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#ow has taken over my life
10kiaoi · 1 year
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Breathing the same way again
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mysterywheeze · 2 months
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If you've ever struggled with suicidal ideation, this has likely been a particularly difficult week. It certainly has been for me. I've lost a lot of trust in a lot of people. I hope this post doesn't make anyone lose trust in me.
You need to live. That means you, the person reading this post. I don't know your name or your situation but I know, with the same certainty that I know that the Earth is turning, that you need to live.
I know that it can be hard, crushingly hard. I know what it's like to feel so empty that getting out of bed seems impossible, or so overwhelmed that drastic action seems like the only way out.
It isn't. Death is not the answer. It sure as fuck isn't praxis. Please, please do not let anyone convince you otherwise. If you think that your death will have a net positive effect on the world, I promise you, as someone who has been there before, it won't.
And while I encourage you to do what you can to try and make the world a better place - donate to charity, pick up litter, volunteer your time, write your representatives, et cetera - I want to make it clear that those aren't requirements you need to meet to justify being alive. Your life has value, inherently.
Today things may be terrible. They may stay terrible for a while. But one day, a song will get stuck in your head that makes you feel something again. You'll meet a dog that loves you unconditionally. You'll eat a meal that tastes like it was cooked by an angel. You'll pick up a new hobby, perhaps without even realizing it, and it will bring you some sense of satisfaction. You'll watch a beautiful movie. You'll walk past a beautiful mural. Someone will compliment your outfit, someone will laugh at your joke, someone will tell you they're happy to spend time with you. One day you will wake up early enough to see the sun rise.
It's a cliche to say "it will get better". That's because it's true. It probably won't be a linear upward trend, rarely do things stay better forever, but there will come a time when you'll be glad you stayed alive. I promise.
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acesknights · 3 months
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Warlock talking about his daughter but its more like:
I miss her,
I miss her warmth, the way her eyes would squint whenever she smiled, the way she would throw her arms around my shoulder when i came back from deployment.
The way she'd draw with crayons.
I don't miss the feeling of holding her lifeless body in my arms.
I dont miss the cold feeling of her corpse.
I miss that warmth.
I want to hear her voice just one more time.
The things I'd do to see her one more time.
I'd kill a hundred more men.
A thousand more even too.
My dear Anya I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that i didn't act sooner
I'm sorry that i let you go see them,
That should've been me
Przepraszam Anya, bo ja nie byłem tam dla ciebie.
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wistfulenchantress · 24 days
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completed.
EDIT: this has now, as of this edit, reached over 2,000 notes. And I have started doing the things. My life is still far from perfect, but I genuinely do scroll through all the replies and reblogs and watch people get other people to help and reassure me and check on me and it makes me feel so much more loved than i normally do. i'm even going to bed earlier because you said i should. i love all of you so much, and i owe you 2,053 times. all my love, witch.
ORIGINAL POST:
ok here goes. i haven't taken enough care of myself recently. so here we go
if this reaches 100 notes i will start doing yoga again, to help with my anxiety COMPLETE (how you guys are insane)
if this reaches 200 notes i'll start studying more and putting in more effort COMPLETE (o my gosh)
if it reaches 500 i will actually try my best to exercise for the right reasons, instead of random bursts of self-hatred/body hatred COMPLETE (i posted this yesterday evening)
if this reaches 700 notes i will try my absolute best to fix my sleep schedule COMPLETE (ok this is insane)
if this reaches 1000 notes i will be more honest with my therapist COMPLETE (dammit you guys ilysm but this is gonna be hard)
if this reaches 2300 notes i will be more honest with myself about why i am turning to tumblr for this kind of thing and write a poem about it. (this one is a joke since i think 5000 is impossible, and i will write a poem for you guys anyway. i love you) (i’ve now changed this to a more reasonable goal - one really close to what i have now - because honestly i want you guys to succeed because the fact that people are still on this post is insane and it makes me smile.) AND COMPLETE! (i love every person who interacted with this post so much it isn’t even funny. all my gratitude and adoration, witch)
this ends at the beginning of may. you can spam i guess i have 35 followers it prob wont even reach 100. but go ahead, tumblr, do your thing. lol
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mikeo56 · 2 months
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I watched the uncensored video of US airman Aaron Bushnell self-immolating in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington while screaming “Free Palestine”. I hesitated to watch it because I knew once I put it into my mind it’s there for the rest of my life, but I figured I owe him that much. 
I feel like I’ve been picked up and shaken, which I suppose was pretty much what Bushnell was going for. Something to shake the world awake to the reality of what’s happening. Something to snap us out of the brainwashed and distracted stupor of western dystopia and turn our gaze to Gaza.
The sounds stay with you more than the sights. The sound of his gentle, youthful, Michael Cera-like voice as he walked toward the embassy. The sound of the round metal container he stored the accelerant in getting louder as it rolls toward the camera. The sound of Bushnell saying “Free Palestine”, then screaming it, then switching to wordless screams when the pain became too overwhelming, then forcing out one more “Free Palestine” before losing his words for good. The sound of the cop screaming at him to get on the ground over and over again. The sound of a first responder telling police to stop pointing guns at Bushnell’s burning body and go get fire extinguishers.
He remained standing for an unbelievable amount of time while he was burning. I don’t know where he got the strength to do it. He remained standing long after he’d stopped vocalizing.
Bushnell was taken to the hospital, where independent reporter Talia Jane reports that he has died. It was about as horrific a death as a human being can experience, and it was designed to be. 
Shortly before his final act in this world, Bushnell posted the following message on Facebook:
“Many of us like to ask ourselves, ‘What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?’ “The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”
Aaron Bushnell has provided his own answer to this challenge. We’re all providing our own right now.
I would never do what Bushnell did, and I would never recommend anyone else does either. That said, I also can’t deny that his action is having its intended effect: drawing attention to the horrors that are happening in Gaza.
I know this is true because everywhere I see Aaron Bushnell being discussed online I see a massive deluge of pro-Israel trolls frantically swarming the comments in a mad rush to manipulate the narrative. They all understand how destructive it is to US and Israeli information interests for people to be seeing an international news story about a member of the US Air Force self-immolating on camera while screaming “Free Palestine”, and they are doing everything they can to mitigate that damage.
As I write this, there are with absolute certainty people digging through Bushnell’s history searching for dirt that can be spun as evidence that he was a bad person, that he was mentally ill, that he was steered astray by pro-Palestine activists and dissident media — whatever they can make stick. If they find something, literally anything, the smearmeisters and propagandists will run with it as far as they can.
That’s what they’re choosing to do at this point in history. That’s what they would have done during slavery, or the Jim Crow south, or apartheid. That’s what they’re doing while their country commits genocide right now. People are showing what they would have done with their response to Gaza, and they’re showing what they would have done with their response to the self-immolation of Aaron Bushnell.
I’m not going to link to the video here; watching it is a personal decision on which you should probably do your own legwork to make sure it’s really what you want. Whether you watch it or not, it happened, just like the incineration of Gaza is happening right now. We each own our personal response to that reality. This is who we are.
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader
Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending
BROWN JEWEL
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pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader
summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.
warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in
wordcount: 3.1k
a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure
this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.
just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.
you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.
through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.
you had to live for them.
so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.
“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.
“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”
and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.
at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.
“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.
“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”
he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.
every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.
even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.
you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.
an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.
"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."
corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.
“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.
you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.
“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.
your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.
coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.
he’d punish you later.
and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.
dana has a cold?
the medicine was at the front door hours later.
peter hurt himself at the mines?
a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.
not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.
you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.
what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.
“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.
he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.
you didn’t even get to say goodbye.
the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.
coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.
the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.
by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.
your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.
but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.
presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.
you’d never felt more alone.
you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.
“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.
“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.
caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.
during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.
“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.
“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.
you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.
so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.
and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.
coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.
would the baby take you too?
would he be forced to listen to your screams?
would he have to raise the baby he despised?
he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?
your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.
the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.
to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.
snip!
tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.
his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.
and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.
all you ever cared about was the kids.
“has caroline eaten?”
“is ciron awake?”
“is his teacher here yet?”
“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.
or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.
-
you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!
it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.
you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.
“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.
“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.
the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.
for once, you felt happy.
you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.
once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.
“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.
over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.
his brown jewel, all to himself.
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wileys-russo · 2 months
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Matildas content has me in a chokehold for my fav aussie girlies! Would you consider something with kyra x r where the girls notice how easily r stops kyra’s annoying little sister behavior (rip mother steffy) maybe something along the lines of r being sleepy and Kyra being loud, a little “baby, im tired” and kyra’s basically 🤐 and the girls are just like this is all we needed for her to not be a menace lol!
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around her little finger II k.cooney-cross x reader
"mate she's killing me, i really don't know how you put up with her." caitlin grumbled with a huff, shoving kyra away who tickled at the back of her neck with a grin, all of you exhausted after a long day of travel.
"patience and practice." you smiled bumping your shoulder into the older girls who sighed and grabbed her bag, heading into the hotel before kyra could catch her.
there wasn't a need though as of course kyra's attention was on her most favourite person to annoy, steph.
"kyra get off you rat!" steph laughed, shoving kyra away where she tried to clamber onto her back, smacking the younger girl in the back of the head as she reached for her bags.
"ow! babe did you see that? she abused me." your girlfriend turned to you with a pout. "baby you abuse her on a daily basis, you asked for it." you patted her cheek softly as steph laughed loudly in her face and slung an arm over you.
"and this is why you're my favourite child." steph sighed happily as you shot your girlfriend a grin over the older girls shoulder whose pout had shifted into a grumpy scowl as she grabbed her bags and yours.
"not fair! you've known each other longer." kyra grumbled moodily, steph having played alongside you since your very first pro season in the a-leagues, having taken you under her wing from day one. "i'm also significantly more tolerable than you ky." you teased as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and mocked you under her breath.
"thats the understatement of the century." steph agreed with a hum, yelping as kyra kicked at the back of her legs and sent her stumbling forward nearly taking you down with her. "kyra!" steph growled as your girlfriend beamed and sprinted into the hotel.
"you can do so much better than her, you know that right?" steph sighed taking your face in her hands as you rolled her eyes. "you love us together stephanie don't lie, you meddled about to get us with one another in the first place!" you wagged a finger as she grinned and let you go.
"i do, i really do. she might be a massive pain in the ass but you two are adorable together!" steph cooed and pinched your cheek as the two of you stepped inside the lobby.
"yeah and you've got her on a leash! whipped." you turned around at the new voice as your face lit up. "lani!" you launched at the taller girl, wrapping yourself around her in a hug as the defender squeezed you tightly.
"no longer wanting to punch me now are we baby t?" the blonde teased as she dropped you back to your feet and you pushed her shoulder with a scoff. "one; i hate that nickname. two; it was a dirty tackle and you deserved a yellow!" you warned as the older girl simply grinned and pulled you into her side, the two of you catching up as you wandered toward check in.
"also you might hate it but you're branded with that nickname for life now." alanna warned patting your head as you pushed her away, the nickname in general being a shortened version of 'baby tillie' which you'd earned the day you rocked up for your first senior camp at only fifteen with boots one size too big and your training bib on backwards.
you made your way around saying your hello's, your girlfriend waiting patiently by check in with your bags at her feet already having said her greetings.
"so you finally did it then?" steph looked up and her face broke out into a grin at the sight of hayley, embracing the shorter girl in a very tight hug. "did what?" steph frowned a little as hayley nodded over her shoulder toward kyra who was watching you with a lovesick pining stare.
"oh yes! finally manipulated them both into admitting their feelings for one another." steph smiled victoriously, you and kyra only having been officially together for a few months now after clearly crushing mutually for years.
"i give it a couple more weeks till she gets sick of that." hayley grinned, nodding to kyra who had grown bored of waiting for you, now wrapped around caitlin trying to pull her into a headlock.
"oh that isn't a problem with them. in fact, its a solution! just you wait."
~
sure enough, the others didn't need to wait long to see just what steph meant.
with word of you and kyra spreading rapidly around the team it wasn't long until the teasing started which you just brushed off with a roll of your eyes and a smile.
kyra however took the opposite approach, bragging on and on about how much you were whipped for her and how you were the biggest 'simp' she'd ever met, a charming recount which really no one but kyra actually believed.
after a grueling morning of fitness testing in the hot abu dhabi sun and everyone was cooling down in the ice baths prepared by the coaching staff, protein shakes in hand as time was spent catching up.
"on your left darlin." you looked up with a grin as ellie jumped in beside you, inhaling with a slight hiss at the change in temperature and clenching her top in her teeth, slowly sinking down into the freezing water.
"well well well if isn't little miss le clean sheet!" you teased with a smirk, ellie shoving your head to the side as the media team started their rounds with the mini mic having already cautioned everyone about camp content being needed.
"who would play you in a movie about your life?" you oohed as it was your turn, ellie already answering as you paused to think about your own. "natalie portman?" you laughed, unable to really think of an answer.
"you wish!" ellie scoffed with a grin, a few of the other girls adding onto the teasing as you mocked them and pulled a face. "because you look so much like margot robbie!" you threw back at alanna whose face dropped as your girlfriend hopped into the ice bath with her.
"fuck off kyra!" the blonde groaned, shoving her away as kyra stuck her finger in her ear with a grin. "anyone else want to babysit?" alanna grumbled, huffing and smacking the midfielder who continued to poke and prod at her.
"ky!" your girlfriend paused to look over her shoulder toward you as you raised an eyebrow.
no further words needing to be said the brunette sank down a little deeper into the water, sipping on her shake and stopping pestering alanna who looked on in surprise as you returned to your conversation with ellie and claire.
hayley got to see everything first hand a little later in the day, everyone gathering together for a session in the gym now it was a little cooler and everyone had eaten lunch.
"kyra! you're fucking killing me here." caitlin groaned as the girl clung onto her leg like a child, refusing to let go so she could continue her workout. "kyra please go finish your own reps, burn off some energy or something." steph tried with a roll of her eyes as kyra ignored her and continue to cling on.
a few others tried but kyra just ignored them, caitlin trying desperately to shake her off and even threatening to drop a weight on her head had no effect on the midfielder.
"mini man help me out!" caitlin whined pointing to kyra as katrina held her hands up. "she doesn't listen to me!" the older woman laughed, knowing the younger girls willingness to annoy others much out drove her willingness to listen to them.
"ky, can you spot me please?" you appeared suddenly with a drink bottle in hand, kyra dropping from caitlins leg and immediately jumping up to her feet, following loyally after you like a puppy.
"well, would seem she does listen to someone." hayley scoffed, all of the girls bar steph's faces written with shock, watching as kyra raced off to fill your water up for you after loading up the bench press insisting you not touch a thing until she returned.
"see? told you ras, baby t's got her wrapped right round her little finger." steph smirked somewhat proudly, the girls all shaking their heads and returning to their own workouts, kyra hovering protectively above you watching like a hawk as you did your lifts.
~
if word spread quickly about you and kyra just simply finally being together, it spread even faster about just what an impact and a grip you seemed to have over the rambunctious midfielder and her pestering antics.
"no way! she's that much of a pain." mackenzie scoffed in disbelief at alanna's words about what happened in the gym yesterday and in the ice baths, caitlin adding in several experiences of her own from back in london.
like the time kyra was caught tying katie's shoes together and with one disappointed sigh from you she immediately untied them and raced to katie with an apology.
or the time she wouldn't stop spraying alessia with her water bottle for the entire training until suddenly you were thirsty and she was barreling over toward the taps to fill up about five of them which were ran right over to you.
or the time she stacked up a whole heap of the big black foam training blocks to prove to teyah she could in fact touch the roof.
but with one mention of her name and a raised eyebrow from you, the midfielder was clambering down and putting the blocks back, showering your face with apologetic kisses as you scolded her and warned she could have been seriously hurt had she fallen.
"you are lying! look at her she's a menace." mackenzie rolled her eyes pointing to where kyra was currently rolling around on the rec room floor wrestling with charli as teagan egged them on.
"what are we talking about then?" you hopped over the back of the couch they were sat on, wedging yourself between alanna and mackenzie. "comfortable?" the blonde raised an eyebrow as you tucked yourself into her side and stretched your legs out over mackenzies lap.
"very, thank you lanz." you grinned patting her knee as the older girl rolled her eyes affectionately but moved her arm to drape across you. "how you've got kyra wrapped round your little finger." caitlin chuckled in answer to your previous question.
"oh yeah, absolutely." you nodded with a serious expression as mackenzie scoffed. "there is no way, she's too much of a stubborn pest to listen to anyone." the goalkeeper shook her head as you shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief.
"game of uno?"
"ha! draw four, again." alanna smirked toward mackenzie who was fuming, yanking another four cards up and mumbling angrily under her breath.
"relax mac you're gonna burst a blood vessel in your forehead, at your age that could cause some serious winkle damage." you teased, both you and caitlin down to one card each as poor mackenzie now had at least twelve.
"unless you would like me to hang you upside down by your ankles again, shut it." the older girl warned seriously as you held hands up in defence. "that was so good i've gotta find the video of that again." alanna snickered as you pinched her leg with a glare.
"i didn't even deserve it considering i was framed and both of you knew and didn't say anything!" you huffed at the memory of the goalkeeper indeed hanging you upside down by your ankles when she thought you'd put honey in her gloves.
but really it was of course a much younger sam who didn't even come to your defence as you swore black and blue it wasn't you, mackenzie only letting you down when your face went bright red since the blood had rushed to your head.
"i said i was sorry and i threw sam in the ice bath, don't be a baby about it." mackenzie shrugged finally getting alanna back with a draw four of her own. "you never said sorry!" you argued with a scowl which quickly turned to a victorious smirk as you slapped down your final card with a whoop of success.
"three in a row, unbeatable." you grinned happily, all three girls around you moaning in annoyance and throwing their cards down. "i'm tapping out, leaving as a winner you know?" you flexed with a confident smile.
