask you out the other week.”
“What? You did?” you asked in disbelief, “and he said yes?”
“I was as shocked as you are,” he smiled. “He asked me the other day at work how it went and when I told him we hadn’t been able to set anything up, he invited me here this weekend.”
“Ah,” all the pieces were connecting now as you let out a breathless chuckle. “Hm.”
“There a problem with that?”
“No,” you shook your head, “no, I just. I don’t normally tell my parents about the people I see until things are, uhm…serious, I guess?... And I mean, this was great, I would absolutely love to do it again,” you smiled, “but, uh, what exactly are we doing? Just so we’re on the same page, so we know where we stand.”
“Sex is great,” he agreed, “but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t hoping for more.”
“More as in, like, dating?”
He turned to be face to face with you before he spoke, “That was my intention.”
You nodded then, fighting a bigger smile from breaking out across your face. 
“Okay,” as you spoke, you could hear the front door downstairs open. Your eyes went wide as your head shot to the still open door of the room, “Shit. Well for now, I’d prefer my parents not know I desecrated their beloved cabin by getting creampied by their friend in the bed that they paid for,” you whisper ranted as you clamored off the bed and pulled your night slip back on. You were about to rush to the door, trying to beat them up the stairs as Lee sat up and leaned against the headboard, watching you, quite entertained by your frantic state before you stopped in your tracks, turned around and padded back over to him, “I’ll leave my door open, but you’ll have to wait until my parents shut their light off if you want round two,” you whispered, kissing him gently before slipping away just as fast, shutting his door behind you. All he could do was smile, still basking in the afterglow and the idea of what was still to come.
It was an hour later, after your mom had checked in on you - a habit from the past twenty something years since they’d bought the cabin - and their lights went out across the hall, that your bed dipped as Lee quietly crawled in beside you.
His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed against your ear,
“You said somethin’ bout round two. Much as I loved hearin’ you moan for me, let’s see how quiet you can be for Daddy.”
You whimpered almost inaudibly, but Lee heard it anyway, his large hand coming up to your throat, instantly causing you to get even more wet for him as he squeezed ever so slightly.
“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?” he prompted, a wicked smirk on his lips as he pressed his boxer cover erection against your bare ass.
Your voice was a pathetic whisper as you pressed back against him,
“Yes, Daddy.”
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Kiss It Better Pt. I
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Summary: Melissa engages in a game of kickball with her students and takes a nasty tumble. With the help of her colleagues, she makes her way to you, the school nurse.
Word Count: 4.6k
CW/TW: Mentions of hospitals and injuries
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Although Melissa was a seasoned teacher, sometimes it was challenging to get into the swing of things after a nice vacation. While she was used to instructing two classes, the job still came with its fair share of tough days. The holiday break was much needed, considering it gave her time to recuperate from the first semester.
Originally, she hadn’t planned on going anywhere, and was fully content with spending two weeks at home with her feet kicked up. That was until she heard you complaining about the brutal winter weather. You weren't native to the north, and though you'd lived there for some time, you hadn't adjusted to the seasonal changes.
The more you mentioned it, the more she realized the feeling was mutual. She decided it wouldn't hurt to ring in the New Year differently, so the two of you brainstormed destinations and settled on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Florida. She had a guy who could get her discounted plane tickets and a hotel room for little to nothing. Before she knew it, she was getting sunkissed on Palm Beach. She’d be making a ton of ziti to return the favor, but the bottomless margaritas and adrenaline-filled nights at the casino were more than worth it.
It was now a week later and with her mind still on island time, she hoped for a relaxed first day back. The class was rowdy when they arrived, but that was to be expected. They were excited to be with each other after a couple of weeks away, but luckily they could themselves down without much of her guidance. So far the day was going well, and she was teaching her last morning lesson before recess.
The class was reading silently, making it the perfect time to catch up on some emails. Most of them were from parents, but she had one from Ava with the schedule of upcoming meetings for the remainder of the year. The first one was tomorrow morning meaning she had to wake up extra early.
She rolled her eyes, and the expression only intensified as she skimmed through the rest of the message. According to the principal, breakfast would be provided. However, the last time Ava promised to provide food, the “breakfast” in question was fun-sized boxes of cereal from the cafeteria. She would definitely need her extra-large Stanley Tucci mug to get through tomorrow morning.
She had one last email to read and was delighted to see your name attached to it. The message was marked as a priority, declaring the content to be urgent. It was a reminder for all teachers, asking them to collect and return the forms the students received before the break. As the school nurse, part of your job was ensuring that the kids had updated health records on file.
As for Melissa's class, just about everyone remembered to have their guardians fill out your forms, and she planned to give them to you later today. That prompted her to text you so she could see what your schedule looked like.
M: Hey, I’ll bring those forms to you during my planning period
↪ You sure? I don't mind stopping by your class later
You knew someone was bound to forget to deliver the forms, so you’d have to snag them at the end of the day.
M: I’ll bring them, hon. One less trip you’ll have to make.
Truthfully, the redhead wanted an excuse to see you, and her planning period conveniently took place when your day came to a lull.
↪ Thanks! You’re amazing!! 
Melissa’s lips curled upward at your compliment.
M: I might sit with you for a few when I come down. Is that okay?
She was considerate of your job, and no matter how much she wanted to see you during the day, she never wanted to interfere with your work.
↪ Of course that’s okay. You’re always welcome. Just let me know when you’re headed down
For the most part, your relationship was under wraps. Everyone who needed to know was informed, and everyone else was left to assume. And assume they did, because your affinity for each other was a hot topic around the school. Abbott loved to talk, but Melissa had eyes and ears all over–literally.
She’d become acquaintances with a couple members of the camera crew, and their knowledge combined with Barb’s allowed her to obtain information from virtually every square inch of the building. Just about everything that was said made its way back to the source. However, it didn’t bother either of you. If anything, it was amusing, and you found fun in keeping everyone guessing.
Engaged in her reverie, Melissa didn't notice the child standing directly beside her until the small voice spoke. “Ms. Schemmenti.”
Startled by their presence, she nearly jumped out of her seat. A hand clutched at her chest causing the young girl to laugh. “Jeez, Mya!” 
“Sorry.” She motioned toward the clock on the opposite side of the room. “Isn't it time for recess?
Melissa looked to where her student was pointing and saw it was 11:20 AM. Crap. They were supposed to be gone five minutes ago. She thanked the girl for telling her, then stood up to alert everyone else.
"Alright, my little eagles, it’s time for recess! We’re a little late because I got distracted, but you guys aren’t surprised, right?” A unison of “no” echoed around the room. “That was a rhetorical question, but thank you for the enthusiastic responses.”
She answered queries about the meaning of ‘rhetorical’, while everyone got their coats on. It was considerably cold, but not cold enough for the school to cancel outside activities. Melissa didn’t mind since this was her kid’s way of getting their energy out and she always made sure everyone had enough clothing on to protect them from the chill.
Once everyone was ready, they walked down the hall in formation. Melissa’s class was large, and while it could be hard to wrangle them all, they did a pretty good job at keeping each other in check. 
“I can’t believe we lost a whole 5 minutes,” Daniel whined from the back of the line. It was quiet, but Melissa still heard, so she slowed her steps to meet him once he strolled by.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” When he didn’t respond she spoke again. “How about this? I’ll do a class vote, and then youse can decide what I owe you.”
Even though the boy accepted her apology, he still hung his head low. Melissa squeezed his shoulder for good measure, then let him free as they approached the doors that led outside.