"goodnight!" you hurried to dart out of the way of alanna's hand which grabbed for your top as you wiggled your fingers at them over your shoulder.
your girlfriend in the meantime was on a winning streak of her own only it wasn't just her opponents whose nerves she was rapidly grating as she sat on a beanbag playing mario kart, yelling and jeering and poking at poor steph who was stuck in dead last.
"nah this is rigged! what have you done to it?" she shot the brunette beside her a fierce glare as kyra let out an over dramatic evil laugh causing a few heads to turn to her with scowls of annoyance at her volume in the shared space.
picking up on the rapidly frosty mood building in the room and not wanting your girlfriend to make too many enemies on her first night, as kyra crossed the finish line in first you decided to step in.
"ha! loser loser looser." kyra leapt up and chanted repeatedly at steph beside her who scowled and threw the remote onto the now vacant beanbag beside her as kyra continued with her obnoxious celebrations.
"anyone else game enough to face the champ?" the midfielder smiled smugly looking around the room but clearly missing the looks of disdain thrown back at her, even charli looking ready to call it a night.
"nobody? everyone too chicken?" kyra made a loud squawking noise and grinned. "just go to bed kyra! you are giving everyone a headache." caitlin groaned from the sofa as your girlfriend started to argue.
"ky." your hand grabbed softly at her bicep, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked to you with a raised eyebrow, the brunette now consumed entirely in giving you whatever you wanted.
"baby, i'm tired. lets head up?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, kyra nodding and immediately tossing the controller onto the beanbag without another word, grabbing your hand and following you right out of the room.
"see? around. her. little. finger!" caitlin smirked at the look of utter shock on mackenzie's face, most of the team looking on in surprise at yet again just how easily kyra would bend over backwards to meet your needs.
"ow! what the hell was that for?" steph huffed as hayley dropped down in the beanbag beside her and handed her one of the abandoned controllers.
"for not getting them together sooner!"
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hyunsvngs · 9 months
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𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader
wc: 6.1k
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)
synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.
a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.
“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted. 
At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.
Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.
“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.
“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.
“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”
You snorted. “Obviously not.” 
“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”
“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed. 
“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.
“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.
“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”
“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.
Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”
“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.
“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!” 
You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”
Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”
"I guess we'd better catch up then." 
It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.
"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."
The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.
"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"
Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.
You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.
Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."
You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."
Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"
"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"
"Chan?"
"No!"
Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."
"It’s not Minho!"
He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"
You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."
Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."
"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."
Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.
"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"
Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.
"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."
"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."
"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"
"Unfortunately," you confirmed.
"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.
"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"
Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"
You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."
"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets. 
Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."
"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.
Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."
“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.
“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.
Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over." 
"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?" 
Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."
"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly. 
"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"
Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."
Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.
"Fine."
Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.
You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!" 
You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.
Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds. 
Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!" 
You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.
"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.
"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.
Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"
Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.
"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.
"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added. 
Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix. 
"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now." 
"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.
This wasn't too far from the truth.
Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room. 
“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”
Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck. 
You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”
Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”
“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.
You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“He’s typing!”
“No!” you wailed.
Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.
lol
"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?
"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh." 
"What?" you asked.
"He's calling me." 
You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"
Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.
"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.
"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.
Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.
"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.
Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously. 
"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.
"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.
"Sure."
"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.
Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?" 
"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.
“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.
“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”
“Not so fast.”
You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.
“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.
“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”
Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.” 
God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.
"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie. 
"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.
"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. 
"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe. 
"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."
"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.
Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear. 
You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.
You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.
[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?
[10:44pm] You: lix please please please
[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is
You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?
[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though
[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room
[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there
You weighed up your options. 
Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.
Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.
Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.
It could only be option three.
His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy. 
You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.
“Ah. Look who it is.” 
Shit.
Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe. 
“All bark and no bite, hm?” 
“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.
He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”
“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.
He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”
You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.
“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”
You felt dizzy. “Improper?”
He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”
“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.
“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.
You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot. 
He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?
His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.
He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.
"Please," you breathed.
"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."
"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.
"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."
Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.
Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky. 
"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey." 
"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.
You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."
"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.
The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"
You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."
"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."
His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though. 
You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze. 
He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.
Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."
Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across. 
Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.
"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you. 
His dick.
You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.
Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."
"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"
"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."
You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said. 
Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.
The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.
"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."
"Please, what? Use your words."
"Please fuck me," you asked.
He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."
You groaned. "I need it, though!"
Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"
"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."
He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?" 
You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.
You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.
"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.
"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.
Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.
"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke. 
You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me." 
"Then beg for it."
You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!" 
"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed. 
"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.
He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off. 
Holy fucking shit, you thought.
His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours. 
"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.
"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything." 
Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."
"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.
He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.
He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.
"Alright, baby, are you ready?"
"Yes!" you cried out.
Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.
"More," you pleaded.
"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.
He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside. 
"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"
He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."
"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!" 
He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby." 
"Just give me your stupid dick right now!" 
Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."
He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.
"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.
"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears. 
"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take." 
"I-I can, just not so deep."
Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway. 
"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."
"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you. 
Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.
He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?" 
"More?" you asked, eyes wide. 
"Just a little more. For me?"
You nodded hesitantly.
Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling. 
"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."
You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch. 
"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you. 
"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"
"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told." 
You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."
Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."
You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.
It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.
"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.
"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are." 
That was all the prompting you needed.
Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.
"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.
"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."
His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.
"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned. 
He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."
Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.
"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.
You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.
"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.
You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."
Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."
You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?" 
"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."
"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."
Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."
"...Yeah." 
"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms. 
You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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stargirlrchive · 24 days
Text
INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!
pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader
notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3
cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)
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Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.
It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.
Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.
You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.
Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.
They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.
Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”
“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.
Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.
Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.
You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.
There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.
Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.
Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyra, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.
The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.
Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”
Feyra sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.
“Of course it is, but you should join us.”
You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.
“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.
Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.
Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.
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During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.
When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.
How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?
Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.
But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.
You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.
Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.
Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.
You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.
Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.
You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.
Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.
You would never forgive yourself.
Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.
Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.
Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”
Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”
He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.
The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.
But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”
Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.
The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”
You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.
Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.
You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.
Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?
You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.
So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.
Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.
In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.
It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.
The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.
You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”
He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.
Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.
“Send me away.”
He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyra’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”
Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”
Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.
You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.
“Cassian-what are you doing here?”
You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”
Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.
“In-in the gardens.”
His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.
Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“How did you know it was me?”
His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”
He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.
Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”
“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”
And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”
Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”
“Lucky her.”
He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.
“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.
“What’s with the full name?”
“It’s yours, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”
A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.
Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.
That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.
You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.
His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”
Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”
You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.
You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”
And this time he didn’t stop you.
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Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.
You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.
You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.
The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”
“You need to focus.”
A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”
“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”
At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”
Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”
You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.
You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.
With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.
Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.
His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”
You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”
Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.
It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.
Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.
“They say they’re sorry.”
Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”
They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.
A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.
The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.
“Are you alright?”
You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”
Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”
He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.
Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.
You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.
No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.
He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.
“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”
Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”
His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.
You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.
Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.
“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.
“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”
Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.
Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.
Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.
In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.
His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.
He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyra. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.
It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.
His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.
Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.
The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.
And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.
Resigned, he returned home.
Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.
Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.
He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.
The mother could be so cruel.
He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.
His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.
He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.
Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.
Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.
“Don’t do this, Cassian.”
His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.
“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.
“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.
“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”
There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.
Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.
“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”
His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.
You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”
Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”
“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”
You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”
You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”
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fanficimagery · 1 month
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The Nanny
When babysitting your neighbor's kid, trouble seems to find you.
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Author's Note: SOA AU - No Tara, Clay, or Gemma. Trigger warning for violence! This was supposed to be up for Valentine's Day, but as you can see... that wasn't the case lmao.
Charming, California is one of those picture perfect little towns where everyone tries to be prim and proper, and act like their shit doesn't stink. And in the short time that you've lived here, you quickly realized that the law-abiding citizens hated the fact that Charming was home to a MC, the Sons of Anarchy.
It doesn't bother you to see them riding down the streets as you're out and about, but you do find it hilarious that a majority of the locals either gasp in outrage upon seeing the bikers or avoid them at all costs. You find the bikers very easy-going, but then again the club president is your neighbor.
Jax Teller had taken it upon himself to introduce himself when you were moving in, carrying boxes for you and flashing a rather charming smile as he pumped you for information about yourself. You knew what he was doing, and it was rather laughable, but you had nothing to hide and were a rather boring person, so you gave the information freely. Between the two of you, he was more interesting as a MC president whereas you stayed home and lived off the money your brothers made. Jax seemed interested in what your brothers did for a living that they were able to provide you with the life you have, but you explained they made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile. You helped them with scheduling, but they still did a majority of the work.
Finding out Jax has a son (Abel) makes your heart warm towards the biker, and then warm up to the club when his brothers visit every now and then. Juice was really just a goofball when he wasn't doing business for the club, Chibs was a secret sweetheart, Tig was a little crazy, Happy was hard to read, but it was Opie who was the most normal of the bunch.
You settle into your home quite nicely, working from your little office when your brothers need help to prevent any scheduling conflicts. Then in your downtime, you either have a book in hand or waste time on your gaming system. Jax and his brothers have been over a couple of times, drinking a beer to wind down or eating whatever leftovers you happen to have after you've already eaten.
This morning, however, you've just finished making breakfast when there's a knock at your front door. With a strip of bacon in hand, you answer the door and are surprised to see Jax and his son Abel standing there.
"What's up, Teller?"
He immediately smiles and your eyes narrow. "I hate to do this on such short notice, but my nanny canceled. Do you think you could watch Abel for the day?"
You glance down at the blonde boy, shrugging. "Is he cool staying with me?"
Jax glances down and nudges his son, but Abel merely asks, "Do you have more bacon?"
You open the door wider as you chuckle. "Sure, kid. You want some eggs and hashbrowns too?"
"Yum."
Abel walks into your house without a care in the world and you meet Jax's amused gaze. "So are there any rules I should abide by? Are you one of those dad's that limits screen time or bans sugar?"
"Nope and nope. No allergies either."
"Cool."
"Thank you. I owe you."
As Jax starts to walk down your porch steps, you say, "I'm a slut for food, Teller. Bribe me with food and I'll say yes to anything."
"Anything?" He peers over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. You scowl at him.
"Almost anything."
Jax laughs. "Don't cook tonight then. I'll bring some cheeseburgers and fries from this diner that makes pretty good food."
"Alright."
. .
. .
When Jax returns later that night, Chibs and Happy follow after learning he was picking up food from the diner. What surprised them, however, was that while Jax parked in his driveway, he started taking the food to his neighbors house. But Chibs, nor Happy, said a word and followed their president with their own food when he didn't protest.
Jax is poised to knock on the door when he hears, "Don't you- don't you dare do it, kid. If you do it, I will personally wait until you turn seventeen to kick your little ass." The words give Jax pause because what the actual fuck! But then Abel's giggling makes him grin.
"Did she just threaten to kick Abel's ass, Jackie?" Chibs wonders, smirking.
"I think so."
"No, no, no! You blue-shelled me?! You're like two. How do you even know how to play this?!" Jax snorts and finally knocks. The trash talking suddenly ceases before… "It's open! If you're friendly, welcome! If not, I got a little ankle biter in here and I'm not afraid to sic him on you!"
Jax laughs some more and enters the house, walking to where he hears all the commotion. Walking into the living room, he can't help but smile at the sight of YN and Abel sitting side by side on the couch, attention focused on the TV where they're apparently playing Mario Kart.
"You bring the goods, Teller?"
"Burgers and fries as promised."
"You are currently my favorite Teller." Still your attention is on the TV, your trash talking his kid being kept very polite all of a sudden. Jax, Chibs, and Happy have no idea what's going on, but suddenly one of the characters is spinning out because of a banana peel and then Abel's giving a long, suffering sigh as the other character passes the finish line. "Yes!" You jump up, pointing down at Abel. "Sucks to suck, kid. Now come on. Your pop's got the goods."
When you finally look up at Jax, you momentarily freeze when you see Chibs and Happy there as well. "Oh. Hey, guys. Kitchen's this way."
Everyone follows you into the kitchen and you immediately grab drinks from the fridge. When you turn around, Jax is divvying up some food for himself, Abel, and you. You pass out the beers to the men and you have cans of Sprite for yourself and Abel. Then as you take the last remaining available seat since Jax kept Abel on his lap, you thank Jax for the food before digging in.
"So did you have fun today?" Jax asks his son.
"Yeah. I got to color and watch TV and play games."
Jax glances at you and you shrug. "I made do. I would have gone to the store to pick up some stuff for him, but I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me taking him anywhere."
"I appreciate that."
"So what about you? Is your nanny good or will you need another favor?"
"Uh, she actually might be out for a few more days."
You nod. "I can do it. Is it cool if I take him to the store with me tomorrow morning? I forgot how much little kids snack throughout the day."
"Yeah. I have an extra car seat you can use and I'll leave you some cash."
"Nah. Don't even worry about it. I'll be snacking with him, so I can front the bill."
But still, cash ends up thrown onto the table from both Chibs and Jax. You have a feeling it'd be useless to argue, so you say nothing.
After dinner, Jax helps you clean up before they all take their leave. He tells Abel to tell you goodbye and your heart absolutely melts when you crouch down, and Abel hugs you.
You visibly melt as you hug the little boy back and then pull back to tweak his nose. "Okay, you're officially my favorite Teller again."
Abel smiles at you as Jax laughs and then you bid everyone goodbye at the door.
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Abel ends up preferring your company to that of his nanny, so Jax ends up splitting his son's time between the nanny at his house and you at your own house when you have nothing going on.
On this particular day, after a lunch of sandwich and chips, you and Abel are lounging in a kiddie pool right in the middle of your front yard. You even went as far to put up a canopy to have the pool half in the shade and half in the sun, and are soaking in a sports bra and a pair of black tights that look like shorts.
You're sitting in the shade, sipping on a juice box as Abel stands on the other side playing with water blasters. You hear the rumble of a motorcycle, unsurprised to have Jax checking in.
As the blonde walks up, you smile innocently as he laughs. "Where did the pool come from?"
"The store." You shrug. Abel takes the moment to load up his blaster with lukewarm water and shoots his dad with it. Jax doesn't bother dodging the stream. "We saw a commercial for the waterpark and since we can't go there, I brought the water to us."
Wiping water from his face and using it to slick his hair back, Jax crouches next to the pool and asks, "How much do I owe you?"
"Not a cent, Teller." You sip on your juice, grinning. "I haven't been in one of these since I was a kid. This is for me as much as it's for Abel. He just gave me the excuse of getting one and chilling in it without looking like an idiot."
"Well I don't know about that…"
He trails off and you gasp in mock outrage. As he laughs, you say, "You're lucky I respect the kutte and the fact that you have a phone in your pocket somewhere. If I didn't, I'd drag your butt in here with us."
"Next time." Jax splashes his son and then stands before Abel can shoot him point blank with water. "Am I grabbing dinner tonight?"
"Nah. Abel already made a request. He wants chicken tenders and fries."
"And what the little man wants, he gets?"
"Obviously." You roll your eyes playfully. "Plus, it's an easy meal and I enjoy it too."
"Alright." He chuckles as he starts making his way back towards his motorcycle. "Don't stay in the pool too long."
"Yes, sir." You mockingly salute him, lips twitching when you see him momentarily tense before relaxing once more. "See you later."
. .
. .
It's past Abel's bedtime by the time Jax makes it home, and already he's prepared for his kid to either be bouncing off the walls or very cranky. But as he nears YN's house, he notices that it's mostly dark. All the lights are off with the exception of the porch light and a couple of lamps he can see through the windows that peer into the living room. And the TV, of course.
Instead of knocking, he lets himself right in. It's almost too quiet, but he can hear the TV playing rather low in the living room. Heading there, he walks up to the sofa and can't help but smile at the sight that greets him. YN is laid out across the sofa with Abel on her chest, his back to her front. Both are knocked out cold.
Without second guessing himself, Jax pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo. Chuckling to himself, he then walks around the sofa as he pockets his phone and crouches down. "Hey. YN," he gently calls out while shaking her shoulder.
It takes a few shakes before you wake, sleepily humming until Jax's voice coaxes you until you're fully awake. Your arms wrap around Abel on instinct and when you notice Jax's smirking presence, you relax. "What time is it?" You mumble.
"A little after ten."
"Really? Fuck. I guess the sun really did kick my ass if I'm this sleepy."
"Yeah." Jax chuckles and then carefully starts to gather Abel in his arms. "Sorry about showing up so late."
"Don't even worry about it." You sit up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "You know I adore your kid." As you follow Jax to the door, you remind him about going away for a week and not being able to watch Abel, but that you'll have your phone on if Abel wants to talk.
Jax laughs. "I swear, my kid loves you more than me sometimes."
"It's only because I'm a better cook," you muse.
Jax opens his mouth to argue, but ends up shutting it and shrugging. "You're not wrong there."
As Jax then exits your home, you bid him goodnight and watch until he disappears into his home.
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When you explained to Jax that your brothers made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile, you weren't lying. Nor did you lie when you also explained you helped them with scheduling for said high profile individuals.
What you chose to leave out, however, was that your family had such a great record with security because no one wanted to fuck with a family who had connections to two different cartels through your dearly departed parents.
However, before you settled into the calm life of personal security, your brothers made a name for yourselves as ruthless hitmen amongst the cartels and you… you were a little unhinged when you were caught up in the moment as one of their torturers. You worked for the cartels when they needed you to, but when you and your brothers wanted to distance yourselves, it was the cartels who helped set up your security business.
The week spent with your brothers is just to visit and catch up with those who all three of you came to see as uncles. It was most definitely not supposed to end up with you being caught off guard by a fist to the face. Someone who didn't know all what you were capable of took advantage of the fact that you were a woman who was close to big names within the cartels. They thought you to be easily taken down and used as leverage, but what they didn't count on was you hiding daggers on your persons. The fight was dirty and bloody, and by the end of it you were spitting mad.
You have the urge to carve into someone that your brothers are trying to quell for once when your phone rings. You pull out your phone mid-pacing, and then freeze upon seeing Jax's name on the screen. But it's not a normal call- it's a video call.