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“Melissa!” Janine shouted, waving the redhead over to her. “I was looking for you guys. What happened?”
“Hey, kid. I was reading emails and lost track of time.” Melissa explained as she walked over to the second grade teacher.
“I had a lot of those too! Did you see Ava sent that one email, like, three times? It was so weird,” she laughed and Melissa agreed. “I bet your kids were sad about being late, huh?”
“You shoulda seen their faces when I told them they lost some time,” Melissa shared. “I might as well have told them Santa wasn’t real.”
Janine stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, knowing the exact look Melissa was referring to. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still getting used to the flow of things too. The first day back is always a little rocky for me.”
“I’m usually okay, but I don’t know what happened today.” Melissa shrugged, looking off into the distance (Except she knew exactly what happened, and it was you).
“Well, they seem pretty happy now that they’re out here, so that’s good,” Janine noted.
“Yeah, but I’m sure I’ll be making it up to them for the next few weeks.” Melissa sighed and Janine nodded in agreement, knowing how relentless kids could be.
“Oh, one of your students is coming over here. I spoke too soon, it looks like he has a bone to pick with you.” She nudged the woman in her side.
Melissa narrowed her eyes before turning toward the student. “Hey, Daniel. What’s up?”
“Can you please play with us?” The little boy asked politely.
She looked across the playground and saw a group of students eyeing her expectantly. She couldn’t deny that it tugged at her heartstrings to see them so eager. However, playing with them wasn’t exactly on the agenda today.
“Oh, I don’t know, hon. There isn't much time left, and I’m sure you don’t want me slowing your game down.”
“Please, we really want you to play. And you said you’d make it up to us, remember?” He reminded her. 
This wasn’t her ideal way of making it up, but when Melissa looked down at the boy’s big, hopeful eyes, she couldn’t say no. She looked toward Janine and of course, she was looking at her with just as much expectation as the kids. The next thing Melissa knew, she was involved in a lively kickball game.
“Ms. Schemmenti, Ivy’s cheating!” Tyler yelled as soon as Melissa stepped up to the makeshift base. “I caught the ball, so that means she’s out!”
“I’m not cheating! The ball slipped out of your hands, so I’m still in the game!” Ivy yelled back at him.
“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!” He teased. “You’re out!”
Melissa knew that it wouldn’t be an elementary school game if there wasn’t a little drama, but she had to hold her laughter back as she listened to their banter. “Okay, that’s enough, guys. Now, Tyler, tell me what happened again.”
“Ivy kicked the ball and I caught it, so that means she’s out.” He explained to her.
Instead of handling the situation herself, she decided to play the mediator. “Okay, How many people saw Tyler catch the ball?” Almost everyone raised their hand, so she turned to the girl to give her a sad smile. “Sorry, hon. You gotta follow the rules.”
“No fair!” The girl crossed her arms over her chest and began to stomp away.
Before she got far, Melissa gave the child a proposition. “Hey, how about I let you run the bases for me? That way you can stay in the game.” Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the running mood, and due to the cold, her joints were stiff. She also didn’t want the child to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. This way, everyone got what they wanted.
“Deal!” Her mood instantly changed, and Melissa received a wide grin and a high five.
“All right, Ivy’s gonna run for me.” She announced to the group.
“I think that’s against the rules.” Someone piped up from behind her.
“Well, I’ve got a bad knee, so I ain’t running anywhere.” The teacher emphasized her point by wagging her index finger from side to side.
“Well, Ms. Schemmenti, you did say we have to follow the rules.” Ivy recited the woman's recent words.
Melissa closed her eyes and released a sigh at the girl's remark, now regretting using that exact phrase. “Alright, Alright.” The teacher relented. As much as she wanted to disagree with the girl, she was right, and it would be unfair to go against her word. “I’ll run, but go easy on me.” 
“Okay, everyone get into position!” Tyler yelled, alerting his classmates that the game was about to start. He rolled the ball down to the teacher, and the woman gave her best kick without using her full power. They were undoubtedly faster than her, but she was certainly stronger, and everyone needed a fair shot. 
She then ran to first base and was pleased with herself at how quickly she got there. She hadn’t played a game like this in a while, so it was gratifying to see that she still could. The confidence boost allowed her to make it past the next two bases. Tyler hurled the ball in an attempt to get her out, and she dodged it.
Melissa soon realized that was a mistake once she tripped. The heel of her boot got caught on an uneven patch of grass and she failed to regain balance. Her ankle rolled inward and she collapsed with a thud. A series of gasps filled the air, and within seconds she was surrounded by concerned children. They were too scared to touch her, but that didn’t stop them from getting help.
“Teacher down! Teacher down!” A shrill voice shouted at the top of their lungs.
While Melissa was thankful for the effort, she was unhappy about the attention she now received. Embarrassment was an emotion she rarely felt, but today it was warranted. Listening to her students' frantic chatter gave her something to focus on other than the blush burning her face. 
“Okay, let’s back up! Give Ms. Schemmenti some space, please!” Janine's voice of reason rang through all the chatter.
The kids inched away, but only far enough so Janine could have access. It was clear they were protective of their teacher, as they wouldn't take their eyes away for a second in case something were to happen.
Janine held her hand over her mouth as she kneeled in front of the woman. “Oh my God, Melissa! What happened? Are you okay? Can you get up?”
Once the crowd dissipated some, the woman felt she could move freely. She sat up, dusted her hands off, then brushed the debris from her clothes.
“M’fine,” she muttered in response to Janine’s frantic questioning.
“Are you sure? You fell pretty hard.” Janine noted her flushed cheeks and she could only imagine how she felt. Being that she’d embarrassed herself countless times, she had an idea, though she’d never been in this exact situation.
Melissa smoothed her hair back into place, ignoring the sympathetic look on the younger woman’s face. The expression made her want to crawl into a hole and never return. “Thank you for that riveting statement.” 
She reached out for Janine’s hand, a silent invitation for her assistance, and felt herself being tugged into an upright position. She hadn't felt it at first, but once she planted her right foot on the ground, a searing pain shot through it. Reflexively, her arm slung across the shorter woman’s shoulder to keep herself steady. She hissed, then hung her head low in an attempt to conceal the pain on her face. 
“What’s wrong?” Anxiety laced the junior teacher’s voice, but Melissa just ignored her, unable to simultaneously be in pain and answer questions. She took another step, thinking she could walk it off, but she was sorely mistaken. A groan slipped from her mouth and the sound shocked her as much as it did Janine. 
The latter's steps halted, almost causing the injured woman to topple over. “Okay, you’re obviously hurt. I think you should go see Y/N.”
At the mention of your name, the redhead straightened her posture. There was no way in hell she would go to your office and interrupt your day for something minor like this. She wasn't bleeding or dying, so she wouldn't have you fussing over her when you had students to care for. “I'll be okay. I just need to make it to my classroom.”
Janine bit the inside of her cheek, a telltale sign that her worry was increasing. “I don’t know, Melissa. I think you should let them take a look at it.” 
She tried to stand on her own to prove a point, but she simply couldn’t do it. The pain only grew with her efforts, and tears began to prick at her eyes. “Just let me sit down for a bit, okay? I’ll go see Y/N after lunch if it still hurts.”
Janine settled for the compromise and recruited a teacher to watch their kids while she got Melissa inside. It was a challenging effort, but miraculously, they made it back safely. They received a few strange looks from other staff members, but Janine warded their concerns away with a smile. Once they arrived, she helped Melissa get settled at her desk.
“Don’t worry about your class, I’ll bring them back,” Janine assured her. “Do you need anything while I’m here? I could get Barbara if she’s–”
Melissa immediately shook her head. The very last thing she needed was for Barb to find out. “That's okay.” 
Janine gave a wary look in return, as she wasn’t expecting her coworker to deny that offer. “Are you sure?”
She huffed, sick of the questions, and took a beat before answering. “Just bring my kids back, please. That’s all I need right now.”
She wasn’t in any position to argue with that, so she accepted the task. “Okay, I’ll have them back in no time.”
“Thanks, pipsqueak,” Melissa said, causing the woman to take on a disgruntled look. Though she wasn't happy about the circumstances, she switched her tone to show her true appreciation. “Really, Janine, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled, happy that she could complete a good deed for the day.
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Moments later, Melissa was reunited with her rambunctious class. They came pouring in, not even bothering to take their coats off as they filled the empty space around her desk. Despite the considerable change in climate, they were too invested in her situation to care. 
“We heard you fell.”
“Are the second graders in trouble?”
“Did you break your leg?!”
“Are you going to the hospital?”
“Who’s gonna take us to lunch?”
She broke her silence to address the last comment. “Really, Elijah? That’s what’s on your mind?” 
“I’m sorry, Ms. S, but I’m starving.” He rubbed his belly in broad strokes.
“Don’t worry, you’re gonna get to lunch on time.” While that was great news, it only answered one of their burning questions. They continued to stare her down and she caved at the sincerity. “I know I probably scared some of you, but I’m okay. My leg is not broken, and no, I will not be going to the hospital. Most importantly, no one is in trouble, capisce?”
When she received answers of understanding, she moved on to the next order of business. “Now, let me see who’s gonna walk youse to lunch.”
“Ms. Teagues can take us, or Mrs. Howard!” A student announced excitedly, waving in the direction of the door where both teachers were standing. However, Melissa was so focused on consoling her class and making sure they got fed, that she didn’t notice their presence.
She tried to roll toward the class phone, but it was on the opposite side of the desk. The feat was too large, so she grabbed her cell instead. She scrolled to Janine’s contact, internally swearing that this would be the last favor she asked of her. “Mrs. Howard might be busy, hon, so I think Ms. Teagues is our best bet.”
Elijah grabbed the woman’s attention again. “No, she's not. Mrs. Howard is right there.” He nodded toward the outskirts of the crowd. 
Barbara’s deep eyes shone with concern as they met Melissa’s, but the redhead could only scrunch her face in confusion. What the hell? she thought, but it all made sense once she saw Janine sporting a guilt-ridden expression.
Her lips thinned into a smile as she tried to keep her composure. “Ms. Teagues, do you mind taking them to lunch? I’d appreciate it so much.”
Janine knew what that look meant, so she was quick to speak. “Not at all! Come on guys, grab your lunches if you brought one today.” Once everyone was ready, they made a swift exit because she didn't want to face Melissa’s wrath.
As the last footsteps trickled out, quiet fell over the teachers. Barbara’s eyes never left her best friend, inspecting her from head to toe, watching as Melissa twiddled her thumbs. It irked Barb that she wasn’t paying the slightest attention and she would not tolerate being blatantly ignored. “Melissa Schemmenti! Are you going to tell me what's going on?”
Melissa proceeded to avoid eye contact. She picked up a pen along with a stack of papers as if she were about to grade them. Her petulance sent Barb over the edge. If she didn’t want to tell her, that was fine, but she was tired of this little game.
“You know, I was trying to give you a chance to tell me yourself, but it seems you would rather act like a child.” The woman smirked, knowing her next words would get a reaction. “Janine already told me what happened.”
“I told her to keep her mouth shut!” Melissa curled her hands into fists and banged them against the wood. “I’m gonna kill that girl!”
“Not with one working ankle, you won’t,” Barbara quipped.
“I'll find someone to do it for me.” She shot back, not in the mood for jokes.
Barbara just rolled her eyes, disregarding her friend's dramatic nature. “So what’s your plan? Are you going to roll around in this chair all day?”
“Just leave it alone, will you?” Melissa was getting tired of the third degree from everyone. If she wanted to sit in her room all day, why did it matter to them? It was her injury, not theirs.
“I will not leave it alone! Not until you go see Y/N.”
She looked the older woman directly in her eyes for the first time today. “I’m not goin’, Barb.”
“You will, or I’ll tell them to come to you. Better yet, I'll drag you to an urgent care.” Barbara crossed her arms and gave Melissa a daring look.
“Oh, now you’re out of your mind,” Melissa scoffed. Even though they were in her classroom, if she could get up and walk away, she’d leave Barb right there with her delusions.
The woman gasped audibly at the insinuation that she was crazy. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me out of my mind.”
“You sure? 'Cause that sounds pretty insane to me.” She twisted her pen in a circle near her head, showcasing how absurd the idea sounded.
“No, Melissa, what's insane is you sitting here with an injury, making no attempts to seek medical attention, when there's a perfectly capable nurse in the building!” Her hands moved fervently as she spoke, the pearls around her neck rattling from the action. “Since you won't go on your own, I’ll get someone to take you.” With that, she marched out of the room, having had enough of her obstinacy.
“Barb, don’t you dare!” She yelled, but there was no use as the woman was halfway down the hall due to the speed she was walking.
She groaned in frustration, not faring well with having one working foot. The dull ache was a constant reminder of what occurred, and though she knew it was in her best interest to see you, she wasn't in enough pain to seek your help. But leave it to her colleagues to put their noses into her business.
She reached for her purse and rifled through it before pulling out a compact mirror. If she was going to be seen in this state, she wanted to make sure she looked presentable. As she met her reflection, she frowned. Her hair was out of place, her eyelashes were wonky, and there were a few spots where her makeup had smudged. She fixed what she could, applying lip gloss to finish her look. As she ran a brush through her strands, footsteps approached her room.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She threw her head back as Gregory came through her door. “Why are you here?”
Gregory almost looked as confused as her, and as he prepared to speak, Barb cut him off.
“To escort you to Y/N's office.” She smiled kindly, directing her pearly whites in Gregory's direction.
Melissa side-eyed the man, adding a mean mug to show her dismay. “But Barb, I don't need—”
“Ah, ah, no buts." She held a hand up to silence her. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go teach, but I expect you to have your injuries mended when you return.” She didn't walk away until she received final confirmation from Gregory.
“Oh, yeah, I'll make sure of it,” he promised. Though he was content with minding his business, he'd only agreed to this because Barb wouldn't take no for an answer.
Melissa sighed as the man moved to stand behind her, in preparation to wheel her out. She turned around so he could understand the grave meaning behind her words. “Just take me there. Don't ask any questions and don't tell anyone what you saw.”
“Oh, I already know how you roll.” After receiving another dirty look from the redhead, he noticed his poor choice of words. He tucked his lips into his mouth, then bowed his head before saying, “I'm sorry.”
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You didn’t expect the first day back to be so crazy, but it had been jam-packed with injuries. Nose bleeds, headaches, fevers, stomach aches, you name it. You didn’t mind though because it made the day go faster. You had one more student to tend to before your break, so you decided to clean your office before their arrival. You disinfected the cots and countertops, as well as your little waiting area, and then you took inventory of your supplies and stocked up on whatever you’d need for the last half of the day.
“Hey, nurse Y/N!” Melissa’s student, Daniel, waved excitedly as he entered your office. He gave you a quick hug before retreating to his original spot.
“Hey, buddy! How was your break?” You loved hearing about what the kids did during their time off. He told you about the trip he took to visit family in New York, and how he got to spend the holidays with his grandmother who he hadn’t seen since he was a baby. He also mentioned all the good food he ate and the presents he received. “That’s awesome! It sounds like you had a great time.”