"Fuck."
"What?" Your elder brother asks. "Who is it?"
"It's my neighbor. Most likely his kid Abel since I babysit him most of the time." Your brothers glance at each other and you roll your eyes. "I've told you about them. Now toss me my hoodie. I can't let them see my face like this."
Before the call ends, you answer it but make sure to angle the camera away from the bruised side of your face. "Hey, Jax, give me one sec," you say. Your brother tosses you a hoodie and you quickly pull it on after setting your phone down. Then you take a seat at the kitchen table, turning off a few lights so it's a little darker and you can hide within your hood. Picking up your phone and keeping only half your face on camera, you smile. "Hey, guys, miss me?"
Jax's smile falters, but Abel immediately starts talking, telling you all about his day with his dad. He tells you he misses your food and play time, and you assure him you'll be home soon. You tell him about hanging out with your own family and even make your brothers wave at the camera when you switch it on them. Abel's little voice telling them hi makes you smile and then Jax is telling Abel to go watch some TV before bed.
Left alone with Jax on the phone, his smile vanishes. "What happened?"
"What do you mean?" You refuse to meet either of your brothers' gazes as you can feel them staring at you. "Everything's fine."
"Bullshit." Your brothers snort and you huff. Very reluctantly, you pull your hood down and maneuver the camera so it catches your full face. Jax's expression hardens. "Fuck."
"Don't worry. It looks worse than it is."
"What the fuck happened?"
You shrug and quickly glance at your brothers, but they're back to doing their own thing. "Went out drinking with the family and got caught in a brawl. It's been handled."
"So I don't have to gather the boys and kick some ass?"
His words make you huff a laugh. "Nah. I'm pretty sure I put the guy in a hospital."
"You took down a dude?! Now that's hot. I wish I could have seen that."
Uncaring that they're eavesdropping, your brothers burst out laughing and you sigh. You can't help but smile and you end up rolling your eyes when Jax laughs too. "Whatever. How's Abel really doing? Is he driving his official nanny insane yet?"
"Not really. He's just moping around."
"Aww." You coo. "Well I should be home soon. I'll take him to the park or something."
Jax's teasing smile turns genuine. "You know, I've never told you this, but I appreciate everything you do for Abel. You don't have to do anything, but you still treat him like family."
"What can I say? I like kids." You shrug. "And my idiot brothers will never give me any nieces or nephews."
"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.
You grin at them before looking back at Jax on your phone. "I should get going though. We have a meeting with the uncles here in a bit and I need to get ready."
"Alright. No more fights unless I'm there to avenge you. I can't have my favorite girl looking like she's in an abusive relationship."
Snorting, you say, "No promises. Tell Abel goodnight for me and to come up with a plan for what he wants to do when I get back home."
"Will do. See you soon."
As soon as you hang up, your brothers start making teasing kissing noises. "Oh shut the fuck up."
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Valentine's Day has never been a day that you really cared for. Sure it was sweet to see teenagers and kids swap gifts and/or cards, or to buy candy half off, but it didn't bother you to have a significant other on this day. But you do remember how good it felt to get a gift as a kid, so you want to make sure Abel has a good day.
With your time spent with Abel, you've come to know that he loves certain fruits and chocolate. So after heading to the store for a quick shopping trip, you return home with strawberries, bananas, and melting chocolate. Then after cleaning the strawberries and chopping up some bananas, you dip them all in the ooey-gooey chocolate before letting them harden while fixing up a white dessert box with edges that say Happy Valentine's Day.
You've just filled the box with chocolate covered fruit when your phone rings and you can't help but smile at the name. You're no stranger to how handsome Jax is, but you know better than to go there with him.
"Hey, Teller, to what do I owe the pleasure of your hot voice?" You immediately answer.
Jax's laughter meets your ear before, "While it's nice to hear you like my voice, I'm actually calling on behalf of Abel."
"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"
"You know I'm your favorite Teller, YN." You hum, not denying his words. "But Abel is requesting your appearance here at the shop because he has a very important question to ask you."
"A very important question?" You muse. "What does Abel have to…" You trail off, the amusement in Jax's voice suddenly making something make sense. "His question doesn't happen to coincide with what today is, does it?"
Jax chuckles. "I am not ruining the surprise."
"I swear to God, Jax, if I end up crying I'm going to kick your ass."
"I look forward to it. Now get pretty and get your ass over here. Do not break my kid's heart."
"Never. And I'm always pretty, Teller."
"...yeah. You are." Your eyes widen at his words, but you don't say anything. Jax then clears his throat. "I'll see you soon."
"Y-Yeah. I'll be there in ten."
You can feel yourself blushing as you hang up, but quickly put it out of your mind as you hurry to your room to get dressed. You pull on a black sundress that's covered in sunflowers, the flowy skirt hitting right above your knees. You step into some black wedge sandals and quickly tie your hair up in a messy ponytail. You apply the basic amount of makeup and spritz some perfume around your body.
Heading downstairs, you throw all your necessities into a purse and then grab Abel's box of chocolate covered fruit before heading out.
The drive to Teller Automotive isn't a very long one, and you're soon parking in the lot. You leave your purse in the car, but you keep your box of fruits in hand. You get several wolf whistles as you cross the parking lot, but you merely laugh off Tig and Chibs' teasing.
Before you can enter the auto garage, Jax walks out, a smirk in place. And then before you can ask him what he's smirking for, your gaze is drawn downward to Abel who walks out behind him… and oh. You fuckin' melt.
Abel's hair is slicked into a faux hawk, a red bow tie is clipped to the very crisp white button shirt that's tucked into a pair of tiny faded jeans. In his hands he's holding a teddy bear that's adorned with a miniature Sons of Anarchy kutte, and a red carnation. The adorableness of it all makes you melt and tear up at how cute he is.
"Oh my goodness. You look so handsome," you tell him.
As you crouch so you're more at his level, you make sure the skirt of your dress still covers everything. Abel blushes as he asks, "Will you be my Valentine?"
"Hell yes I will." Abel smiles as he hands over your gifts, and Jax and the others- who were apparently listening in- whoop in celebration. "And as my Valentine, it's only fair that I give a gift as well. Strawberries and bananas covered in chocolate. Your favorite," you tell him.
Abel is so ecstatic over his gift that he nearly knocks you over as he hugs you. When Chibs ask him what he's got, he's more than happy to run off and show his uncles what you've given him. Jax offers you a hand up and as soon as you're steady on your feet, you notice him looking at you in a certain way.
"What?" You huff a laugh, carefully wiping away your tears that never fully fell.
"You are amazing, you know that?"
"Hardly. Tiny Teller is just adorable as hell." You can feel yourself starting to blush so you glance down at the teddy in your hand. "Where did you find a tiny kutte anyway?"
"It's actually Abel's. The guys had it made for him when he was born and he wanted your teddy to have it."
"I'll take extra care of it then." When you glance back at Jax, you ask, "So does Abel have to stay or can I take my valentine out on a date?" You have no idea what Jax had been thinking, but it's like your words make him snap. From one second to next, he goes from staring at you in awe to gently grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. You gasp but quickly return the sentiment. And when Jax pulls back, still cupping your face in his hands, you ask, "So me wanting to take your kid out on a date really did it for you, huh?"
Jax barks out a laugh and you smile as he leans in for another quick kiss. "Been wanting to do that for a while actually."
"And you waited until this moment to do it," you muse. "Jokes on you though. You gotta stick around and listen to your boys tease you about this while I take Abel out all on my lonesome." You kiss him for a third time and then step out of his reach to holler, "Little Teller, let's go! It's you and me, buddy. Whatever you wanna do."
As Abel approaches with a lot less fruit, he asks, "Can we eat pizza in the park?"
"We sure can. Now say goodbye to your dad so we can go stuff our faces."
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Dating Jax Teller is rather thrilling. You do not care to know what goes on in the club unless it pertains to any woman trying to sleep with him, or when Jax needs someone to vent to. Then, and only then, do you let your opinion be known about what goes on with the MC.
But while you have nothing against the MC, you still prefer to spend a majority of your time with Abel. Sure you'll show up to some parties so all the other women know Jax is off limits, but you're content to do activities with little Teller wherever he wants to be for the day.
You thought it was cute Jax tried to shield you from the violence the club was capable of, but never pressed him for information when you noticed he looked stressed about something. This time, however, you wish you had pressed him for information when he asked you to stay in with Abel.
It's nighttime, and you and Abel are relaxing in front of your TV as you watch some new Pixar film about dragons and their riders. The two of you are dozing off when your front door is kicked in, which then makes you jump into action. But you're not just defending yourself, you have a little boy to think about. So before you can find a proper weapon, you're left standing in front of Abel who is now clinging to your leg as he whimpers in fear.
"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."
"Fuck off."
The men all chuckle in front of you. "Take her."
. .
. .
The Sons of Anarchy roll up to a subdivision that's still in development, cautiously dismounting their motorcycles and arming themselves. A new MC had established themselves in a neighboring town, looking to make a name for themselves, and they thought knocking down the Sons a peg or ten was what they ought to do to establish their foothold in the MC world for good.
The encroaching MC took to ambushing the Sons whenever and wherever, and the people of Charming were starting to become afraid of strolling their pristine streets. Even the Sheriff was looking to the Sons to end the conflict, but they could only do so much. Unfortunately, one of the fights involved a chase on motorcycles as the Sons were making a run, and the son of the enemy President took a bullet to the right side of his chest and fell. His injuries then resulted in a coma which set off to this little meeting.
As they creep through the eerily quiet streets of the deserted subdivision, Opie flanks Jax. "I don't like this, brother. Something feels off."
"I agree," Chibs says. "We should have put the club on lockdown before ridin' out."
Jax sighs. "Too late now."
Juice, Happy, and Tig jog up to homes still under construction, trying the doors or looking for any signs that someone's been there. It isn't until they get to the end of the block that they notice one home has been vandalized and they know that's where they're supposed to go.
Every Son cautiously enters the house, nose wrinkling as the state of the house. But in the middle of the living room, there's an odd clearing around a small round table. And on that table sits a folded notecard.
The Sons seem to freeze, but then Jax is marching towards the note. Snatching it up, the words written make him tense as his world starts to tilt. "Fuck. They're going after Abel."
As the note flutters to the floor, the Sons all race after their President as he flees the house.
The note read, [A son for a son.]
On the way to YN's, Jax instructs half the Sons to break off and check on the club, while also making calls to get everyone on an official lockdown. Jax, Opie, Chibs, and Happy race to his neighbor's house.
When they pull up, a few neighbors are peering out their doors looking a bit distraught. Immediately, they know something terrible has happened, and that feeling is only intensified when they spot the broken down door.
Rushing to park in YN's front yard, guns are pulled from the back waistband of their jeans. Jax takes point as he enters the house and his heart drops to his stomach. The house is an absolute mess, furniture and glass broken.
The TV is still playing some cartoon movie and when he walks further in, he curses at the sight of a body laying in a pool of blood.
Happy peers over his shoulder. "Now we know she can hold her own."
"Find them. Now."
. .
. .
Sitting in the bathtub, Abel clings to you as his face hides against the side of your neck. Your face hurts from the numerous punches you took, your lip is split, your arms have multiple lacerations, and there's blood dripping into your eyes. But your worst wound is definitely the bullet wound to the left of your abdomen, and you're grateful that Abel's weight is putting pressure on the towel you had pressed against the wound.
It's been quiet for what seems like forever, but suddenly you hear movement. Shakily raising the gun you'd taken from one of the intruders, you take aim and dare the next motherfucker who enters to be someone intending harm on you or the boy in your lap.
The door gently swings open, but no one is there. Your arm hurts from holding the gun up and then you see someone try to peer around the door jamb. You can only partially see his face, but the voice- you recognize the voice even if you rarely hear it when you're at the club.
"Baby girl?"
"...Hap?"
The stoic man steps fully in the doorway, putting his gun away as you drop yours in the tub. Abel shifts as he whimpers and you wince. "Jax! Upstairs bathroom!"
Abel realizes his uncle's voice and dad's name, so he moves to turn. Happy is quick to lift him, his eyes widening at the blood soaking his clothes. "S'fine. My blood," you tiredly tell him. "I didn't… I didn't let them touch him."
"You did real good." Happy's assurance makes you smile, but you're just so tired. As your eyes slide shut, you hear, "Hey! Don't do that. Stay awake, YN."
"Tryin'…" Pounding footsteps race up the stairs and it isn't long until Jax, Chibs, and Opie are pushing their way into the bathroom as well. Jax takes Abel right away, eyes scanning the room before they land on you. Happy and Opie move to help you out of the tub, but Chibs is quick to point out your bleeding wound. The last words you say are, "Call my brothers," before darkness consumes you."
. .
. .
Jax is pacing the hospital waiting room, blood covering his shirt and hands from where he carried Abel. Chibs had taken Abel back to the club to clean him up and fill in the others about what was going on, but now he's back and filling in the Sheriff about what they had walked in on at YN's house. Thankfully Jax and YN's neighbors liked them, and were honest about hearing gunshots before the Sons had frantically rolled up.
Opie and Happy are the only two sitting patiently, but their attention is drawn to a large group of men entering the room. Two men in particular glance around before making a beeline for Jax, but the others hang back by the door. It's evident these men mean business as they stand guard, their suits standing out among the scrubs, kuttes, and regular clothing of the others sitting in the waiting room.
When Jax notices the newcomers, his shoulders sag at the sight of YN's brothers. But his interest is piqued with the suited thugs behind the brothers, tattoos visible along their hands and neck.
The brothers quickly introduce themselves as Noah and Theo, both of their expressions grim.
"What happened?" Noah asks. He's the elder of the two, his muscled torso covered in a button down with their sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"They were after my kid," Jax immediately tells them, voice low. "She took a bullet for him and she's in surgery right now."
Both brothers' jaws clench.
"Do you know who they are?" Theo asks, tapping away on his phone.
"Yeah. It's another MC. They attacked us on a run and the son of the President took a fall off his bike. He's in a coma, so the President went after my kid in return."
"And your kid was in the care of our sister," Noah realizes.
"Yes."
Noah sighs, running a hand down his face. Then after a few more taps and texts, Theo grins. "Found them."
Jax frowns. "Found who?"
"The people responsible for putting our sister in the hospital."
Jax then tenses. "This is club business, man. We'll handle it."
Both Noah and Theo tense, but end up chuckling. Jax's jaw clenches, but he keeps his anger in check.
Noah says, "If you think it'll remain club business when YN wakes up, then that means my sister hasn't confessed the family secret."
Jax freezes. "What secret?"
"We had to get our start somewhere when our parents died," Theo tells him. "And it just so happened that each of our parents came from very powerful, very wealthy families. We worked our way to the top of the food chain and became rather notorious until we wanted out and settled into the business we currently have."
Noah starts to smirk. "Your club business just became cartel business, my friend. And our uncles are livid that their little girl was attacked."
Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.
"We'll find them and keep them occupied," Theo says. "When YN is released, she'll be out for blood."
"And she'll get it," Noah muses. "After all, she is quite the little torturer."
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When you wake up, you're unsurprised to find Jax by your bedside. You are surprised, however, to learn that he knows about your past thanks to your brothers promising bloodshed. You groan, but then remember Abel. And after assurances that Abel is fine, you relax.
You're anxious to know where you stand with Jax as he explains why you ended up in the hospital. He feels guilty for not telling you what was really going on or putting you on lockdown, along with the club, but you don't blame him for what happened. Dating the President of an MC, you were bound to be pulled into the violence sooner or later, and with your past you knew you could handle it.
When he runs out of steam, it's your turn to start apologizing for not telling him about your life with the cartels. You make sure he knows that you would have never endangered Abel, and if your past had come calling, you would have made sure that they were protected at all costs. Jax assures you he's not mad, but he did wish you would have told him given you knew about the roles some of his brothers played in the club.
But what's done is done, and Jax is more interested in what you plan on doing since your brothers have gone quiet after calling him to inform him that they've got a majority of the MC tucked away in a building that no one can hear the impending mayhem.
"They broke into my home and put a bullet in me just to get to Abel and send a message to you," you say, expression turning thunderous. "The one who shot me doesn't get to walk away. Hell, the ones who fuckin' raised a gun in Abel's direction are lucky that they'll be limping away after I'm done."
"Limping away?"
You slowly smirk at him, lowering your voice. "I'm not gonna draw out my punishment, but my brothers and my uncles' men sure as shit ain't gonna sit back. They're gonna make sure they get the message that they fucked with the wrong people."
Jax huffs a laugh and then ends up staying for as long as the nurses would let him, only leaving when YN's brothers came or he had to go pick up Abel so he'd see that YN was fine for himself.
Then after two and a half days, you're released.
You're still sore, but you've got nothing but vengeance on your mind. When your brothers send you the address of where they're holding several individuals for you to interrogate, you get dressed and head for Teller Automotive.
Some of the guys are surprised to see you up and about, but you wave off their concern as you continue towards the club portion of the shop.
The usual sweetbutts are milling about, cleaning up and most likely getting ready for a party since it is a Friday. You spot Jax and Juice at the bar as Juice taps away on a laptop.
"Boys," you greet as you walk up behind them. "Whatcha workin' on?"
Jax turns in his seat, eyes subtly widening as he stands. "You're out! Why didn't you call me?" He's quick to carefully take you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
"Because if I'd have called you, you'd have taken me home and coddled me."
"Well yeah. You were shot."
"I got shit to take care of, Teller, and I'm not wasting another day."
"Then what are you doing here?"
You shrug. "I just thought that you'd want to see the MC face their consequences."
"Now? You're going to do that now?" He asks, his gaze darting down to your covered abdomen.
"Yep. "My brothers procured a place just on the outskirts of Charming where we won't be interrupted. You in?"
"Well, yeah. Obviously."
"Good. Then gather whoever's in and follow me."
As you sit in your car, you watch Jax as speaks with several of brothers to see who he's going to leave in charge. And after everything is settled, only five follow Jax to their motorcycles- Opie, Happy, Juice, Tig, and Chibs.