“Yeah, it was pretty great. What did you do?” The curious boy asked.
“I went to Florida,” you said casually, hoping to get a reaction out of him. When he gasped in shock, you flashed a grin in his direction.
“No way! That’s so much cooler than New York.” Daniel was infatuated with Florida, on the account of Disney World, and he made it known that he would save every penny ever given to him in hopes of being able to afford a ticket to the attraction.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t go see Mickey Mouse without you.” You knew the question was on the tip of his tongue. “But it was a pretty cool trip.”
“Ms. Schemmenti went to Florida too!” He informed you, still looking at you with stars in his eyes. 
You smiled as he told you the bits and pieces that Melissa shared with his class, minus the details of her gambling adventures. However, you weren’t sure she left out 100% of the details, because Daniel recalled her saying that she would incorporate some new card games into their math lessons to “teach them some new strategies”. Leave it to Melissa to teach her students how to outsmart each other.
“It sounds like she had a lot of fun!” You exclaimed, taking in the events as if you weren’t there to experience them firsthand. Her students were ridiculously smart, so you were ready for him to catch on to the similarities in your story, but he didn’t. 
You busied yourself with preparing his medication so he could make his way to the cafeteria. Daniel had cystic fibrosis, so he took pancreatic enzymes to aid his absorption of nutrients. He took them before every meal and snack, so he was a frequent flyer in your office. “Alright, dude, I got your pills ready. You just need to get some water.” He gladly accepted the paper cup from your hand and walked toward the water fountain. 
You looked around the room as he took his meds, and the absence of another child caught your attention. Normally, Melissa utilized the buddy system to ensure that her students made it to their destination safely. “Did you walk here by yourself?” 
“No, Ms. Teagues walked us to lunch today.”
You scrunched your eyebrows in pure confusion. “Why was Ms. Teagues taking you to lunch?”
“Ms. Schemmenti hurt herself so she couldn't take us,” he explained.
Hearing Melissa’s name in the same breath as the word ‘hurt’ made your heart rate pick up, but you kept a poker face. “Really? How’d that happen?”
A guilty expression crossed his face, and he released a deep breath before speaking. “Well, we were playing kickball during recess and she fell. It was kind of scary, but then she got up and everything was okay. At least I think she’s okay.”
“What makes you say that?” You tried to get as much information as you could before the bell rang, signaling that it was time for the younger kids’ lunch. 
“She told us she wasn’t in pain, but I don’t think that’s true.”
You hadn’t assessed the woman yet, but you agreed with his statement because you knew how Melissa was. She worked hard to keep up her tough persona, but even the students could see past it sometimes. “You guys really roughed her up out there, huh?”
The boy shrugged sheepishly. “We didn’t mean for her to get hurt. She’s one of our favorite teachers, and we just wanted to have some fun.”
You could see he truly felt bad, so you attempted to cheer him up. “It was very nice of you guys to include her. I’m sure she appreciated that.” You smiled. “Don’t feel too bad, okay?”
He nodded, and with that, the bell rang. You walked him to the exit and sent him on his way, but now without a hug goodbye. “Have a good lunch. I’ll see you later for a snack.” 
Once he made it down the hallway, you focused on the sight directly to your left: Melissa sitting in her desk chair with Gregory at her side, standing against the wall, as if he were her bodyguard (though that would be a pointless duty because everyone knew Melissa didn’t need a guard).
You motioned them into your office so they'd be out of the crossfire of hungry kids. The pair looked at you with blank faces, and you stared at them with your hands on your hips. “Well, what do we have here?”
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A/N: Hey, how are ya? It’s been a while and I’ve missed writing immensely. I'm a little nervous about posting again, but I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! P.S. Special thanks to everyone who voted on the poll <3
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The Farmer's Daughter 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.
"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."
She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."
"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.
"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.
"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"
"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."
"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."
"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"
"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."
"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"
"Wouldn't it?" You ask.
She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?
Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.
A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.
"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.
"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"
Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"
"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."
"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."
"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.
"I can't, I got the groceries--"
"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."
"Hon," she sighs.
"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.
"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.
"I will."
Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.
You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.
The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.
You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.
You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.
A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.
"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.
"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."
You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.
"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.
He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.
"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.
"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"
Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.
"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.
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thepaperpanda · 1 year
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Under His Watchful Eye || Douma x fem!reader
Summary: you are found injured by worshippers of Douma after being attacked by a wild animal in the mountains. You're taken to his temple where you're cared for and nursed back to health under the watchful eye of his. As time passes, Douma becomes attached to you, but when you disobey his order one day, he becomes angry and decides to punish you accordingly 
Warnings: smut with plot 🔞 & the reader asking far too many questions in the end 😀
Word count: 7792
Authors: Cass & Rouge
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As you hiked through the mountain trails, the fresh air and beautiful scenery made you feel invigorated. However, that feeling quickly vanished when a wild animal attacked you out of nowhere. You tried to defend yourself, but the creature was too strong and vicious, leaving you badly injured and alone. You were almost certain you would die.
Just when you thought you couldn't go any further after attempting to getting back home, a group of strange individuals appeared before you. They were dressed in long, flowing robes and had a serene look on their faces.
You felt weak in your knees and fell down to the frozen ground, shaking uncontrollably all over your exhausted body.
"Are you okay?" A female voice asked.
You tried to speak, but your throat was dry. You managed to nod, and they helped you to your feet. You leaned on one of them as they guided you into an unknown direction. "You must come with us," one of them said softly, taking your arm. 
"Poor thing, look at all those wounds," the other person added within sad tone.
You were too weak to resist as they led you deeper into the forest, eventually arriving at a small sanctuary.
As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the strange symbols painted on the rocks and trees around you. The people were quiet, and you could only hear the sound of the wind and the snow under their feet.
The last thing you remembered was the warmness of the interiors surrounding you. Then you lost your consciousness.
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Douma was pleasantly surprised today by something he did not expect. A very attractive female human was brought into his shrine, which he would even call a miracle; he wouldn't have to take any efforts to find someone new for his pleasures. He had to keep the girl there.
"Don't look at me like that. You should know what I expect. Take care of this poor thing. Treat her wounds, give her a bath, and dress her. Let her rest," he instructed.
He smiled at two of his dear followers, who were not really sure what to do with the newcomer. He was growing curious about how the girl really looked without all the blood and dirt on her. Sadly, he would have to wait to satisfy his curiosity.
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As time passed, you found yourself gradually regaining your strength. Though you still spent most of your days sleeping, you were surprised to find that a group of women were taking excellent care of you.
One day, as you slowly opened your eyes, you noticed a woman sitting beside you. "Oh, you're awake!" She exclaimed with a smile.
You rubbed your eyes and sat up a little, taking in your surroundings. The room was cozy and filled with dim light of candles. "Where am I?"
"You're in our sanctuary, in our lord's place," the woman replied. "My name is Aka, and I'm one of those who found you in the woods. You were very ill and injured, and we've been taking care of you for the past few weeks."
You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, as well as shock when you realized how much time had passed. "You said weeks?" You inquired, your voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, my.... Thank you for everything."
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As the days passed, you continued to regain your strength. You were amazed at the kindness and compassion of these strangers who had taken you in and nursed you back to health. And as you looked around at the warm and welcoming home they had created, you knew that you were in good hands. At least that was the impression you'd received.