You start your car and start to drive, pausing by the gate until Jax and the others start to roll out. You take off, keeping your speed down as you drive through the town. But the moment you get to the road leading out of Charming, you step on the gas and race towards the location your brothers sent to you.
You drive along an empty stretch of road until you turn down a dirt road which is surrounded by empty crop fields that have seen better days. The road leads up to a dilapidated farmhouse, a very rusted horse corral, and behind all that is a barn where several vehicles have parked.
You park and get out, waiting for Jax to find the perfect spot to park their motorcycles. Once they do, you wait until they gather around.
"I know this started off as club business, but now it's cartel business. I can't have you questioning me in there."
"This is your playground," Jax says. "We're just here for a show."
You nod and then turn towards the barn doors, pushing them open with the help of Chibs and Tig when they get stuck. Inside, several men are hanging about on turned over crates or bales of hay, some even sitting at a small wooden table playing cards. Music plays softly in the background, but it's cut off the moment your presence is noticed.
Immediately, every man and woman scramble to their feet as you approach.
In the middle of the barn, there's a line of eight men with burlap sacks over their heads sitting in chairs with their wrists tied down to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. Walking down the line of men, you snatch the sacks from their heads.
"Wakey, wakey, motherfuckers." Each man is clearly exhausted, agitated, and pissed off.
You save the MC President for last, smirking as he sneers at you. "Stupid bitch." He seethes. "Let us go. Right now."
"Bitch," you muse. "If you're going to insult me, at least call me a cunt. Or whore. Those words have much more of an impact."
"Cunt."
Your fist whips out, striking him across the face so hard that his head jerks to the side. He turns to glare back up at you, spitting blood that lands on your pant leg. "Now, now. If you're going to insult me again, at least be creative about it. Your lack of creativity is sorely disappointing." He roars at you, trying to free his wrists and feet, but you merely laugh and continue to pace in front of his men. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and it's quite simple, really." You stop pacing, expression hardening. "You fucked with the wrong woman."
Then like a switch has been flipped, you go back to smiling and pacing, gesturing wildly as you talk. "Normally I wouldn't touch MC business with a ten foot pole, but you fuckers messed up. You broke into my home and went after a child under my care- a child that I hold very near and dear to my heart. So, now your piss poor attempt at taking over territory that doesn't belong to you has now come under cartel jurisdiction, and I will make sure that any stupid motherfuckers who dares to come after the Sons of Anarchy will pay a price."
"Fuck that. We didn't cross any cartel!"
"Oh honey," you mockingly coo as you come to a stop in front of the one who spoke. "I am part of the cartel." Turning around, you walk towards a long table and lift the cloth laying atop of it. Beneath the cloth, there's a variety of weapons. You tuck a glock into the back waistband of your jeans and then grasp a dagger in your dominant hand. Then turning to walk back towards the bound men, you smirk. "Now what I want are the assholes who attacked me and dared to point a gun at a child. You give me those men and the rest of you can walk out of here."
Silence.
Dead fuckin' silence.
"Nothing?" You chuckle. "Come on, guys. Give 'em up. I swear it's not worth protecting them. I mean, I can probably figure it out. Eyes are windows to the soul and all that rot. You might have been wearing masks, but I still remember those cowardly glints very well."
"Fuck you! I ain't no coward."
"Bingo!" You shout, pointing the tip of your blade at the culprit. Walking up to the guy, you can't help but laugh as he realizes his mistake and clamps his mouth shut. "One down, one more to go."
"I ain't telling you shit."
"No?" Switching the dagger to your other hand, you pull the glock free from behind your back. You step close to the man, taking aim at his crotch. "Are you sure about that?"
He cruelly smirks. "You're all talk and no-"
BANG!
The guy immediately starts screaming, his buddies struggling in their chairs, and you laugh. When you glance around the room, you see those you consider family chuckling and the Sons cringing in sympathy as they cover their crotches. You walk around so you're standing behind the screaming fool, swapping the dagger and gun in your hands so the dagger is back in your dominant hand. "Going once… going twice…" He continues to scream, and you sigh when no one else speaks up.
And then before anyone can comprehend what you've done, you've dragged the blade across the guy's neck.
As he gurgles on his blood and his friends shout obscenities at you, you walk around so you're standing before them once again.
"That's three of my men you've killed already," the President says. "I think fair's fair."
"I want the last one," you say. "One last guy and you're good to go."
No one says anything, but the President's expression hardens. There's a cold glint in his eye that you're very familiar with, and you know that should he walk out of these barn doors, he'll do anything and everything for revenge. "Samuel. I sent Samuel."
The Samuel in question squawks and you smile beautifully at him over the shoulder before staring at the President once more. "Harsh. Selling out your own guy like that." You saunter up to him, sighing. "But he's the thing; I hate snitches."
Then before the President can blink, you take aim and pull the trigger. The bullet hits him right between the eyebrows.
The struggling, bound men all seem to cease movement and you turn towards them. "Now that that's out of the way…" You walk back towards Samuel, scoffing at his whimpering. "You might get to live today, Sammy, but not without something to remember why messing with the Sons a big no-no."
"And w-what's that?"
You slowly smile. "Open your fist, Samuel. Lay your hand flat against the armrest."
His eyes widen as he whimpers, but he hesitantly does as you've said. Then when his hand is nice and flat, you drive your blade through the back of his hand, pinning it to the arm rest.
As he screams, you sneer at him and then start to make your way towards the Sons. On your way, you hand off your gun before coming to a stop in front of Jax and pasting on a smile as you glance at each Sons. "Who's hungry?"
"Marry me," Happy grumbles.
You laugh at him, winking, and then glance back at Jax. "You're a little psycho," he says.
"Only when the occasion calls for it. But seriously, can we go get food?"
Jax laughs as he sidles up to your side, sliding an arm along the back of your shoulders. "Do burgers sound good?"
"Burgers sound marvelous. I also want a vanilla milkshake."
"Good. We'll go grab some and surprise Abel. He's been itching to go to your house again."
"Ugh. Your kid is so adorable. But maybe let me settle in before you grab him. My abdomen is on fire and if we tell him I'm sick, maybe he won't be so hyperactive."
"Let me see."
Begrudgingly, you lift the hem of your shirt and glance down. Sure enough, you've bled through your bandages. "New plan; No Abel."
"What? But-"
"Nope." Jax squeezes you to his side as you sigh. "You're gonna go home, Chibs will follow to patch you up, and I'll go pick up some food. Abel can go one more day without seeing you."
"Boo."
The Sons chuckle.
"What about us?" Juice asks, gesturing between himself, Tig, and Happy.
"I don't care, Juice. Do whatever you want."
As they head towards their motorcycles, Jax walks you to your car.
"So, are you really okay with this?" You ask. "Okay with me and all that I'm capable of?"
"Yeah." Jax nods. "More than okay, actually. It's good to know that should shit find its way to your doorstep again, you'll handle it."
"Damn right I will." You swing around so you're standing in front of Jax, arms wrapping around his waist as his go around your shoulders. "I will protect Abel with my life again and again. Never doubt that."
"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.
"You're a close second," you muse. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you peck his lips. "Now seriously. Food, Teller. I need food."
"Yeah, yeah." He kisses you again. "Go home and get settled. I'll be there soon."
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solarmorrigan · 8 months
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TW: Discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, child neglect. Nothing happens in the fic (all hurt/comfort, I promise), but it's very frankly talked about, so please proceed with care <3
-
It takes three weeks.
(In reality, it takes longer than that. It takes until after Steve realizes he’s spending more time at Eddie and Wayne’s new place than he is at his own house. It takes until after Eddie has asked Steve to just move in with them already. It takes until after Steve has packed his things up, and carefully cleaned up the house, and set the thermostat, and informed the pool cleaners, and paid a neighbor to check the mail every few days, and – he hadn’t felt right, just leaving, even though Eddie had repeatedly told him he didn’t owe anyone anything. But it had taken until after all of that, and then–)
Steve had left them a note, a new number where he could be reached, and it had taken three weeks before they came looking. Before they even noticed.
It isn’t a fight, in the end.
His parents are angry that he’d just up and left the house, but they’re much less so when he explains everything he’d set in place before he’d gone.
They want to know if he’ll be asking them for anything else after this (not if he’s safe, not if he’s happy, just if he’s going to keep being a burden).
He tells them no.
And that’s– that’s it.
That’s it.
His mom tells him they’ll call him around Christmas, let him know if they’ll be in town, and then his parents just let him go.
They get up and they leave his living room and they leave his home and they leave Steve’s life and they leave and they don’t look back and they– well, they’d left a long time ago, hadn’t they? A long, long time ago.
Steve is sitting at the end of Eddie’s bed (his and Eddie’s bed, now, their bed; Steve’s still getting used to that, but in a good way), feeling the sort of empty he hasn’t felt since he was seventeen. He’s just sort of staring at the carpet, and then he’s staring at Eddie’s ridiculous polka dot socks as Eddie steps in front of him.
“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “You, uh… okay?”
It’s kind of a ridiculous question – the answer is obvious, and Eddie clearly knows that, but it’s a way to start a conversation without shouting, “Your parents are ungrateful pieces of shit who never appreciated you,” like he probably wants to (and has before), and Steve appreciates his restraint.
He nods a little, stops, shrugs.
“I kind of thought I was over this,” he says. “Over feeling… left behind by them. Shouldn’t still hurt, right?”
“It’s– it’s okay if it does. It’s shit, Steve. They’re shit,” Eddie says (yep, Steve called it). “You’re allowed to be hurt.”
Steve shrugs again.
“It’s funny,” he says, even though it isn’t, “but I used to wonder how long it would take them to notice if I died.”
He’d never had an active plan, really, though there had been plenty of ways around the house to accomplish the task. He’d never really even looked at it as being suicidal, just angry and bitter and lonely. He hadn’t felt miserable all the time, hadn’t felt like there was nothing in the world worth living for – it’s not like he’d been depressed, it had just been a wild, almost satisfying thought that occurred from time to time. The ultimate way to prove a point. To make them see.
And if the urge got too strong, and his head got too full, and his chest felt too hollow, and the house felt too empty, he’d just go out and find something to do. Simple as that.
“I wondered if it would only be a day or two, or if they would come home, like, weeks later and find what was left of me just… floating in the pool or rotting in the bathtub or some shit. And I guess I just got my answer.” He laughs, managing to sound completely humorless even in the attempt, and glances up at Eddie. “Three weeks. How decomposed do you think I’d be by now?”
Except Eddie doesn’t pick up the bit. He’s just staring at Steve, wide-eyed, cheeks a little red, eyes a little wet, and – shit.
“Shit, Ed, I didn’t–”
“Don’t,” Eddie cuts in, voice thick with a shaking kind of intensity, “say shit like that. Fucking don’t ever– Steve–”
“No, Eddie, I’m sorry, I haven’t thought about that in years, this whole thing with my parents, it just… it reminded me, that’s all,” Steve says, even if that isn’t strictly true.
He’s thought about it plenty, he just hasn’t really had the urge to follow through since the first time he took a bat to a demogorgon’s head. He’d traded that empty feeling for one of purpose, of knowing he was needed, and had readily put himself between everyone else and the danger they were facing, because at least that way he filled a space.
(Maybe he’d traded it a little too easily. Maybe there isn’t a lot of difference between using yourself as bait to lure in a demodog and thinking about where all the sharp things are in the house. Maybe that’s something Steve doesn’t need to unpack right now.)
Eddie stumbles forwards, reaching out and cupping Steve’s face in his hands, angling him upwards so Eddie fills his field of vision.
“I would notice,” Eddie says firmly. “I would notice.”
“I– I know you would, Eddie. I told you–”
“Robin would notice. Dustin – all those little shits we hang out with, both Wheelers, Wayne, fuckin’ Byers– we would notice right away, Steve, I swear to fuck, we would,” Eddie goes on, and something is suddenly sticking in Steve’s throat.
“I– I know,” Steve manages to choke out, and shit, why are his eyes wet now? He’s never cried over this feeling before, and it should be too fucking late to start now – except with everything happening, with his parents, with the way Eddie is staring at him like he’s about to disappear–
Eddie bends one leg up until he’s got a knee to one side of Steve’s hip, half-kneeling over him without boxing him in because he knows Steve can’t stand that, and he rests his weight there so he can lean in and press his lips to Steve’s forehead, kissing him, murmuring against the skin like he’s praying.
“We see you, baby.”
And that one hurts.
It fucking aches, like Eddie has somehow managed to reach back four years and jam a thumb into the bruise seventeen-year-old Steve had constantly been carrying under his ribs, and Steve of right now reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt and thinks for a moment that he wants to shove him away, but his next breath heaves out like a sob and he can only pull Eddie closer.
“We see you,” Eddie says again, soft but unignorable, before he presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead.
Yeah, Steve thinks, you see right through me.
It’s a terrifying feeling, and Steve wants to swallow it up and keep inside of him where he can feel it forever. He nods against Eddie’s lips, sucking in a sharp breath so he can speak again.
“Okay,” Steve says, clutching more tightly to Eddie’s shirt. “Okay.”
He closes his eyes against the unwanted tears and lets himself feel, instead – the warmth of Eddie over and around him, the near bruising grip Eddie still has on his jaw, the softness of his lips against his forehead, and he thinks that this is what he’d been searching for, all those years ago.
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this wanted, and somehow he doubts he’ll ever have to worry about going without it again.
[Prompt: Forehead kisses]
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sydnikov · 2 months
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Being Bold || S. Jarvis
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader
Word Count: 7.4k
Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing
A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!
*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.
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You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.
Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.
Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.
He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.
Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.
He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.
“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.
“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.
Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.
Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.
“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.
You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.
“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”
“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”
“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.
“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”
Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.
Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.
Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.
But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.
“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?
Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.
“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”
“Space? You think she just needs space?”
“Well, not too much space—”
“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.
Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.
Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.
In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?
You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.
It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.
Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.
Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.
You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.
The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.
The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.
“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.
You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”
“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”
It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.
“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”
“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”
You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.
If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.
“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”
You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”
Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.
You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.
The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.
“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.
“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.
You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.
The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.
“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”
Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.
“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”
You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”
“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”
Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.
You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”
That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.
“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”
Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.
Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.
He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”
You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.
“I want you. You know that, baby.”
“Seth…”
“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.
You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.
Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.
“Okay.”
Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”
That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.
“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”
“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”
He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.
You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.
He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.
You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.
For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.
“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.
“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.
He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.
“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.
Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.
You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.
He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.
You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.
“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”
You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.
“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.
“Not long enough, babe.”
You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.
What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.
“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.
He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.
You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.
Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.
Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.
“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.
“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.
Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.
“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.
“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.
Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.
“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.
He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.
“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.
Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.
Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.
And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?
You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.
If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.
You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.
Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.
You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.
Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.
He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.
Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.
Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.
“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”
Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.
“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.
Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.
When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.
“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”
Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.
“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”
“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.
Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.
“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”
Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.
And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.
There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.
Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”
“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”
“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”
His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.
His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.
It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.
By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.
You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.
You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.
Especially after Scott. Asshole.
You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.
“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.
His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.
“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.
Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.
Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”
You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.
Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.
He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.
“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”
“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.
Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.
“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.
You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.
“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.
He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.
“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”
“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.
Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.
Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.
You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.
Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.
You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.
“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.
Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.
While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.
Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.
All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.
With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.
When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.
He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.
“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.
You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.
Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”
Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.
He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”
“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.
His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.
When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?
He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.
Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:
Be bold.
“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”
As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”
Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.
“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”
And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.
“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”
“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”
“Okay.”
It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.
“Can I be your boyfriend now?”
“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”
You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”
“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.
But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.
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A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu
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beybaldes · 10 months
Text
it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know
Roy Kent × Fem!Reader
word count : 15.1k a fucking whopper I started writing and couldn’t stop this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written in my life
summary : the 5 times Phoebe got dropped off at your house and the 5 times Roy realised he was in love with you.
content warning : tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent family line, a little angst if you squint really really hard, allusions to smut towards the end but non actually written, me calling Roy’s sister Molly but I can’t remember where I first saw it, no use of yn.
masterlist
a/n : if you want to see a spin off based on any part of this please dot because writing this has broke my writers block!!!! I’d love to write some more Roy <33
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1. the first time
It had taken Roy about 15 seconds to decide he was going to drop Phoebe off with you.
When Molly had shown up on his doorstep at 5am, with an asleep Phoebe in her arms, citing she'd been called in for a surgery, he mentally rearranged his whole day to accommodate for his favourite girl. It wasn't until lunchtime rolled around that he remembered an important meeting with Ted and Beard that he, unfortunately, couldn't get out of. So, while brainstorming who on earth he could leave Phoebe with, his mind quickly settled on you.
You were sensible and probably good with kids considering he could remember a couple of mentions of a niece of your own, and he knew - given it was the weekend - that you'd probably be free to look after her. And, not to Roy's surprise, you'd quickly said yes when he called to ask if that was okay.
While it had only been 20 minutes since Roy called, he was already at your doorstep, Phoebe's hand held tightly in his as they waited for you to answer the door.
"Is she pretty?" Phoebe asked, eyes unmoving from the unfamiliar front door as she spoke to her uncle Roy.
Roy scoffed at the question, unsure where it had come from and why his niece couldn't have asked this in the car. If she'd asked in the car he would've given an enthusiastic yes, a smile creeping on his lips as he thought about you, and how you always looked pretty - even if you were in a Richmond pullover and sulking in your office - especially then, actually. "Why does it matter?"
Before Phoebe could answer him, your front door swung open, you behind it with a wide smile. No sooner then it had opened, you'd crouched down to Phoebe's level, giving her a small wave and a bright smile. "Hi Phoebe! I hope you don't mind that you've got to spend the day with me instead of your uncle Roy."
"I don't mind at all," Phoebe shrugged, the straps of her backpack moving greatly with the movement of her much smaller shoulders. "I see my uncle roy all the time."
The laugh that bubbled past your lips made Roy's heart skip a beat, and for a moment he forgot why he was even standing on your doorstep.
As you stood up straight, you gently took Phoebes hand in your own, pulling her closer to you and your home and giving Roy the opportunity to head off for his meeting. "We should let your uncle Roy get going then, shouldn't we?"
"Thanks again for doing this, I owe you one." Maybe I could take you to dinner as thanks? Roy wanted to add, but wasn't brave enough to do so. If he wasn't so head over heels for you, maybe it's be easier to do something about it.
"Don't worry about it," you brushed him off, gently pushing him off of your doorstep and back in the direction of his car, knowing he had places to be. "I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."
"Bye uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, giving him one last wave before running into your house, you quickly following after her to make sure she didn't injure herself exploring the new territory.
Thankfully, she made a b-line for your couch, climbing onto it and emptying the contents of her backpack out on the seat next to her. She pulled a colouring book into her lap and grabbed a fist full of pens, quickly pulling off the caps of her favourite colours and getting to work on her masterpiece.
"Have you had any lunch yet, Phoebe?"
"No, uncle Roy was about to make me lunch when he called you."
While you knew Roy was rushing to his meeting, you didn't realise he'd seemed to forget about it completely.
Phoebes lack of lunch had you searching through all your cupboards for something suitable to feed a 7 year old, and when you couldn't find anything you'd have wanted to eat at 7, your turned to her with a smile. "How do you feel about a trip to Tesco? You can pick out whatever you want for lunch?"
"Perfect!" Phoebe cheered, pushing her pens to the side as quickly as she'd picked them up, running back to your front door to put her shoes and coat on. As soon as she was dressed, you opened up the front door, grabbing your car keys from the dish by the door and directing her in the direction of your car as she ran ahead of you in her excitement.
"Phoebe, you don't need a booster seat do you?" While you had your own niece, she was still young enough to be in a carrier everywhere she went, so you weren't entirely sure what the protocol was for 7 year olds.
"I don't have one in my uncle Roy's car." That was good enough for you.
Phoebe spent the whole car ride to the shops chatting your ear off, bringing you up to speed on everything that was happening at school and football and how many times she'd been red carded this season alone. In many ways, she was like a miniature version of Roy, so it was easy to love being in her presence.
As you arrived at Tesco, you made Phoebe promise she'd stay close to you at all times, not wanting to lose her as soon as Roy had entrusted her in to your care - that wouldn't be good for anyone involved. Phoebe was quick to pull you by the hand in the direction of the frozen aisle, clearly set on something in particular for her lunch.
She broke free from your hold as you reached the end of the aisle, heading straight in the direction of the frozen chicken nuggets and pulling as hard as she could to open the door. Once she'd managed to pry the door open, she climbed inside of the freezer, attempting to reach one of the higher up shelves in search of what she wanted.
"Phoebe, sweetheart, let me help you." As you stood behind Phoebe, you put your hands under her arms, picking her up and bringing her to your height so that she could grab whatever she'd been looking for. "Turkey Dinosaurs? Good choice."
"The only correct choice, bruv." Isaac was right behind you, Colin on his left and Will on his right.
"Oh, boys, hi!" Phoebe leaned in closer towards you as the sudden appearance of the three men. While she'd exhumed confidence from the moment you'd met her a few hours ago, she seemed to shy away slightly at the sight of the three footballers. "What're you doing here?"
"Day off, innit." Isaac, never a man of many words, was quick to answer your question, though had one waiting for you in return. "Who's this?"
Phoebe's grip around your neck increased slightly again as Isaac pointed directly at her. You shifted her in your arms so that she'd face the three a bit better, knowing non of them posed any threat to her. "This is Phoebe. Phoebe this is Colin, Isaac and Will; say hi."
Now that she'd been introduced to them, a wide smile curled onto Phoebes face, her toothy grin making an appearance that had Colin and Isaac smiling right back.
"I didn't know you were a mum." Will spluttered out, staring at you and Phoebe with a rather surprised look on his face.
"Oh, I'm not," you were quick to reassure, though immediately regretted it as you had no clue how to explain how this child they'd never seen before had come into your care. You knew Roy well enough to know he loved his privacy more then anything, so you decided the best course of action was to keep it. "She's my niece."
"Cool." Isaac nodded, prompting the others to nod on silent acceptance of the knowledge they'd just gained. "Can you pass me a bag of the turkey dinosaurs, Phoebe?"
As soon as Isaac got his bag of turkey dinosaurs, he, Colin and Will were quick to leave, waving a goodbye to the two of you and getting on with the own shop. Once they'd left the aisle, you let out a loud sigh, pent up tension from the sudden reunion seeping out of your body. Phoebe dropped the turkey dinosaurs into the basket you'd picked up, wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand instead.
"Why did you tell them I was your niece?" Phoebe guided you further down the frozen aisle as she questioned your actions, walking a few paces in front of you, your connect hands dangling between the two of you.
"Your uncle Roy is a very private person," you started, unsure exactly of what was the right thing to tell a 7 year old on such a matter. "I didn't want to tell them you were Roy's niece in case they decided that meant something more"
"Something more?" Phoebe wandered out loud, stopping in front of the ice cream section and pulling the door open. "Like if they though that meant you were dating my uncle Roy."
Jesus Christ, 7 year olds were so much smarter and observant then you'd thought. "Yeah, something like that."
"And why aren't you dating?" You didn't know what to say to that, instead opting to pick Phoebe up once more so that she could reach the specific tub of ice cream she was searching for. "My mum says uncle Roy should date someone nice and you're nice."
"Well I'm glad you think I'm nice, pheeb's." You ruffled the blondes hair as you placed her back on the ground, allowing her to place the ice cream in the basket before grabbing her hand once more. "How about we grab a pizza too? Just incase you're here for tea?"
Phoebe loved the idea, sprinting down to the end of the aisle in search of the pizzas with a wide smile on her face.
The rest of your day with Phoebe had flown by, you'd come home and eaten your lunch of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles, done some colouring in, played knights and dragons, eaten your ice cream, and watched a movie. As the first spy kids had come to an end, something you'd put on at phoebes request all though you were heavily invested in it the whole time, you put the pizza she'd picked out in the oven.
"Phoebe," you shouted from the kitchen as you made your way back into the living room. "It's getting kind of late, sweetheart, do you have any pjs in your bag?"
"No," she instantly replied, licking her spoon clean of ice cream even though it only really added to the rim of vanilla that had formed around her mouth. "I don't pack pjs in my bag because I have some in my room at uncle Roy's house."
If you'd have had the common sense to ask earlier, you might've picked some up while the two of you were in Tesco, but you hadn't, and now you had to make do with what you had. "You want to get in some of my pjs pheeb's? I'll get into pjs too and then we can be all comfy while we eat our pizza and watch spy kids 2."
"I won't fit in your pjs." Phoebe countered, but got off the couch nonetheless, placing her empty bowl on your coffee table and joining you by the kitchen door. Lacing her fingers through your own she allowed you to guide her in the direction of your room.
She dove straight for the bed when you opened the door, similarly to how she'd made a b-line for your sofa earlier in the day when she'd arrived, but was quick to hop right back off of it when you opened your wardrobe doors. You stood quietly behind her as she picked out one of your T-shirts to act as a night dress.
"This one!" She proclaimed, quick to swap her current outfit for your top before sprinting out of your bedroom. Before you could ask what on earth she was doing, the oven started to beep. "Pizza's ready!"
You picked up the pile of clothes Phoebe had left behind, throwing it by her shoes at the door so that you wouldn't forget to pack them up whenever Roy came to collect her. Then you went back to the kitchen, clicking the timer off to stop the loud beeping and pulling the pizza out of the oven. Phoebe stood behind you doing some kind of 'pizza dance' as she'd called it as you cut it into 8 slices, grabbing one big plate to place it onto.
"Race you back to the sofa." Phoebe didn't need to be told twice, running for the sofa and throwing herself into the mess of blankets, pillows and felt tip pens. As soon as the two of you were comfortably settled, you put spy kids 2 on, the pair of you tucking into your dinner without a thought spared as to where Roy was or just how late it was really getting.
Though you didn't remember falling asleep, a knocking at your front door had you waking up. Sometime between pizza and now, Phoebe had crawled into your lap, and instead of waking her to go to the door, you scooped her into your arms, resting her on your hip as you stumbled sleepily from your sofa to your front door.
When you opened the door, Roy looked like he'd been prepped with an apology, something about how he'd never meant to come back so late and how he really owed you one now but his words befell him at the sight of you and Phoebe on the other side of the door.
It was a sight to behold, especially to a lovesick Roy. Your hair was all tousled and you still looked half asleep, Phoebe was fast asleep in your arms and in what he guessed was one of your shirts. "Roy," you crooned, opening the door even wider. "Come in, I just need to pack up Phoebe's stuff."
Roy shuffled into your living room, his hands still tucked stiffly in his pockets as you began to pace around the room packing phoebes things while she was still in your arms. It was a level of domesticity Roy hadn't been prepared to see when he came to pick up his niece, and it sent his head whirling.
It was almost too easy to imagine you in this position with him, and a child of your own in your arms instead. He shook the thought from his head, bending down to pick up phoebe's day clothes and shoes from beside the door as you put all her felt tips back into her bag, along with her colouring book - save the first drawing she'd done which she'd torn out, demanding you keep it to remember your day together.
When you were certain you'd collected everything from the couch that had come in her bag, and put it back where it belonged, you turned to face Roy with a sleepy smile. "How was your coaches meeting?"
A smile curled on Roy's lips, something rare that almost surprised you to see. "Good. Long. But we got shit done so I can't really complain; although it would've been nice if it could've wrapped up before fucking midnight."
"Oh my god, is it that late?" You passed Phoebe's backpack to Roy, watching fondly as he slid one strap over his shoulder like clockwork. The thought couldn't help but slip into your mind that it was a sight you'd like to see more often.
"What did you two get up to today?" Roy asked, pulling Phoebes coat from the hanger by the door and slinging it over the crook in his elbow.
"Well, we went and got some lunch, and did some colouring, and played knights and dragons and watched spy kids 1 and 2. She kept me nice and busy, don't you worry."
Roy reached out for phoebe, taking her slowly and gently from your hold in his best attempt to keep her asleep as he took her home. "Not too busy I hope."
"No just the right amount." You bit back a laugh, cautious to not wake the sleeping child now that she was safely in her uncles arms. Pushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear, you thought back fondly on the day you'd shared and how easily It was to get on with Phoebe. "She's a great kid."
"Yeah, she really is." Finally, Roy was back on your doorstep, Phoebe in his arms and the pitch black of night behind him. "Thanks again, I really owe you one."
"It's no issue, really, I had a great time." You closed your door too, you leaning against the edge of the it being the only thing keeping it open. "Always happy to do it again, if you need me."
A million different responses crossed Roy's mind, some just inappropriate and some really fucking corny, so he settled on the easiest one to say. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight." You responded with a small wave, creeping back into the darkness of your house without another word.
As Roy made the short walk down from your front door to his car, he tried to control the erratic beating of his heart less it wake Phoebe up. Though you'd offered to take Phoebe in again if he ever needed it, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to take you up on the offer, not when the domestic scene of you with his niece made his feelings for you even more intense.
—————————————————————————
2. the time when Roy had too many appointments
Though Roy had sworn he wouldn't drop Phoebe off with you again for the sake of his own feelings, he was calling you up to ask if you could look after her again less then a week later. Molly had been called into work again last minute, and it just so happened to be on the day when Roy decided to get all his check ups out of the way in one fell swoop.
You'd assured him through the phone that it was okay, and that you'd absolutely love to hang out with her again, however, when you'd asked how soon he'd be dropping her off the line went quiet.
"That's the thing," Roy started, a hesitance to his tone that told you he was reconsidering this whole request and on the verge of rescheduling his 5pm dentist appointment. "You'd need to pick her up from school. I can pick her up from 7pm, at the latest, so you'd just need to pick her up from school and give her some tea. I hope that's not too big-"
You didn't let Roy finish his sentence. "It's no problem Roy, really. Send me the address and I'll be there at 3pm?"
"Pick ups at 3:10, but that's perfect, thank you." You couldn't even see him and you could feel the smile that was pulling at his lips on the other side of the phone. "I really fucking mean that too, thank you."
"It's no problem Roy, really, I'll see you later."
You had an hour before you needed to pick Phoebe up, so you made a run for Tesco, picking up a jar of pasta sauce incase she didn't want the half a bag of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles that were still in your freezer, a bag of popcorn incase she didn't want ice cream again, and a set of kids size 8 pjs.
Though Roy said he'd be back for her by 7pm, you doubted she'd want to stay in her school uniform, and it'd be better to get a size 8 and it be too big then pick up a size 7 and it be too small.
On a second thought, you grabbed a second pair of the plain pjs, and some tiny slippers, knowing it wouldn't harm anyone to keep a spare pair of comfy clothes and shoes for her incase she came by again at the last minute. While you were in the kids clothing section, you picked up a pair of jeans and a pack of plain T-shirts, wanting to be prepared incase she were to ever show up in her pyjamas instead of her day clothes. Deciding you'd got everything you needed, you sped through the checkouts and got in your car, not wanting to be late to pick up Phoebe from school.
Luckily, you arrived with 5 minutes to spare, lingering around the gate with the other parents that had come to pick up there kids. Only then did it dawn on you that you may have needed some kind of note to prove you weren't kidnapping Phoebe and as you pulled out your phone to text Roy in a frenzy, you'd discovered he'd already sent you a message.
Teacher knows you're coming, I got Molly to send a message. might ask you to sign some shit confirming you picked her up though.
Even though Roy wasn't here, you felt ten times calmer, moving through the gate as it opened and towards the classroom door furthest from it, as Roy had told you to go to. A loud bell rung and suddenly kids came sprinting out from all directions, some running straight to and out of the main gate and others nervously looking around for whoever was picking them up.
You watched as a head of blonde hair in two neat plaits lingered in the classroom door, eyes scanning the playground for a familiar face, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she made eye contact with you. With a cry of your name, Phoebe came running from the classroom, a bright smile on her face at your sudden appearance outside her classroom. "What are you doing here?"
"Your uncle Roy has got the dentist, so we're going to go back to mine for tea - if that's okay pheeb's?"
"That's perfect! Lets go home." Phoebe tried to pull you out of the playground and back to your car, but you pulled her back to stand in front of you.
"One minute sweetheart, got to make sure your teacher knows I'm not kidnapping you." Phoebe lead you right back to the classroom door, calling on her teacher, Ms Bowen, as she dragged you into the room. "Hi, Ms Bowen, I'm here to pick Phoebe up; I think Molly told you I was coming?"
"Ah yes, Mrs Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you." Mrs Kent Mrs Kent Mrs Kent. Molly, Roy's sister, had told Phoebe's teacher that you were Mrs Kent. It took everything in you not to absolutely spiral with the new piece of information.
"Yeah, lovely to meet you," You tried to avoid Ms Bowen's gaze, it having an edge to it that suggested you weren't entirely welcome here. "Roy said I might have to sign something, so you know I'm not fucking kidnapping her or anything." As soon as the words slipped from your mouth you were apologising for them. "I'm so sorry that just slipped out."
"Well, at least I can be sure you're Mrs Kent. You and Phoebe are free to go." You barely had time to say goodbye to Ms Bowen before Phoebe was dragging you towards your car, impatiently pulling at the handle in an attempt to get in quicker and spend even more time with you. If you weren't so caught up in the fact you'd just been called Mrs Kent, then maybe you'd find her excitement even more endearing.
"So, how was school, pheeb's?"
The car ride back home was filled with another update from Phoebe on what you'd missed in the 4 days you hadn't seen each other and the 3 days of school she'd had since the weekend. Since it was a slightly longer drive back home then from Tesco, you'd even got to introduce Phoebe to some of your favourite songs.
As you pulled onto your street, Phoebe was already buzzing in her seat, desperate it seemed to get inside. Letting her make a run for the door as you got out of the car, knowing she couldn't get in without your key, you made your way around to the boot, pulling out your bag of goodies. "Got you some stuff to change into pheeb's," pulling out both the pyjamas and the normal clothes, you handed them to her, keeping the slippers in the bag still. "Go get changed and bring me your uniform when your done, yeah? I'll pop it in the wash for your mum and we can put on a movie or something until tea time."
Phoebe was sprinting off in the direction of your bedroom to change within seconds of you finishing speaking. In the two times you'd had the pleasure of meeting Phoebe she always seemed to be rushing and running about, but that was what kids were like, you guessed; even if she was the calmest child ever - and she was pretty calm compared to some of those other kids you'd seen in the playground today - you reckon you'd think she was all over the place, especially compared to yourself.
When Phoebe came back out in the plaid, pink pyjama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, she declared she wasn't hungry yet and wanted to watch spy kids 3; telling you it was basically mandatory for you finished the movie series now you'd watched the first 2. You were happy to oblige of course, Phoebe cuddling into your side as you took a seat next to her on the sofa.
Half an hour into the movie, you whispered the question of what to have for dinner to Phoebe and she perked up at the mention of pasta, allowing you to bail on the second half of the film in order to make it. It didn't take long of course, but you were wary of the fact Roy was picking her up sooner rather then later this time around.
Roy. Roy. Even thinking of the handsome coach you worked with had your thoughts spiralling. Once you'd managed to crack your way through his hard exterior, you'd found one of the most thoughtful and caring people you've ever met, and if you didn't like him already, that side of him had you falling head over heels. The Roy that brought you coffee in the mornings when he stopped to get his own, the Roy that would buy you lunch without asking if you wanted any but would kick up a fuss if anyone else tried to get him to add to that order, the Roy that left sticky note reminders on the door of your office because he knew you'd forget something, the Roy that trusted you so much he was willing to leave his niece with you on multiple occasions. Your brain had been so consumed by Roy that you'd made him up a plate of pasta, and instead of putting it back into the pot, settled with covering it in tinfoil and giving it him to take home. However, before you could call Phoebe in to ask if she wanted cheese on top of her pasta, there was a knock at your door.