Meantime, Douma made sure to take care of you by sending someone to fetch something nice for you, and finally, he had a chance to see you in your full glory - free of any life-threatening illness, clean, and dressed in fine clothes. 
He personally couldn't wait to meet you and learn who you were. There were so many things he could do with and to you! It made him so excited that a shiver ran down his spine.
As Douma walked into the room that served you as your chamber, he hummed melodically, "My, my, my! Why did no one tell me that you are awake? I would have come sooner to see you." 
However, he stopped when he saw your surprised expression and turned to face the other woman standing near the door, "Oh, Aka, my dear. Haven't you told her everything yet?"
Aka, one of your trusted followers, approached the tall man with a heavy heart. She informed him that she had not been able to tell you everything that she had wanted to, and she was deeply sorry for letting him down.
You bowed your head to the man after softening your kimono, overwhelmed with gratitude for the kindness he had shown you. "Thank you so much, sir," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for taking care of me," you added with your head still bowed, "but I will never forget the hospitality you have offered me. I am forever in your debt."
He had to admit that you were a pretty one. You must have been tasty, but on the other hand, it would be a shame to simply consume you. Perhaps he could keep you around as a pet? He had tried it before, but it didn't work out as he had wanted. Maybe if you behaved, who knows?
With a smile, he said, "Oh, no need to thank me, sweetheart! How could I say no to someone in need? I am happy to finally see you in good shape. What's your name, dear?"
You dared to raise your head a little to take a closer look at him.
He stood before you with an imposing presence. He was a tall and muscular young man with a noticeably pale complexion, and his long and pointed nails seemed stained with a pale blue color. His hair was either silver or a pale golden blond, parted to the left, with shorter strands flaring out to either side of his face and a longer spiral drape down his back. His eyes were incredibly rare and beautiful, appearing to be made up of an array of rainbow pastel tones that faded into one another as they circled his irises. You caught yourself staring in his eyes a little longer than you were supposed to, so you instantly bowed your head once more, trying to pay proper respect to him. "My name's Y/N, sir. If not you and your people, I'd be long dead, eaten by wild animals or maybe even demons themselves."
If only you knew! Douma couldn't help but giggle softly at the idea of how oblivious you were. It was adorable!
"Well, then I guess you are the lucky one. Do you have any family or a home?"
You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "It's just that I don't have a family or a home. Sometimes it feels like something's missing."
He quickly walked up to you and cupped your cheeks, rubbing your soft, warm skin with his slender, cold thumbs. "Well, well, Y/N, not only were you saved, but you have also found a new home. You can stay here, and I will gladly take care of you."
You were shocked by how cold his hands were. You could feel the icy chill radiating from his fingers as they pressed against your skin. The sudden coldness caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but shiver at the sensation. You had never felt hands that cold before, and it left you momentarily speechless. Despite the coldness, however, his touch was gentle, and you could sense the kindness in his eyes as he spoke to you. You forced yourself to focus on his words, trying to ignore the frigid sensation spreading through your cheeks.
You were shocked by the man's kindness and hospitality he and his people had shown you. 
He had taken you in when you were lost, hurt and alone, and had even offered to help you still. You couldn't believe that someone who was a stranger to you could be so generous. "Thank you so much," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know how to repay you for your kindness, sir."
"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart. I only hope that dear Aka will explain everything you need to know," he said, looking at the other woman significantly. "Now, rest some more and make sure you eat well. I will come back later to have a private conversation with you."
"Sir," you whispered hesitantly, barely moving your lips. "Can I at least have your name?"
"It's Douma," he said with a smile. "If you listen carefully to what Aka says, my dear Y/N, you will know everything."
As you and Aka were speaking together after Douma had left the chamber, she began to describe him to you. "He is a wise man," Aka said, her voice soft with reminiscence. "He has a way of seeing the world that few others could match. When he speaks, it is as if the entire room fell silent, hanging on his every word."
You nodded, listening intently as Aka continued to speak.
"Master Douma is also fiercely loyal to his followers," she added, a small smile crossing her lips. "He would do anything to protect us, to ensure our safety and happiness."
You couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the man she described. Even though you had only met him briefly, you could sense that there was something special about him.
As your conversation with Aka continued, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of curiosity about the man known as Douma. What other secrets and wisdom had he imparted to his followers? And what was his ultimate goal in life? These were questions that you knew you would have to seek answers to in the days and weeks to come.
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The longer you stayed with Douma, the more he grew fond of you. It was obvious that you had become his favorite, as you were the only one living with him permanently. He kept you safe and took care of you the best way he could.
You were like his little pet, and he loved making sure that you were happy because you looked better that way. You were always so eager to talk to him and spend time with him, which he found simply adorable. He could have feasted on you, but keeping you around was much better - it made the boring times more interesting.
"What's going through that little head of yours?" Douma asked, getting comfortable on a big pillow while he played with your hair, your head resting on his lap.
You lay with your head rested on Douma's lap, looking up at the ceiling of his room with a mixture of thoughtfulness and disbelief. "I can't believe you took me under your wings," you told him. "And you never wanted anything in return." You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
The past few weeks you spent by Douma's side were a whirlwind of new experiences and insights. You followed him everywhere, learning who he was and how he lived his life. He introduced you to his followers, who welcomed you with open arms and showed you the ropes.
However, as you grew closer to Douma, you began to notice some of his followers becoming jealous. They would shoot you looks of disdain and make snide remarks when you were around. At first, you tried to brush it off, but as time went on, their behavior began to wear on you.
Despite the jealousy of some of his followers, Douma continued to show you kindness and respect. He patiently answered your questions and taught you his ways, never once making you feel inferior. You were grateful for his guidance and felt privileged to be so close to him.
In the end, you knew that Douma's influence had changed you for the better. You had learned so much from him, not only about his ways but about yourself as well.
As the weeks went by, you felt yourself growing more and more fond of him, and sometimes even felt strange tickling within your abdomen when he was casting you a glance over the room full of his followers.
You turned to Douma, feeling at ease in his presence. "I feel very well here," you told him, "but I'd like to visit my little hut and take some things from there. I'd also like to visit my brother's grave."
"And for what? You have everything here. You don't need your old stuff or to visit your brother," he rolled his eyes, growing slightly annoyed with your idea. He had given you everything, and yet you still cared about something so silly and trivial. Your brother was nothing but a corpse, rotting in the ground. "Besides, would you really leave me here all alone and sad? Do you want me to die of a broken heart?" He asked dramatically.
"I..." You whispered, turning your glance away from him. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to upset you, Douma."
Your mind wandered to your brother's grave. You thought about how much you missed him and how you wished you could visit him more often. The cemetery was only a few miles away probably, and you knew you could easily sneak out during the night for just an hour or two. You promised yourself that you'd do it, that night or some other time when Douma wouldn't notice, being busy with his errands.
"You didn't upset me, my dear Y/N. It just hurts me that you worry about those things when I make sure you have everything," he purred, easily pulling you up and setting you comfortably on his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you. "Don't you feel good here, with me?"
You looked deeply into Douma's eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you. "Douma," you whispered, reaching out slowly to caress one of his cheeks gently, "I want you to know that I feel really good by your side. You make me feel safe and sound, and I'm grateful for that." You paused for a moment, taking in the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light casted by a lot of candles set around the room. "You know, I never thought I could trust someone so completely, but with you, it just comes naturally."
The demon purred at your touch and nodded. You were his and there was no need for you to seek anything else beyond what he could give you. "Now you see, I can give you everything you ask for, so there is no need to visit your old life, my sweet little Y/N," he whispered before kissing your cheek.