In an instant, you pulled the tinfoil back off of the extra plate of pasta, and opened the bag of grated cheese, then rushed to the door, opening wide to find Roy on the other side. "You're just in time for dinner." Without thinking, or so much as a hello, how are you, or how was the dentist, you grabbed Roy's hand, pulling him inside your house and into your kitchen. "Pheeb's dinner!"
"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, running into the brunettes arms, him bending down to pick her up. As soon as she was perched in his hold, she was quick to recount the days events like she had with you a couple of hours earlier, only pausing to answer your question of 'cheese?' and taking a fistful to sprinkle on her plate whilst finishing her recap of the day.
It was only then did Roy notice that you'd already played three bowls of pasta up, even though you shouldn't have been expecting him soon enough to eat with the two of you. Carefully he put Phoebe down, handing her her bowl of pasta and urging her to get back to the sofa and eat, promising that the two of you were right behind her.
"You made me up a plate?" Roy asked, part confused and part in complete adoration. The simplicity of it; such a small action meant so much to the retired footballer. Even in his absence you'd thought of him, made extra food for him, plated it up perfectly in time with his arrival. If he allowed his thoughts to wander, he would've revelled in the warmth of the action, in how loved it made him feel - as though normalcy was something completely within his grasps. As if it was something he could easily have with you.
"Yeah, of course I did. Can't have my favourite coach going hungry, can I?" You squeezed at his hand when you called him your favourite coach, and only god knows what would've happened if Phoebe hadn't called your name from the room over. Roy was certain he would've made a move; told you exactly the kind of effect you had on him, or squeezed your hand back, or even kissed you. Though he wasn't entirely sure, he knew he wouldn't have let the moment slip through his fingers so easily.
Although, when he walked into the living room, palate of pasta in hand, he received something better then anything that could've happened in your kitchen. You and Phoebe were curled up together on the couch, her little legs thrown over your lap and a pillow on her lap for her to balance her pasta on. Phoebe's head rested against your shoulder as she ate and you turned to see where Roy was, a smile curling on your face as you saw him in your kitchen doorway, pasta in hand.
You craved the domestic scene that was now playing out before you, like something straight out of a dream.
Phoebe's favourite place on your sofa had quickly become the corner, meaning the only space available was next to you. Roy, for once in his life, took full advantage of the opportunity, sitting as close to you as he could claim was suitable and allowing himself to really enjoy the moment.
Even when dinner was long finished, the three of you were curled up together. Spy Kids 4 had been put on in order to appease Phoebe's demands that you finish the series and Roy's arm moving to the back of your couch cushions, and in turn over your shoulders, meant he'd slowly moved closer to you. The two of you spent the movie talking in quiet whispers, you filling him in on any context needed from the first three movies and him telling you about his day full of appointments. The pair of you would've happily stayed there, on your couch, cuddled up together, forever, but Phoebe's gentle snores told you it was best for them to get going.
"She's already in pjs, so you don't have to worry about that and - oh!" You left Roy in your doorway, an asleep Phoebe in his arms in a mirror image of 4 nights before. "I washed her uniform so Molly wouldn't have to."
Roy's heart was bursting at the seams at the evening you'd shared, and now this? While it may not seem like much to most people, to Roy it was everything. Not only had you offered to look after his niece on multiple occasions at the last minute, you'd gone out of your way to buy her pyjamas that fit just because she was coming by, and you'd washed her uniform to take a weight off of her mum's shoulders - who you'd yet to even meet. It's like you were trying to make him fall ridiculously in love with you.
Love.
That wasn't a word Roy was supposed to use; at least not when you were only friends. But how could he not fall in love with you? He was sure that anyone who spent more then 10 seconds in a room with you fell in love with you; how could they not? You were so easy to love; selfless and caring in a way he'd never seen before, someone truly one of a kind.
"Seriously, thank you." Roy's face entirely softened as he spoke, tension seeping out from his features to a degree you'd never seen before. "I don't think you know exactly how much this means to me and Molly."
"Oh please Roy, It's nothing-"
Roy cut you off, his hand coming to rest on your arm, his thumb running up and down your forearm. "No. It's a fucking lot - and it means a fucking lot. Just accept the thank you, yeah?"
A bashful smile creeped onto your lips, your head ducking as you suddenly became very aware of the fact Roy was looking at you and touching you. "Okay, yeah, you're welcome."
"Perfect." Once again, you got a glimpse at the dazzling smile that Roy kept reserved for only the most important people in his life, the look of it alone making your knees weak. They only got weaker as Roy leaned in closer to you, placing a chaste yet scratchy kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight."
In a daze, you murmured a 'goodnight' back, this time waiting until he'd driven off before going back inside; and even then, you stood behind your door, processing exactly what had just happened and why you hadn't returned the sweet gesture.
Roy Kent and his adorable niece were going to be the death of you.
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3. the time you were meant to be going on a date
So far, in the three hours you'd been getting ready, you'd done your eye liner, wiped one side off, redone it, wiped the other side off and redone that, at least 200 times. You just couldn't get it to look right. And when you'd expressed to Keeley that maybe this was a sign from above you shouldn't be going on this date, she'd insisted, yet again, that you had to go because she was your perfect match.
Though you'd never met the girl, Keeley was determined to set you up with her, claiming from the very second she'd walked into KJPR asking about a job, she knew she was the one for you.
Part of you thought she just wanted to help you get over Roy, especially since this was the 9th blind date she'd set you up on since you'd confided in her about your feelings for the ruggedly handsome coach. Each one she'd claimed was your soulmate and each one, so far, had turned out to be a complete and utter douche bag. Despite her failure to actually find someone compatible for you, you greatly appreciated her enthusiasm and effort.
A knock on your door had you screeching down your phone at Keeley that you weren't ready for this, but one last twirl in front of the camera, and a 'you look hot as fuck babe' from the matchmaker herself, had you ready to face your date.
To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you were met with Roy, Molly and Phoebe, all in pyjamas and Phoebe's little hands curled into tight fists that twisted into the fabric of her uncles T-shirt. It took you a second to process the scene before you before you could offer a rather confused, "Hello?"
Though this wouldn't be the first time Roy had shown up with Phoebe on your doorstep, it was the first time he'd ever shown up unannounced and with his sister in tow. "This is a bad time, isn't it." Roy's sister, who you'd come to recognise as Molly, whispered, her gaze flickering across your knee length, fitted, red dress. "You look stunning though."
"Oh my god, thank you." With the silence finally broken, it was like your brain had brought the rest of your body up to speed, offending a hand out for Molly to shake. "Molly, right? It's great to finally meet you."
"Great to meet you too, I've heard great things." General pleasantries we're exchanged between the two of you, though it wasn't as awkward as it usually was when you were meeting new people, instead it was like bumping into someone you hadn't seen in a few years but genuinely missed.
In the noise of your small talk, Phoebe took the opportunity to whisper three little words into her uncles ear. "She's so pretty."
Roy's cheeks burned as his niece said everything he couldn't, and so easily too. It was obvious you were dressed up for a date in that long, burgundy dress that hugged you just right, and he was struggling to take his eyes off of you.
"So what brings you to my doorstep at 6pm on a Monday?" You asked, hesitant to ask at all incase you touched a sore spot. Molly had never shown up with Roy when he dropped Phoebe off, which told you this was potentially more serious then his other last minute drop offs - especially when he'd never shown up unannounced before. "Not that I'm upset that you're here or anything, just a bit confused."
"Clearly, you're on your way out, so we won't bother you, we just-"
You didn't let Molly explain, pulling out your phone, and sending to a quick message to your date and to Keeley, explaining some family stuff had come up last minute and offering to go out some other time. "My evening just freed up, actually." You offered Molly a genuine smile, taking Phoebe from Roy's hold and into your own. "Why don't you go and get into your pjs Hun, and then we'll pick out a movie?"
"Do you still have my ice cream?" Phoebe asked, tilting her head to look at you better. Now she was closer, you noticed her eyes were rubbed red, almost like she'd been crying.
"Of course I do sweetheart, and I've still got turkey dinosaurs if you've not eaten dinner yet."
A sniffly 'yes please' left phoebes lips before she got down from your hold, running into the direction of your bedroom without so much as a goodbye to her mum or her uncle Roy. When Phoebe was out of earshot, you closed the door a little, talking in hushed tones. "Is everything okay? What's going on?" And with a second thought, you added. "You don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to pry."
"Phoebes dad showed up." Molly simply stated, folding her arms across her chest protectively. "He knows he's not allowed around her, and we didn't know where else to take her while we dealt with him." Your heart ached for the little girl. In the short time you'd got to know Phoebe, you'd quickly come to absolutely love her to pieces - and you couldn't understand how anyone wold want to hurt her. Phoebe was a complete and utter ray of sunshine and, considering she was only 7 years old, was one of the kindest and smartest people you'd ever met. "You didn't have to take her, if we'd have known you had plans we wouldn't have just fucking shown up."
Molly sharply dug her elbow into Roy's side as she spoke, clearly signalling that she'd thought that Roy had had the decency to ask you if you would watch Phoebe before they showed up in your doorstep. A laugh bubbled past your lips at how offended Roy got by his sisters words, a comeback never leaving his lips as you interrupted him with a smile. "It's fine, really, I love hanging out with Phoebe. Besides, I wasn't really looking forward to this date anyway."
Now that caught Roy's attention. "Why not? You look fucking great, you'd have probably had a great time too."
Rather selfishly, Roy was incredibly thankful that they'd show up unannounced, he didn't want you to go on a date, and it seemed as if you didn't either. "Keeley keeps pushing me to go on these blind dates, it's not really my thing, but she keeps insisting she's found my soulmate, so I keep going on them to appease her." You leaned in closer to the two incase Phoebe heard your next words, though considering she was related to Roy, you knew she'd heard worse. "All of them have been fucking pricks so far though."
"Good thing we showed up then, yeah."
"Yeah."
Molly looked between the two of you with a smile bit back between her teeth, trying her hardest not to give anything away as she watched the two of you. "Well, we better get going, deal with this so we can take her off your hands as soon as."
Taking Phoebe's back pack from Molly's outstretched hands, you slung it over your shoulder. "Oh don't worry about rushing back, she's more then welcome to stay the night here. Do you need me to drop her off at school in the morning?"
"Oh no, she's all finished for summer now, so you don't have to worry about that." Molly's gaze lingered on you for a while, then she pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you in such a way you felt like a kid again. "Thank you so much for this. I really mean that."
Tears threatened to pool in your eyes at the genuine thankfulness to her words. Roy had told you before that he and Molly greatly appreciated you looking after Phoebe every now and then, but this felt so different to that - it made you understand why he'd told you to just accept the thank you.
"Yeah, of course, like I keep telling Roy, anytime you need me, I'm here."
"Oh, wait." Before Roy and Molly could head back to his car, he handed you a carrier bag that he'd been holding at his side since he appeared on your doorstep. "Your tshirt, and those pyjamas. I wasn't sure if you had anymore, and kept meaning to return them to you anyway."
"Ah, thank you!" Though you never said anything when Phoebe raided your closest, she'd picked your favourite sleep shirt, and you were glad to have it back. "I got another pair of pyjamas for her in my wardrobe anyway, or she could've just used another one of my shirts; she would've been fine either way. But, thank you Roy, I appreciate it."
"Yeah, no worries, washed them for you and everything so, they're all good to go." Molly shouted a goodbye to Phoebe who had made herself comfortable in her spot on your couch, and then said one to you, thanking you again for your help. You said one last goodbye to both her and Roy, waiting on your doorstep to wave them off before going back inside to tend to Phoebe.
Once Roy had driven out of your street and had started on the journey back to his sisters place, she turned to him with a shit-eating grin on her face. Molly had been waiting years to be able to tease Roy about someone he liked, and while he'd had plenty of flings over the years, nothing was ever serious enough, and non of them were ever nice enough, that Molly felt like she could get a rise out of Roy by teasing him. This time though, she knew it was different.
"She's incredible." Molly started, keeping her gaze intently on her brother, though his remained firmly on the road. "She cancelled her date to look after Phoebe, already had a change of clothes and food for her, and she's fucking hot." Molly let out an overly loud sigh as Roy ignored her words. "So tell me why on earth you haven't made a move on her yet? Because if you don't, I certainly will."
"Fuck off." Roy grunted, his grip on the wheel tightening at his sisters words. "She's obviously not interested in me like that if she was going on a date with a fucking stranger." Now that he'd started talking on the matter, Roy was worried he'd never stop. He'd not yet had the opportunity to talk about his feelings for you, the matter being as simple as he wasn't sure who he could tell. He even went as far as considering calling a diamond dogs meeting to get the weight off of his chest, but luckily, or rather unluckily for Roy, his sister had beaten the diamond dogs to it. "I wouldn't want to ruin what we already have anyway. She's so... good, with, like, everything. She's so kind, and she cares so much about everyone else; did I tell you she made me dinner when I asked her to pick Phoebe up when I had the dentist? And Phoebe! She's so good with Phoebe and I just- fuck!"
"That hard to get the words out, huh?" Molly teased, poking her brother sharply in the arm. "You must really like her." Before Roy could interrupt with what Molly knew would be another iteration of 'fuck off,' she added. "She likes you too, y'know."
"I'm sorry," Roy gasped, eyes tearing away from the road for only a second to stare at his sister incredulously. "Did you forget she was about to go for dinner with someone who isn't me?"
"Yeah I know that stupid," Molly scoffed, folding her arms back across her chest as she sunk into the seat of her brothers car. "But I did see the way she was looking at you - the way you were looking at each other - and I'm telling you, she likes you."
"Shut the fuck up." And that was that. Molly didn't need to tease Roy any further because she knew she'd hit a sore spot. Roy really liked you, and not that it mattered but Molly really liked you too - and Phoebe absolutely loved you - but Roy was still too scared to ask you out. That was punishment enough.
Phoebe hadn't seemed phased by the departure of her mum and uncle, and a part of you was thankful for that. Though you didn't really know anything about Phoebe's dad, apart from what you'd learnt in the past 10 minutes, you were surprised to see she'd bounced back pretty quickly.
"So pheeb's, you want dinner now, or in a little bit?" Throwing yourself next to the blonde on the sofa, she was quick to cuddle into your side, wrapping both her arms around your bigger one.
"Can we have dinner now, please." She whispered into the warm skin of your arm, her fingers scratching at the fabric of your dress.
"Of course we can sweetheart." You squeezed her in for a tight hug, before standing from the couch, quickly putting on the oven and pulling the turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles out of the freezer. You lingered in the doorway as you waited for Phoebe's dinner to cook, watching as she searched for a movie to put on while the two of you ate. She seemed so much more relaxed then when you first opened the door, and you hoped it's stay that way now she was here and safe. At the beeping of the oven, your turned away from her, plating the two of you some dinner and quickly returning to the sofa.
With a pile of dinner plates and ice cream bowls on your coffee table, and a movie minutes from ending, you turned to face Phoebe with a soft smile. Brushing back the hair that had fallen into her face, you gently woke the girl, telling her that it was time for bed now. Too sleepy to fully wake up, you picked Phoebe up, opting to carry her to your guest room instead. However, when you'd tucked her in and tried to leave, she'd gripped tightly onto your hand.
"Can you stay with me?" If her quiet and sleepy state didn't have you agreeing, the knowledge she was in an unfamiliar environment would've. Even though Phoebe had been in your house plenty of times now, she'd never stayed the night before, and it was easy to understand how that might freak her out - especially on top of the night she'd had.
"Yeah. Come on then." Instead of sleeping in the guest room, you picked Phoebe right back up, carrying her to your room and putting her down on the left side of your bed. Finally having the opportunity, you sat down at your desk, pulling out a packet of makeup wipes, and wiping off the eyeliner you'd worked so hard to get right. Even though your date never got to see it, Roy did, which was even better as far as you were concerned.
Just as you'd finished brushing your teeth, in fresh pyjamas, and making a mental note to buy a toothbrush for Phoebe next time you went to Tesco, you heard a shrill cry of 'mum.' Running back into your bedroom you found Phoebe wide awake with tears in her eyes, looking around in an urgent search for the woman she'd just cried out for.
"Hey, Pheeb's," you soothed, flicking the bedroom light back on before you approached her, not wanting to freak her out more. When she recognised your face past the haze of sleep, she was quick to reach out for you and you were quick to cross the room to meet her, pulling her into a hug and rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We're at my house remember, your mum and uncle Roy had to do some stuff so you're having a sleep over with me, okay?"
It took a good half an hour for Phoebe to fully calm down, but once she had, she was out cold again. This time, you lay in bed beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders to  make sure she knew she was safe. Before you went to sleep yourself, however, you sent Roy a text, leaving out the details of phoebes nightmare and just keeping him updated on things.
Phoebe's out cold so don't worry about picking her up until morning. Breakfast is at 8. There will be a plate for you and Molly whenever you get here xxx
You didn't wait see if he replied, and didn't worry yourself over if three x's at the end was too many, setting an alarm for 7am and putting your phone into do not disturb.
Thankfully, you beat Phoebe and your alarm to waking up, giving you a head start on making breakfast. If you knew anything, it was that kids loved sweet stuff, and given Phoebe's affinity for ice cream, you knew waffles were exactly what she needed this morning. Ted had given you a waffle machine as part of your present in last years Secret Santa and promised you you'd find a use for it eventually, and you were slightly surprised to find out he'd been right.
You got right to work on the batter recipe that came with the machine, letting Phoebe sleep in until the point you were ready to cook them. Though she'd been reluctant to wake up at first, at the mention of waffles and ice cream for breakfast, she sprang out of bed, hesitating in your hallway as she heard a knock at the door.
"You wait here while I get it, yeah pheeb's?" Phoebe nodded silently, creeping down the rest of the hallway so that she'd be able to hear who was at the door without being seen. Although you were 90% sure it was Roy and Molly on the other side of the door, you didn't want to risk anything.
Looking through your peep hole, your suspicions were proved right. "Good morning Roy, Molly." Phoebe came sprinting round the corner at the mention of her mums name, running right into her arms as you opened the door wider for her. "Waffles and Ice cream for breakfast, think we all deserve it, yeah?"