As Douma leaned in to kiss your cheek, you felt your face flushing with a warm hue. His lips were cold, yet soft and tender against your skin, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest. "Douma," a weak whisper left your parted lips as you clutched on his shoulders. You moved your head to face him, your cheeks still tinged with pink. "You're right, just as always, my dear master."
He laughed, gently grabbing and squeezing your cheeks. "Look at you! So pretty and cute," Douma chuckled as he played with your soft skin, grazing it with his sharp nails. "I am wondering... If this made you blush so much, then what will this do?"
He grasped your cheeks a bit harder than before and kissed your lips.
Once Douma's lips were pressed to yours, you couldn't help but let out a quiet gasp that quickly turned into a moan. Despite his lips being rather cold, the kiss he offered tasted sweet like honey. The way his tongue moved along your teeth, the way his perfect teeth grabbed your tongue, everything about the kiss was igniting emotions you didn't know you still held within you.
You found yourself wrapping your arms around Douma's neck, pulling him closer to you. You felt his body pressing against yours, his closeness enveloping you. The scent of him filled your nostrils, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk.
Your heart raced as you lost yourself in the moment, feeling completely consumed by the passion between you. For a moment, nothing else mattered but the two of you, locked in a fiery embrace.
You pulled yourself away from Douma after a while, looking him in the rainbow-coloured eyes; his eyes were mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but get lost in them for a moment. "Douma…"
"So pretty and so full of color," he laughed, moving his thumbs across your skin.
Douma indeed enjoyed having you here. He loved that you were such a good pet. He had grown used to having you around, especially loving it when you sat on his lap.
Of course, Douma was aware of the jealousy of some followers, and as a good owner, he took care of some of those who were a threat to his beloved pet. When you noticed this, he explained that they had just left. Thankfully, you always accepted this explanation.
"It's getting late. Aren't you tired?" Douma asked, a hint of worry within his tone.
"Just a little bit, my master," you replied, your cheeks still flushed. You bit your lower lip after his comment about you having a lot of colours. You didn't know how he was doing it, but he was always making your heart skipping a beat.
"Well, then don't sit up late, little one. I want my little girl to be well-rested," he kissed your cheek one last time before gently pushing you off his lap.
You tried your best to keep your composure, but your heart was racing and your felt like whining as Douma pushed you off his lap. Your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Good night, my master," you smiled at him, bowing your head down. 
After that you left his chamber. Of course you had to bump on a group of his the most dedicated followers; their led you down the corridor with a mean glances, and you could swear you heard them whispering about you. Yet, you decided to not pay attention.
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You had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning in your bed as the memory of Douma's anger haunted you. You had mentioned leaving the shrine, hoping to visit your brother's grave, but the expression on Douma's face had been rather a nasty one; you'd never seen him like that; the change within him was immediate and unexpected.
You tried to push the memory away, to think of other things, but it kept coming back to you, replaying over and over in your mind. You wondered for a second or two if you had made a mistake in confiding in him, in trusting him with your deepest desires and fears.
As the night wore on, you grew more and more exhausted, but still, you couldn't sleep. You finally decided that you couldn't stay in the bed any longer. 
You got up from your bed, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake anyone. You changed into some other clothes, careful to pick things that wouldn't make too much noise as you moved. You didn't want anyone to know that you were leaving, especially not Douma. After putting on a thick fur Douma gifted you with some time before, you were ready.
You didn't want to attract attention by carrying too much, so you decided to leave your bag in the room. You checked your pockets for anything important, making sure you had your keys. 
Finally, you took a deep breath and opened the door to your room. You stepped out into the hallway, the floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. You listened carefully for any sounds, but the shrine was quiet.
You made your way to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned the handle slowly, hoping it wouldn't make too much noise, and pushed the door open. A gust of cool air hit your face, and you stepped outside into the night. You closed the door behind you, trying to be as quiet as possible, and set off down the path, hoping that you were making the right decision.
Douma could come across as a silly man with his overly friendly behavior. He could seem like someone easy to fool, but oh, you were so mistaken!
A pair of rainbow eyes watched you leave from behind the golden fan. He knew it would happen, he knew you wouldn't really sit on your ass as you should. Douma knew you would be back, of course you would for there was nothing waiting for you out there. You had no reason to leave for good, but of course, you had to fulfill your little ideas.
"Bad, bad pet," Douma whispered to himself. He already planned how he was going to punish you and make you stay with him forever.
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As you arrived at the old graveyard, you felt a sense of melancholy wash over you. Memories of childhood days spent with your brother came flooding back, as you made your way to his final resting place. The grave was still and silent, surrounded by the peaceful stillness of the cemetery.
You took out the bouquet of flowers you had managed to gather. With careful hands, you placed them gently on your brother's grave. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as you remembered the good times you shared with him. Before you managed to regain your composure, you shed a tear.
The wind picked up, blowing gently through the trees, rustling the leaves and reminding you of the fleeting nature of life. You stood there for a few moments longer, lost in your thoughts, before finally turning to leave. As you walked away, you promised yourself that you would always remember your brother, and keep his memory alive in your heart.
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As you made your way towards the Eternal Paradise Faith shrine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. The sky was beginning to brighten, and you knew that the sun would soon rise. You quickened your pace, determined to reach the shrine before dawn.
Finally, you arrived at the entrance, and were greeted by the serene surroundings of the shrine. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the sound of chanting people filled your ears. You took a moment to take in your surroundings, appreciating the peaceful atmosphere and the stunning architecture of the shrine.
Oh, you were a little oblivious bunny, so sure that you could get away with this little thing. 
He was going to let you think you were the smart one, that you could go behind his back. Douma honestly wondered if maybe you would tell him at some point, admit to your wrongdoings, and beg for forgiveness.
So he waited, pretending he knew nothing, letting you believe he was naive.
The whole day passed, and he heard nothing from you, and it made him mad. He summoned you to see him, just like he did every evening.
Despite feeling curious and a bit uneasy, you went straight to meet him after taking a long bath.
You stepped forward and pushed open the door to Douma's chamber, the hinges creaking as you entered. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows across the walls. "My master, you summoned me."
He looked at you with a sweet smile, resting his cheek on his hand. "Here comes my favorite. Don't be scared, I simply missed you, my little Y/N."
You felt that there was something off about his behavior. It was difficult to put your finger on it, but there was a sense that he was holding something back or not being entirely truthful. Maybe it was the way his rainbow-coloured eyes were looking at you, as if they were about to pierce right through your soul or the hesitation in his voice when he spoke. Whatever it was, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. 
Taking a few steps, you came closer to his bed.
He blinked, feigning concern for you. "Is something wrong, my dear? Come here," he said, beckoning you to sit on his lap.
Once you were seated comfortably, he took your palm in his and gave your hand a little kiss. "What is bothering you? Is someone talking bad about you again?"
"It's not that, my master," you replied, trying to regain the control over your uncontrollably shaking body. "I... I just did something bad."
"Oh, you poor, little thing! You did something bad?" Douma hummed as both of his hands rested on your waist, caressing the soft curves. "Oh, I am sure you did... Or maybe you decided to go behind my back and visit your brother?" He asked. "Will you be a good girl and answer my question?"
As you sat on his lap, listening to him speak, your heart began to race when he mentioned your brother. Memories of last night's trip occupied your mind, and your anxiety only grew stronger with each passing moment. "I left the shrine without your permission."
"I understand that. So, now, can you be a good girl and answer my question?"
You only nodded your head, lowering your chin to avoid his gaze.
"Look at me," Douma ordered.