Molly mouthed a thank you at you as Phoebe directed her towards your couch, Roy allowing you to close your front door then following you to the kitchen.
The image of you, still sleepy and in your pyjamas, hair mused and making breakfast for him and the rest of his family, made his heart twist and his stomach churn. In some cruel twist of fate, everything he wanted was right in front of him but it wasn't that which he could call his.
"I know it's non of my business," you started, placing two scoops of mix into the two waffle shaped holes in the machine Ted had bought you then closing it, flipping it over, and scooping up another spoonful of mixture ready for when these ones were done. "But, is everything okay? Are Phoebe and Molly okay now?"
Why did you have to care about his family so much? Moments like this made Roy think you knew of his feelings for you, and that you were doing every thing you could to push him to tell you. Surely you had to care for him, at the least, not everyone would do what you did for him, and definitely not with the same level of enthusiasm and genuine happiness to do it.
"Yeah, everything's okay." Roy kept it short, knowing that ultimately, it wasn't his story to share. "Are you okay? I know we kind of ruined your plans last night."
"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I didn't even want to go?" The laugh that bubbled past your lips had a smile forming on Roy's face. He loved how easy it was between the two of you here. Sure, you made him smile and laugh at Nelson road all the time, but at Nelson road he felt like he had to be Roy Kent: here, he could just be Roy, Phoebe's uncle. And you really liked Roy, Phoebe's uncle.  "Besides, I had a better evening with Phoebe, and the 10 minutes I spent with you and Molly, then I would've had on the date anyway."
"How can you be so sure of that?" Roy's voice was even deeper then usual, not that you'd ever thought that was possible, from tiredness, and you'd only just noticed that he was still in his pyjamas, much like yourself. "That you wouldn't have enjoyed yourself?"
Roy leant over you, not noticing how blood rushed to your cheeks as he took the first two waffles out of the machine for you, allowing you to get the second lot started without hurting your fingers from picking up the fresh waffles. "My hearts not in it, you know?" You turned to press your back against the counter top, now chest to chest with Roy in the closest proximity you'd ever been. Neither of you made an effort to move. "The whole dating just to date isn't for me, I don't think. And if I'm going to date to, um, to marry someone, I'd much rather it be someone I know, someone who knows me."
You were worried you'd been a little too on the nose in your explanation, but Roy didn't seem to mind. He leant forward slightly so that he could rest his palms against your countertop, caging you in between his muscular arms. "Is that right?" You nodded silently, allowing your gaze to flicker down to his lips now that he was inches away from you. There was no way you were reading too much into things this time. "And, would that someone, would they have to be anyone in particular?"
"Yeah, yeah they would." You answered breathlessly, tilting your head back up so that your gaze would meet Roy's but instead brushing your nose softly against his.
Roy was finally going to do it.
A cry of your name and the padding of footsteps had Roy stepping away from you, Phoebe running into the kitchen with Molly hot on her tail. "Are the waffles ready?"
"You came at the perfect time!" You answered, brushing the moment off of you, and turning back to the slightly cooled waffles, sliding them down the counter towards Phoebe and Molly along with the ice cream scoop. As they plated up their waffles, you took yours and Roy's out of the machine, putting them onto plates and giving them time to cool before you added your ice cream on top. You watched intently as Molly and Phoebe plated up their food, your fingers drilling against the countertop in wait.
The second they'd left the kitchen and headed back to the living room, you turned to face Roy, leaving him no time to think as you grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed your lips to his. It was hot and messy, the two of you fighting to condense several months worth of building tension into one moment. At even the slightest of noises from outside the kitchen, you pulled away, turning your back to Roy immediately and scooping some ice cream onto your cooked waffle.
"Want ice cream on yours?" You asked Roy, turning to face him. His cheeks burned red and breathes heaved from his chest as though he'd just run a mile, his hair was a little more tousled then it had been when he first walked into your house and his lips were red and wet.
"Fuck the ice cream."
Roy grabbed you by your waist, twisting his fingers into the fabric of your sleep shirt to keep you close to him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. Roy's free hand moved up to caress your cheek, his other hand snaking around to rest on your lower back, pulling you even more into him. Moving one hand up to his hair, you kept the other on his shirt, keeping him close to you. While you'd imagined Roy to be a smooth kisser, you'd never imagined the day would come where he would actually be kissing you.
At a call of both your names from Phoebe, you broke apart once more, passing Roy his ice-cream-less waffle and pushing him out of your kitchen, taking full advantage of the fact that if he sat down first, you'd have no choice to to sit basically on top of him. You were sure he wouldn't mind.
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4. the time when Molly dropped Phoebe off instead
"And that's why the two of you need to get married."
Roy had been actively avoiding you since your kiss in the kitchen two weeks ago. And this was the 4th time in two weeks that Molly had asked if Phoebe could come over; two of them due to the fact both her and Roy were busy, and the other two being due to the fact Phoebe needed to have 'girl talk' with you. So far, girl talk had consisted of Phoebe listing reasons as to why you and Roy were perfect for each other.
"We're not going to get married, Pheeb's."
"But why not?" Phoebe dramatically collapsed into your sofa cushions, ignoring the fact her over the top tumble had knocked over one of your piles of folded washing in favour of going back to questioning you. "He talks about you all the time. And I see the way you look at him when he drops me off and picks me up."
"But he hasn't picked you up or dropped you off in two weeks sweetheart," you were back in the uncomfortable scenario of exposing something to a 7 year old, and you were trying your hardest not to let your confused feelings towards Roy interfere with what you wanted to say. "So, I don't think he wants to see me anymore. And that okay! But it also means we're not going to get married."
"But why not?"
"Phoebe." Your sterner tone had Phoebe sitting up right, her legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. Putting down the freshly washed t-shirt, you  knelt down in front of Phoebe, taking her hands in your own and squeezing gently. "It's not that simple, sweetheart," pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, she met your eyes. "I wish it was, but it is isn't. Me and your uncle Roy aren't going to get married, Pheeb's, but I'm sure he's going to find someone amazing someday, and you're going to love them."
"But I don't want him to find someone else amazing." Phoebe sulked, tears brimming at her eyes as she thought about a future without you and Roy together. While she was definitely thinking of the worst possible outcomes, the potential it could come true alone was enough to send her to tears. "I want him to find you! I don't want my uncle Roy to marry someone else because then I'll have to hang out with them and not you and- and- and-"
"C'mere." You pulled Phoebe fully into your arms, adjusting yourself so that you were both sat comfortably on your couch. "When your uncle Roy finds someone he loves, and he wants them to be a part of your life, I'll still be here. And you can always come and hang out with me, whenever you want. That isn't going to change Phoebe. I care about you a lot, okay?"
Phoebe couldn't find the words to express what she was thinking. She wanted to scream that you were the person her uncle Roy wanted be a part of her life, that you were the one he loved. Even though she was only 7 years old, she was certain that she knew what love was: and love was the way you and her uncle Roy had sat together, eating waffles for breakfast and talking with her mum, love was the way you and her uncle Roy talked about your day in a whisper over spy kids 4 because you wanted her to enjoy the movie still, love was the way it took her uncle Roy exactly 15 seconds to decide he wanted you to look after her on that Saturday 2 months ago. But she didn't know how to say all that in a way she could get you to understand. She'd tried everything and you still wouldn't digest the crumb of Roy's love that she was trying to explain to you, so she settled on the saying the best thing she could.
"Promise?"
"On my life." You ruffled her blonde hair, causing a smile to pull at her lips. You went back to folding your washing and Phoebe went back to watching her movie, like the two of you always did.
The peaceful moment was unfortunately interrupted by a loud and quick succession of knocks at your door. You put down the shirt you'd been folding and even Phoebe paused her show to come and see who was at the door.
"Jamie? Hi, what- what are you doing here?" Phoebe seemed to have some idea, walking past you to grab Jamie by the hand and pull him to sit on your sofa.
"I invited him." You had too many questions to counter that statement, mainly how she'd contacted Jamie and why he didn't bat an eye at being invited to your house by a 7 year old. "We need to discuss uncle's day."
Phoebe had told you about uncle's day - a day to celebrate her love for her uncle Roy - but you weren't entirely sure where you and Jamie fit into that puzzle. "Why do you need me and Jamie to discuss uncle's day, Hun. I don't think your uncle Roy would want either of us to celebrate uncles day with him."
"Of course he would!" Phoebe cried, pulling out her notebook and one of her felt tip pens, flicking to a blank page in her notebook and writing 'uncles day' at the top neatly. "Jamie is his best friend and Uncle Roy loves you, of course you've got to be there!"
Before you could remind Phoebe that you'd just had a conversation about why that wasn't the case, Jamie turned to face you with a wicked smile. "I knew you and Roy had something going on."
"We don't."
"Is that why he's been all moody at training for the last two weeks?" At your silence, Jamie took it that he was correct, a gasp slipping past his lips. "Did you turn him down? Of course it's okay if you did, but why?"
"No. I didn't turn him down." Phoebe's ears pricked up at that, making you realise exactly how what you were saying sounded. "I can't turn him down if he never asked me anything."
"But something happened?" Jamie pushed, leaning his elbows on his knees, Phoebe sat in a scarily mirrored image of him beside him.
"Fuck off." You scoffed, a smile curling onto Phoebe's lips. In the weeks you'd spent hanging out with her, she'd filled you in on every inside joke she shared with her uncle Roy and everything that made him the best uncle ever. "You can bill your uncle Roy for that one Pheeb's." Phoebe flicked back to the front of her notebook, adding a line to a very long list of tally's that had accumulated there.
Jamie tightened his gaze on you, readjusting his headband so that it kept his hair out of his eyes better. If it weren't for the unwavering, and slightly creepy, nature of his gaze, you were sure you would've just kept it to yourself.
"I kissed him." You'd attempted to mouth the words at the striker, but he hadn't picked them up, instead mouthing them to himself over and over again until he loud out a loud gasp, repeating the words out loud. Phoebe let out a squeal, jumping up and down on your couch cushions in complete and utter joy. An hour ago you'd told her you and her uncle Roy would never get married and know you were admitting that you'd kissed - things were coming up Phoebe, she'd decided. "But, he hasn't spoken to me since."
"Yeah, but that's what Roy's like, you know?" Jamie extended an arm to you, encouraging you to crash down in between him and Phoebe on the couch. You took him up on the offer, curling into his side and letting Phoebe curl into yours. "He's like, super mean and cold on the outside and once he lets you get to know him, he's all... all soft. And I don't think he knows it's okay to be soft sometimes." You let your head fall against Jamie's shoulder, Phoebe nodding beside you at Jamie's words. "I think you've got to show him it's okay for him to be all soft. Cause he really does care about you, I just don't think he knows how to tell you that."
"That was," you didn't even have the words for it. Somehow, Jamie had crawled inside your brain and soothed the exact source of your worry. "That was very insightful Jamie, thank you."
"No worries, I'm proper smart when I want to be me. Plus, when you spend so much time around the guy, it's hard not to see past that façade he puts up." Jamie removed his arm from around your shoulders, rubbing his together and then loudly clapping. "So, uncles day-"
You, Phoebe and Jamie spent the rest of the after noon feasting on whatever snacks they could find in your cupboards and planning out every little detail about uncles days. The pair had convinced you to make an appearance even if you and Roy hadn't reconciled come uncles day; Phoebe wanted you there and that was enough for you. By the time 5pm had rolled around you'd offered to get started on dinner for the 3 of you, but Jamie said he'd best be heading out and Phoebe reminded you her mum was picking her up soon enough anyway.
"Pheeb's, go and get your bag your mums here."  When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Roy on the other side of it, his hands shoved into his pockets and half facing away from you. "Oh Roy, hi, I didn't know you were picking Phoebe up."
"Me either," he grunted, staring intently at the floor as he let out a long sigh. Finally, he looked at you, shifting nervously under your gaze. He's practiced what he wanted to say at least 200 times on the way over; he knew Molly asking him to come pick Phoebe up was her pushing him to talk to you. All he wanted was to talk to you. But he was too scared of fucking things up and loosing you entirely that he'd resigned to the fact that he would just have to avoid you for the rest of his life. For once, Roy needed to just do it, to tell you how he felt and throw sensibility to the wind. If you liked him, and that kiss wasn't a heat of the moment thing, then great; if you wanted nothing to do with him? He'd figure it out. All he had to do now was-
"Jamie? What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Jesus, Roy, hello to you too." Jamie scoffed, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes then folding his arms across his chest. "I was just dropping off something for Keeley. Don't get all jealous on me old man, I'm not here to steal your missus." Jamie then turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively now his back was turned to Roy. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before running down your driveway, presumably to escape the clutches of a pissed of Roy. "See you later love, you too Phoebe!"
"Bye Jamie!" Phoebe shouted, waving enthusiastically at her new friend then turning to her uncle Roy with a frown. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."
"Bill me." He took Phoebe by the hand, taking her backpack in his other and walked away from your doorstep without so much as another word to you. Phoebe yelled a goodbye before she get in Roy's car but Roy continued to ignore you, even as you waited on your doorstep to wave them one last goodbye.
Roy spent the whole drive back to molly's and the rest of the evening absolutely kicking himself. Part of him wished he'd just come out and said it while he had you alone on your doorstep, but the worse part of him - the part that didn't believe he was worthy of you - told him Jamie being there was a sign it wasn't the right moment. And maybe, he thought, the right moment would never come.
Jamie was right. You were going to have to be the one to show Roy it was okay to be soft; especially with you.
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5. the time where Roy told you how he felt
Phoebe had kicked up a fuss when she found out she was going to have to spend the night at her uncle Roy's, which was a massive surprise to everyone involved. It was well known that Phoebe loved spending time with her uncle Roy, and no matter what Molly or Roy said to her, they couldn't get a confession out of her as to why she didn't want to sleep at her uncle Roy's tonight.
When Molly had dropped her off, for the first time in years, Phoebe cried at the though of her mum going to work, and that told Roy enough that he was in for an eventful night.
He'd tried absolutely everything. He'd offered pizza, turkey dinosaurs, spaghetti, ice cream, popcorn and every favourite food she'd ever had in an attempt to wipe that frown off of her face, but nothing had worked. He'd even willingly been the princess in princess and dragons, put on a fucking tiara and tutu and she still didn't budge from her place on his couch. When bed time finally rolled around, he'd spent 6 hours in silence with Phoebe, a frown etched onto her poor, little face that all he wanted to do was turn into a smile.
The first sound he got out of Phoebe all day was a loud and shrill cry of your name at 4am. Roy ran for the first time in months from his bedroom to hers, terrified as to what could have his niece crying out for you in the early house of the morning. When he arrived on the scene, he was met with Phoebe sat upright in her bed, tears spilling down her cheeks and her hair sticking up in every direction. Her tiny fingers were death gripping a teddy bear that Roy had bought her when she was a baby and when she saw Roy in her doorway, her sobs only got louder.
Roy was quick to cross the length of the room, scooping his niece into his arms and holding her tightly against him, whispering soothing words into the crown of her head and running his fingers up and down her arm. Usually, this method would have Phoebe back asleep within half an hour, but as the clock pushed closer to 5am then 4am, he knew things were different this time. With each sob came a long pause, filled with shaking of shoulders and sniffles galore, and the occasional whimper of your name. Whatever had upset her, clearly wasn't going to be fixed with the usual uncle Roy remedy, and so Roy picked Phoebe up, slipping on his slippers and walking out his front door with his car keys in hand.
While the drive to your house had never been quick, it felt even longer then usual today. Phoebe spent the whole drive over still sniffling, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, the ache it caused in Roy's heart made it feel like they'd never stopped. In his whole life, he'd only seen phoebe this inconsolable a handful of times, and even then, she'd always been responsive to his attempts to find out what was wrong. The fact she kept calling out your name amidst her tears made his heart ache all the more.
It was no secret that since he first dropped phoebe off at your house all those weeks ago, the two of you had become practically attached at the hip. He loved phoebe, and as much as he tried to deny it, he loved you, and he loved that two of the most important women in his life loved each other, but he didn't think he was ever going to be brave enough to let you in in the way the he wanted to. Phoebe had happily voiced her opinions on the matter the last time he'd picked her up from your house, happily proclaiming that the two of you needed to get married yesterday and live happily ever after with 2 dogs and a family trip to Disney world. Roy had told her the two of you weren't going to get married and Phoebe had scoffed, saying that you'd said the exact same thing and she didn't understand why when you loved each other.
If he wasn't so distracted by how distraught Phoebe seemed, he'd have maybe taken the time to consider this was some wicked scheme she'd concocted.
When he pulled up outside your house, like he expected for 5am, all your lights were off, but with a still teary-eyed phoebe in his arms, he didn't think twice about knocking on your door with enough vigour you'd think his life depended on it. As far as Roy was concerned, it did.
Once he saw your hallway light flicker on, he let out a sigh of relief, a weight being lifted from his shoulders as you approached the door. The soft glow of the hallway light far behind you made you look more like the Angel Roy thought you were, your hands wiping at your eyes as you tried to wake up. Before you could ask what was going on, or why Roy and Phoebe were on your doorstep so early on this summers morning, Phoebe was throwing herself from Roy's arms with a cry of your name, blubbering into you shoulder the most words she'd said in the past 12 hours. "I had a nightmare."
In that moment as Roy watched you take his niece into your arms and comfort her more in 10 seconds then he had seemed to be able to do in an hour, he knew Phoebe was right that day in the car.
He was in love with you, and he was pretty sure you were in love with him too.
Roy closed your front door behind him, following behind you as you carried phoebe towards your bedroom. He couldn't hear what you were saying to her, but he could see how easily she relaxed in your hold - it made him relax knowing that whatever had plagued her nightmares was being calmed, even if it wasn't by him.