Once you looked at him, he gave you his kind smile, but his hands tightened on your waist, his long nails digging into your skin through the clothes. "Do you think I am stupid? Do you think I am a fool you can play around with?"
"Of course not, my master. I apologize for not obeying your order. Please, forgive me my reckless behavior, master Douma," you begged, most likely sounding like a pathetic whore.
"I should throw you out!" Douma snapped, squeezing you even harder. "I should throw you away and let you die in the wilderness like I didn't when my people found you."
His words grew louder and more aggressive with each passing moment, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.
As he continued to speak, you felt the tears forming in your eyes. You tried your best to hold them back, but the emotion was simply too overwhelming. You could feel the hot tears trickling down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand.
"Oh, you're crying now? How pathetic," Douma chuckled. "You're alive only because I allowed you to live. I saved your life and didn't turn you into my next meal. You should be grateful for what I did! I gave you everything that you lacked in your life, and this is how you repay me?!"
In that moment, you wished you could simply disappear. You wanted nothing more than to escape from Douma's presence and find solace in the comfort of your own home. But you knew that you had to stay strong and face the situation head-on, even if it meant enduring the pain and discomfort that came with it. "I'm sorry. Please, master, forgive me."
"And what should I forgive you for? I should just get rid of you," he said, and soon after, he smiled. "You are a pretty, little thing. I should just end your life by devouring you."
As Douma continued to speak, you mustered up all of the courage you had left and spoke up. "I suspected that you were a demon," you said firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. "I've known for a few weeks now," you explained. "But I wasn't sure until now. Thank you for confirming it."
Douma looked at you and let out a maniacal laugh. "And what? Should I feel scared? Oh no! Y/N knows what I am," he pretended to be shocked before pushing you hard off his lap, so you fell to the cold floor.
Licking his lips, Douma looked at you. "And what shall I do with you now? It would be a shame to eat you, but it would be a waste to simply murder you and throw you away. I really don't want to stain my floors with your blood."
As Douma's words continued to cut deep, you sat frozen in shock, unable to move or even speak. Your body felt numb, as if you had been plunged into icy water, and your mind raced with a million different thoughts and emotions.
Despite the discomfort of the cold, hard floor beneath you, you remained in the same position for what felt like an eternity. But eventually, you were able to improve your posture, sitting back on your knees for better support. Your muscles were tense, and your fingers tingled with a strange numbness. "Well. You can do whatever you want. It's not that I have any influence here though."
Douma accepted the offer of 'doing whatever he wants,' which was an interesting proposal and he intended to make use of it. "If you say so, my dear. Let's consider it your way of apologizing to me."
Douma sat up and leant forward to you. His long fingers gently touched your cheek and then moved down, across the skin of your neck, until they reached the fabric of your kimono. He had personally picked it out to make you look even more beautiful. It was a shame to destroy it, but he could always get you a new one.
Douma's cold hands easily ripped the fabric open. "Look at you. So beautiful, yet so disobedient," he remarked, slowly running the tip of his tongue across his lower lip.
At first you only gasped, looking up at him with wide opened eyes. You wanted to ask what does he think he's doing, you wanted to run, you wanted to vanish; too many different emotions filled you up at the same time. "What..." You managed to whisper.
"Oh, don't play dumb, Y/N. I know you want me, no matter if I'm a demon or not," he smirked wryly. "I've always felt that, you little needy thing."
Looking him deep in the eyes, you sat up a little and removed your ripped kimono off; now only your black underwear was keeping you from his hungry eyes.
Douma observed you and nodded. "Now you're acting as you should, but as far as I'm concerned, you're still wearing too many clothes."
You slowly got up and reached to your back, unclasping your bra; your eyes never left his. You pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.
In the next step, you slipped fingers beneath the fabric of your panties and pushed them down your legs, stepping out of them in the end.
Finally, you listened to him as you should have from the very beginning. Finally, the bunny followed its master's wishes. "Good girl," he praised before getting comfortable on his favorite pillow. "What will you do now, I wonder?"
"May I get closer, my master?"
He gave you a nod, observing you curiously to see what would happen next; a ery smirk still glued to his lips.
You sauntered towards his bed, swaying your hips from left to right, and gradually seated yourself on the cushion. With a tinge of embarrassment coloring your face, you cautiously straddled his lap, trying to conceal your shyness.
"Now you feel embarrassed, sweetheart? Be brave, just like when you decided to betray my trust," Douma instructed, stroking your thighs.
His lap felt comfortable and welcoming, just as they always did.
Looking him in the eye, you reached your hands out and started unbuckling his belt with a sense of desire burning within your chest. You reached down and fumbled with the buckle for a moment, your fingers clumsy with anticipation. Finally, you managed to get it undone, and you let out a sigh of relief. The belt slipped free from his waist, and you felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, as you licked your lower lip briefly.
Douma was already enjoying the sight of you. Finally, you knew your rightful place. He rested his chin on his palm as he observed you working.
Now that you were behaving, he was interested in seeing what you planned to do. "Just don't stop, little one. Show me how sorry you are."
With an unhurried pace, you opened the fly of his trousers and met his gaze, only to pause. "I... Well, I haven't done any of those things before, except for one time, but I was drunk and don't remember anything."
He looked at you in disbelief, raising one of his brows up, and sighed softly. Douma shouldn't have been that mad; at least he could teach you a thing or two.
He grabbed you and effortlessly flipped you both so that you were under him. "Oh, my poor, little bunny. I'm gonna teach you, don't worry."
His cold lips pressed a few gentle kisses to your cheeks before he started moving down your naked body, right between your legs.
Your abdomen swelled with an intense burning sensation, accompanied by an unbearable feeling of shame. "Douma, I deeply apologize for letting you down again..." You whispered quietly, and since you didn't know what to do with your hands, you tried to cover your breasts with them.
"Stop covering your body if you wish to avoid disappointing me once more. My dear, unwind and let yourself be at ease," he whispered, kissing the soft flesh of your thigh. He then dived between your parted thighs and started slowly lapping at your beautiful pussy.
You let out a moan as he continued to lap and lick at your sensitive areas, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. 
You had never felt this way before with anyone else. The sensation that Douma was causing was intense and overwhelming. You couldn't believe that someone could make you feel this good.
As the pleasure spread throughout your body, filling every single cell with desire, you let go of your prudery and slipped your hands into his beautiful, blonde locks, moaning his name and trying to buck your hips to gain more friction.
His rainbow eyes looked up and took in the pretty expression you made for him. He couldn't wait to see that face again when he fucks you. 
He pulled away from you and bit the inside of your thigh.
As his teeth sank into your soft flesh, you couldn't help but moan. The bite was so powerful that his canines punctured through your skin, causing a few droplets of blood to surface. 
You grabbed him be a sleeve of his turtleneck and pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs tightly around his waist, kissing all over his sharp, perfect jawline.
"Oh, you're an eager one, aren't you?" He chuckled, pulling away to undress for you. Since you were in need, he couldn't keep you waiting for much longer.
Douma quickly got rid of his clothes and smiled, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. He grasped his member and gave it a few jerks before moving it through your lips, teasing your clit. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" 
You watche him getting undressed while biting your lower lip, slipping one of your hands between your parted thighs to tease your clitoris.
Douma was a man with a lean and muscular build. He had striking features - a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and beautiful lips. His eyes were an unusual rainbow color, and they glimmered with a mischievous and seductive light. His skin was cold to the touch, and he exuded an aura of danger and mystery. 
It all made you blush even harder, but a soft moan escaped through your parted lips when you felt his rock-hard cock rubbing through your folds. "Fuck me," you whimpered, looking him directly into his eyes.
He didn't think twice before pushing into you, watching your face twist in pleasure. His hand grasped your waist, pulling you gently as he thrusted in. He lowered himself and started whispering into your ear, "Look at you, getting fucked by a demon. I'm going to breed you nice and full."
Your nails dug into the skin on his back as he snapped his hips into you. 
The pleasure was immense, and all you could do was moan his name softly while rolling your head back, resting it on his pillow.
Douma didn't give you time to adjust, so at first, all of his thrusts felt like a burning fire within your core. Yet, with time, your walls loosened, welcoming his girth with anticipation.
Douma wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing it as his hips moved even faster. His other hand moved between your bodies, pinching your clit. "That's it, my little flower, that's it."
Your whimpers and moans grew louder as he increased his brutal pace. You wrapped one of your hands around his wrist, which was set on your neck, and begged him to fuck you even harder. "Douma! Ah! Just like that!" You moaned loudly, trying to buck your hips into his to deepen his thrusts.
"My little whore, soon you will be nice and full, and then everyone will have a reason to be really jealous of you," he growled, snapping his hips even harder into you. The grip on your throat tightened; he was curious about how much you could take.
"H-harder!" You begged. "Can I... Can I try?"
He stopped and looked at you while stroking your calf. "Tell me what you want."
With all your strength, you flipped both of you over so that you were on top of him, his member still deeply buried inside your pussy. "That's better," you whispered, resting your hands on his broad chest and slowly bucking your hips back and forth, making sure to sink on his cock fully, deepening each thrust.
"You little fucking liar!" Douma growled through clenched teeth, grabbing your hips strongly, digging his digits in your soft flesh. "You said you haven't done any of those things, but look at you now, riding me like a whore."
"I didn't lie, master Douma," you moaned, rolling your head back a little at the pleasure spreading throughout your body. His grasp of your hips left you certain you would find some bruises there the next day. "I'm a quick learner."
"Show me what you have learned."
Supporting your weight on his chest, you increased your pace; your pussy started spasming around his already throbbing cock. "Oh! Oh! I'll cum!"
Douma smiled widely, "Very good, my little petal. Cum and let me fill your little, tight cunt up."
You grasped one of his hands and moved it up to your neck. With each movement you were feeling how his throbbing cock massaged your walls, pressing the sweet spot hidden there.
Douma's hand wrapped tightly around your neck as he sat up to thrust his hips into you even harder. "Don't hold it back, Y/N, cum for me."
Your movements became sloppy and the knot that once formed within your abdomen snapped; your cum milked his cock as you screamed his name, rolling your head back in an immense pleasure.
Douma let out a loud, guttural grunt as he came deep inside of you. The feeling of your warm insides filled with his slickly cum was something he craved so much since the day he laid his eyes on you. "That's my good girl. I think I can forgive you for that little thing from today."
You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and hugged him, still letting him nestle his cock in you; gasping for air you barely understood what he was talking to you. His scent filled your nostrils and in the end, after calming down from your peak, you asked him quietly, "Aren't you mad at me anymore? I promise I won't be disobedient."
"If you keep that promise, I won't be mad. You know I like it when you listen to me, especially since I do a lot to take care of you," he said, slipping his hand in your hair, in the end resting it at the crown of your head, holding you there.
Slowly and carefully getting off of him, you looked him in the eyes. "Douma?"
"What is it, my little pet?"
"Do you really like me?"
"Obviously, I do. If I didn't, you would be dead as soon as you recovered. But here you are, and I am taking care of you."
After a few seconds of silence, you dropped another question. "Can I stay... Can I stay for the rest of the night with you?"
Douma rubbed his chin, pretending to think, before giving you a nod moments later. "Of course, I can't say no to my favorite girl."
After making yourself comfortable by his side, you blushed slightly, feeling your mixed, slick cums oozing out of your pussy. "Have you slept with your other worshippers, too?"
"Yes. I have been with both men and women before," he said simply with a little shrug. It wasn't anything special for him. "But it was a long time ago. Don't worry, you are my special girl, my one and only."
Your eyes widened and you truly wanted to comment and asked more questions about that, but you decided to stay quiet. Instead, you dropped yet another question. "Can I be a demon too?"
"Oh no, you are too cute for that," he chuckled and booped your nose. "But maybe one day, if I decide that I want you to stay with me for eternity, we'll think about that."
"So if you're a demon, my lord, are there other demons out there? I heard a lot of stories, and people were always talking, but I haven't seen one myself. Are they having their cults as well?"
"Oh yes, there are, and they won't hesitate to eat you up. So be grateful I took you into my care. With me, you will be safe," he assured you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "And no, they don't have cults, as far as I know."
After resting your head upon his chest, you went silent for a moment, only to return to asking questions again. "Are you going to devour me one day?"
Douma let out a loud laughter and shook his head. "I don't fancy playing with my food, and I have decided that I want you to stay with me. Of course, if you keep being a brat and completely strip me of my patience, with a heavy heart, but yes, I will devour you."
You shivered and tried to hide your head under his shoulder. "Can I meet other demons? Are you having demon friends? Are they coming here to devour people as well?"
He looked at you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, we do have afternoon tea quite often, but none of my friends enjoy it. Quite a shame, truly, but oh well, that's their problem. And no, I am not letting any of them lay an eye, or even six, on you."
You gritted your teeth and shivered once again, not being sure if he was being serious. "Have I ever bumped into one of them, not being aware?"
Douma looked at you and placed his hand over your beating heart. "Well, since you are alive and here with me, the answer is no. You surely didn't bump into any demons without being aware."
You placed a few tiny kisses to his chest. "One last question, and I promise I'll let you rest. Why did you choose not to eat me once I was taken to your temple by your people? Oh, and are you the strongest demon? I think you must be."
Douma watched you, resting his head on his hand. "I just decided to let you live. Honestly, I planned to eat you as soon as you were nursed back to health, but I changed my mind," he shrugged a little, pointing at his eyes. "Not to brag, my dear, but I am the number two."
You once again tried to hide your head under his arm, but after a moment, you straddled his lap again, cupping his cheeks in your hands, taking a closer look into his eyes. Only then you noticed the number written in his irises. "Oh, my, how silly I was to not notice it! But truly, I don't care. To me, my lord is the strongest."
He grabbed your cheeks and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "That's my smart girl. This is how things should be, little one. You make me more proud with every moment when you're acting like a good, obedient pet."
After the kiss you looked him deeply in his eyes. "Aren't you tired, my lord?"
"No, I am fine but you can rest, as all humans do. I will make sure my little petal is safe."
"Lord Douma?"
"Hmmm?"
"I love you…"
Douma was taken aback by your confession of love to him. Since he was a child, he was unable to fully understand human emotions, and the concept of love was something foreign to him. He stared at you for a moment, trying to process your words. In the end, with a soft smile, he gently grasped your chin between his slender fingers and kissed the bridge of your pretty nose. "I appreciate your feelings, but love is not something that I am familiar with. I care for you deeply, that's the fact, but I do not know if I can reciprocate your feelings in the same way."
"I understand, my lord. It means the world to me still," you got off of him again and made yourself comfortable on his chest, oh he was so soft, even if a little cold. 
With time, your eyes started closing and eventually you drifted off to sleep.
All Douma knew was that he wanted to keep you around. It seemed like you were already a much better pet than the last one, but he was going to keep watching you with his careful eye. If you ever got on his nerves again, he wouldn't hesitate to get rid of you in the most brutal way possible.
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