As you finally entered your bedroom, your bedsheets tousled from when you'd got up to answer the door minutes ago, Phoebe had dropped back to sleep in your arms. You weren't entirely sure if it was your words that had sent her back to sleep or if she'd tired herself out from crying so much, but you didn't dwell on it, tucking her into your bed and pressing a kiss to her head. Turning around, you found Roy leaning against your doorframe, the tight, grey shirt not leaving much to the imagination as to what was underneath it. Taking him by the hand, you pulled him back down your hallway and into your kitchen, leaving him in the doorway, you clicked the kettle on and pulled two large mugs out of your cupboard.
"Can't believe you got her talking." Roy whispered, suddenly very conscious of the fact it was 5:30 in the morning and you were no where near awake as he was. "I couldn't get a word out of her, except your fucking name."
You nodded as he spoke, putting a tea bag into each before and then, when the kettle had whistled and clicked, filling them 3/4 full of hot water. "So, she didn't tell you what her nightmare was about?"
"Wasn't even entirely sure it was just a nightmare until I heard her say it here."
"She thinks you're not going to let her see me anymore if you marry someone else." You'd both heard tearful stories from Phoebe about how scared she was that you two weren't talking anymore, but you'd never realised just how much it was affecting her. "I've talked to her about it before, you know, promised her I'd always be apart of her life even when you found someone you were going to marry, but I didn't think it was stressing her out this bad."
Roy didn't take a sip of his coffee when you passed it to him, instead looking at you confused while you took a long sip of yours. "What makes you think I'm going to marry someone else?"
"Well, you know what I mean Roy." You took another long sip of coffee, waking up more and more with each drink. "We're not going to get married, and I don't want phoebe thinking that you're not allowed to live your life and keep me in it."
"Why are we not getting married?" Roy's question had you stuttering and stumbling to try and make a sensible and coherent answer. It was one thing for him to show up at the crack of dawn and speak to you for the first time in weeks. It was another for him to now be suggesting he wanted to marry you. "I'm not sure if you realised, but I don't just go around introducing Phoebe and Molly to everyone... and I don't go around kissing just anyone either."
"Well, that's rich," you scoffed, using both hands to bring the warmth of your coffee closer to your face. "I'm not sure if you realised, but a normal person doesn't kiss someone like that, and then go no contact with them for nearly a month."
"Kiss someone like that, huh." Roy placed his untouched coffee down on your kitchen counter and took two steps closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he was now right in front of you. Though when you thought on it, he always had been. "And what exactly does that mean." Roy let his thumbs run over the exposed skin between your T-shirt and your pyjama shorts, the gentle motion sending tingles down your spine and causing you to arch yourself slightly into him. The smirk that formed on his face told you things were playing out how he wanted.
"You know," you whispered, letting Roy take your coffee cup from your hands and place it beside you on the counter. "Like," he gently cradled your hands in his larger ones, moving them to rest on his shoulders becket letting his fall back to your hips. "Like you want to be with them, like you-"
Roy cut your words off by pressing his lips to yours, using the momentum of his movement to tilt your head back, allowing him to get a better angle as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Quickly, you pushed him off of you, not giving him the chance to get a word in edge ways before you began to speak. "You can't keep kissing me like that, or at all actually, if you don't want this, us, whatever we are, to become something. Because I want it to become something." Jamie's words echoed though your head. Maybe you had to be the one to show Roy that it was okay to be soft sometimes, to let people in.
"I love how kind you are beneath all the gruff and cold exterior you try to put up. I love how fiercely you love Molly and Phoebe. I love how you leave little sticky notes on my office door so I don't forget to do things. I love how you bring me coffee in the mornings when you get your own. I love that you buy me lunch and get all grumpy when someone else tries to add on to the order." Sweeping your thumb across the middle of his brown, you brushed away the tension that had clearly been building there since the moment you'd pushed away from his kiss. "I love how your face gets all scrunched up when your confused and how you have the most wonderful smile I've ever seen but only let the people you love get a glimpse at it. I- I love you, Roy, but I can't handle you liking me one minute and ignoring me the next. I need you to open up to me about what's going on inside you head."
Roy pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving one hand up to cradle your face. If his heart wasn't already so full of you, it would've been now. Even though he'd known he was in love with you before this conversation in your kitchen, it had really consolidated to him why he was in love with you. You loved Roy Kent, Phoebe's uncle, lunch buyer and wonderful smiler.
"I've never been told I have a wonderful smile before." He pressed another kiss though this time it was to your temple, and the another to the end of your brow. "That's probably because you're right, I only show it to the people I love." Another kiss was pressed just below your eye, the scratchiness of his beard against your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you. "And I really fucking love you."
Roy leaned in for another, proper, kiss, though you dodged it allowing it to land on your cheek instead. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"
Roy let out a loud groan, your head thrown back in laughter at the image before you. He shook his head at you though the wide and bright smile you loved never left his face. "I'm sorry I ignored you for 3 and a half weeks because I was a grumpy sod who couldn't talk about his feelings like a fucking grown up."
You hummed happily, nudging your nose against his, a smile now curled onto your own lips. "Yeah, that'll do just nice." Standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped both your arms around his neck, pulling the two of you together. "Now, C'mere."
Roy happily complied, pressing his lips firmly to your own in a mess of groans and tongue, only pulling apart when you couldn't contain your smile any longer. Even then, he pressed a series of quick kisses to your lips moving them up across your cheek, along the tip of your ear and then down the side of your neck. You tilted your head to rest against his left shoulder, giving him better access to the right side of your neck, but before things could escalate any further, you gently pushed him away from you. "Phoebe is a room away."
"You've got a guest bedroom though, right?" Roy purred, resuming his attack on your neck, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin sending shivers down your spine.
"She'll be up in an hour or so." You tried to deter Roy further although you didn't particularly have your heart in it, wanting more then anything to continue what you'd started now that the pair of you had everything out in the open.
"I can do a lot in half that time." He countered, his grip on you tightening a fraction and the kisses he was pressing against your neck now having scrapes of teeth to them.
Grabbing Roy by the chin, you turned him to face you, pressing a soft and slow kiss to his lips. "Please, with what I've got in mind, it's going to take at least twice the time we have." You revelled in the look of pleasant surprise that crossed Roy's features, pressing another kiss to his lips. Now that that was something you could do whenever you wanted, you weren't sure you were ever going to stop; he was just so kissable. "Want to help me make breakfast?"
"Where do you need me?"
You and Roy danced seamlessly around each other as you prepared breakfast for the two of you and Phoebe, sneaking kisses between exchanges of ingredients or just because you could. When things were nearly ready and it was just past 7am, you went to wake Phoebe up, careful not to startle her after the long night she'd had. Since you hadn't discussed with Roy anything about you telling Phoebe, you didn't mention it, letting her sandwich herself between the two of you as you ate breakfast together over reruns of adventure time.
Part of you couldn't believe that everything had pretty much worked out how you wanted it. Sure, it wasn't a nice feeling when Roy left you in the dark after sweeping you off your feet, but ultimately, the two of you were together, and with Phoebe snuggled between the two of you on your couch, you had a glimpse of the domestic life you'd dreamed of.
Roy was thinking something similar, looking at you and phoebe beside him. Something so simple as eating breakfast together had him dreaming of a future, that a few months ago, he never would've thought would be within his grasp. He could already picture a scene like this but with you slightly older, and still as beautiful as ever, two kids snuggled between you and a dog or 3 curled up at his feet. He hoped one day the image would be as real as the one before him right now.
"Shit, what time is it?"
"8am."
"We need to get going soon." Both you and Phoebe turned to Roy in confusion, heads similarly tilted in a way that had him fawning over the both of you. "Your mum is picking you up at 9am and you need to be dressed and ready to go, Pheeb's."
"Tell Molly to pick her up from here," you said, taking Phoebe's empty plate and stacking it on top of your own. Placing them both down on the coffee table, you turned to Phoebe with a soft smile. "There T-shirts, jeans and some shoes in my wardrobe, next to where I keep your pj's, yeah? And you know where your tooth brush is, don't you?" Phoebe nodded her head, still chewing her food, but with a kissed pressed to her temple, she was sprinting off in the direction your bedroom.
"You have day clothes here for phoebe? As well as pyjamas?" Roy whispered, a bright smile forming on his face for the millionth time this morning. This was a sight you were never going to get sick of.
"Yeah. I picked the day clothes up when you asked me to pick her up from school the first time, and then after you and Molly took her home after she slept over, I figured it couldn't hurt to also get a tooth brush and some other stuff. Just incase she ever needed them."
You'd never seen so much love and adoration in one persons eyes. "I fucking love you, did you know?"
Before you could respond, the padding of feet all the way down your hallway and across your living room filled your ears. "So you are getting Married?"
a/n : if you made it this far hello!! thank you for reading my first ted lasso fic, feel free to leave feedback and/or send in a request to my inbox!! much love <33 mwah
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endless-ineffabilities · 10 months
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sapphire-hearted (part one)
Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
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The start to an angst-ridden little story, wherein the reader, Aemond's dearest friend (and clandestine love) learns of his apparent new paramour, Alys.
themes/warnings: angst, jealousy, fwb type situation, Aemond is kind of a clueless twat
part two ▪︎ part three ▪︎ masterlist
edit(!): this oneshot seems to have taken a life of its own, like most of my fics, quite unexpectedly! I've changed the title from (sapphire) blue heart to sapphire-hearted, and part two will be out in a few hours! is out now!
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"Why do you not look at me?" He gently pries your face towards him with his free hand, as you both lie naked on his sheets, his arm wrapped around you. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing, Aem." You shake your head, letting his hand fall.
He takes one deep breath. He knows you like the back of his hand; he knows something isn't right.
"You're not fooling me, gevie." Beautiful, he calls you, as you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. You feel the cold air on your back, and then, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin.
Gevie. You wonder if he calls Alys the same. After their rumoured trysts. After she is seen leaving his bedchambers. Has she lain among these very sheets herself, where you are now?
You and Aemond were not together, no. You were not betrothed. Your House was too lowly to allow you to wed a Targaryen prince. But he had said he was yours. Just yours.
How has that changed so quickly?
"Speak to me," he pleads. He sits up behind you, kissing the back of your neck. "You know I have my methods of making you do so. Shall I employ them?" You can hear the amusement in his voice, the assuredness.
You thought you loved it more than anything, but now it feels like some cruel jest.
You turn to face him directly. "Is she better than me?"
He leans back, fully aware of who you mean. "Hmm," he purses his lips. "Jealousy does not become you, it seems."
"I'm glad you think me amusing." You bite back, looking away.
"This is amusing. How can you be jealous of her?"
You aren't sure what to make of that question. Is he mocking you, and the justification of your envy? Who are you to him anyway? Just a friend, no?
"Aemond. I thought... that we..."
"You know what we are. How we are. Isn't it enough?"
"Not if I have to share you with some witch!" you rise from his bed, and wrap your cloak around yourself. "I've turned down the finest suitors, simply because you wished me to. Simply because you were jealous. Don't you think you owe me the same courtesy?"
His voice is colder when he responds, "What do you think I am doing with Alys, hmm? Do you think I enjoy having her grace my bedchambers, and have her clawing at me?" He stands too, towering over your stature. "I have never wanted to bed anyone other than you. What I am doing with her... what I have to do with her... It is for the good of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Spare me, Aemond." You swat his hands away, when he reaches for your arms. "Don't..." He tries again, much quicker this time, and he holds your forearms tightly against his bare chest.
"She has magic." There is a wild look in his eye when he says this, and it makes you uneasy. "She sees things, Alys. She can predict what the enemy's next move is, where they'll be. What I am doing with her, lying with her, is but a small price to pay."
"What if you don't lie with her? You don't have to..."
"She asks me to."
"You don't have to. You're the prince! She answers to you, not the other way around."
"I refused, of course, in the beginning." He holds your face gently in his hands now, trying to make you understand. "That did no good. She gave me nothing. I could have her tortured. But this will only serve to distance her even more from our cause."
"So, to get what you want... to hear her incredible visions and benefit from her magical spells, you have to fuck her? Very astute of you, Aemond."
"Careful, my love." He tilts his head, trying to work through your anger.
You use your palms on his chest to push him away. He only stumbles a little, the faint sound of his low growl reaching your ears.
"You know what I'll do?" you threaten, your cloak falling back to the floor as you wave your arms dramatically. "The next dashing Lord that asks for my hand, I'll take. It could be Lord Manderly's son or... Lord Beesbury's eldest boy has made an offer, too. I'll wed him, whoever he is, why not? Even if I don't love him, it will only be a small price to pay," you sneer, mirroring his words from before. "It is what's expected of me, after all. It is for the good of my House."
Aemond's jaw clenches in his rage. "Then I shall have him captured and quartered to pieces in the dungeons before he can even get the chance to - "
"No," you shake your head at his nonsense. "No, you would not. You would not do something like that to me. How would that be fair? You and I, we'll never marry. As it stands, you'd sooner wed your witch than I."
"I would marry you in a heartbeat." He moves closer now, desperation creeping in his voice. His lips meet yours in a haste. Wet and demanding. When you turn your head, he only continues kissing the side of your face. Then he stops, pressing his forehead to your temple. "You know this, my love. You have to know this. Alys is nothing compared to you. Without her, I might lose the war. But without you... I lose myself."
You nearly cave in at that, as you always do when it comes to Aemond. But now, you remind yourself to stand your ground.
"Then prove it to me," you whisper, and a stray tear falls down your cheek. "Do as I ask. Stop being with her."
Seconds pass. Aemond's mind races at the possible outcomes. His heart aches at the sight of your sadness, but he feels compelled to think of other things too.
The war. Defeating the Blacks. Easily gaining the upper hand through dark magic.
At the end of it all - and if he does what he does, it should all end very soon - he will still have you. He's sure of it.
You will always come back to him. You will understand.
"I cannot," he says, his words striking through your heart.
You feel numb all over, but you force yourself to step away from him, and hurriedly put your dress back on.
"My love, please..." He watches helplessly as you tie the strings of your skirts, preparing to leave.
"My prince," you cursty, when you've managed to put yourself together. "I am not certain when, but you're invited to honour us with your presence at my coming marriage ceremony."
"I'd sooner command Vhagar to burn Westeros to ashes."
"You mean, you'd sooner bask in the pleasures that only your witch can offer?" you laugh mirthlessly. "Of course."
You start walking away, determinedly. Ice has flooded your veins and your heart, turning you cold and blue. But you press on. The pain will have to wait for later.
"You'll come back to me," he calls after you.
"Oh, I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you."
You slam the door behind you.
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Angst!!! We all need this sometimes. I swear it riles me up so good, I almost wonder if something's messed up with my romantic ideals ....
.... who are we kidding? Of course there is. Because I would marry our one-eyed Vhagar-riding war terrorist in a heartbeat.
taglist open for an upcoming part!
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chelseeebe · 3 months
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everything has changed
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you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.
i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition
18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe
‎♡‧₊˚
“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.
“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”
steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.
-
life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.
it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.
you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.
and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.
steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.
he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.
“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.
he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.
“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.
“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.
robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.
-
they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.
steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.
she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.
“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.
she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.
robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.
it’s you.
the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.
“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.
“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.
you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.
“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.
you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.
“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.
“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.
“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.
“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.
“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.
“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.
he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.
your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.
plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.
steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.
he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”
he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.
“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.
you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”
steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.
“no!” they chime in unison.
“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.
“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.
“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.
he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.
“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.
you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.
there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.
especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.
he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.
and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.
fuck.
-
steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.
you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.
“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.
you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.
“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.
it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.
“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.
“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.
you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”
he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.
“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.
“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.
“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.
“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”
you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.
“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.
his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.
“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.
“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.
you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.
as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.
“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.
that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.
“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.
“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.
he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.
you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.
“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.
“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.
you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.
the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.
katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.
“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.
katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.
“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?
he can’t decide.
“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.
he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.
“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.
“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.
“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.
they really don’t.
in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.
the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.
everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.
steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.
“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.
“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.
you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.
“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.
sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.
like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.
“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.
“of course,” returning the smile.
he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.
-
it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.
she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?
“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.
you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.
“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.
“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.
you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.
that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.
“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.
you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.
there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.
not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.
“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.
“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.
you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.
-
except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.
you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.
“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.
steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”
“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.
“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.
“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.
he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”
the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.
“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.
“absolutely.”
-
there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.
you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.
maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.
“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.
there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.
steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.
“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.
“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.
“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.
you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.
its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.
“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”
he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.
he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.
studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.
you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.
two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.
you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.
steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.
he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.
he’s not sure it ever will again.
fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.
he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.
katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.
it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.
steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.
she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.
it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.
nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.
“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.
“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”
katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.
“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.
“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?
unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.
“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.
he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.
“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”
steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?
he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.
there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.
at least now.
-
steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.
“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.
“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”
“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”
“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.
“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”
“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”
steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.
“..yeah.”
“well there you go!” she shrieks.
“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.
“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.
“well it felt right.”
the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”
“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”
she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”
he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?
“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.
“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.
he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.
his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.
it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.
-
steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.
no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.
you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.
there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.
they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.
but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.
“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.
“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.
“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.
he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.
steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.
you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.
he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.
your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.
“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.
he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.
his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.
in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.
there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.
“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.
steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.
you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.
-
he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.
a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.
he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.
she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.
steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.
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xxsabitoxx · 11 months
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How the Pillars react to your death
Important note: all of these deaths occur during the infinity castle arc, heavy and implied spoilers. Rengoku’s reaction to your death takes place before Mugen Train! Reader’s gender is unspecified.
Warnings: this post contains spoilers for the final arc of the manga. This includes implied spoilers for various characters. Please do not read this if you don’t want to be spoiled and don’t blame me if you go ahead and read it anyways lol
A/N: I wrote this whole post in my head while showering last night and I’m honestly offended it took me 3x as long to actually write it.
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Giyu 
“CAWWW! DEAD! KOCHO SHINOBU AND L/N Y/N ARE DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!” Giyu’s body comes to a screeching halt, Tanjiro shooting past him before falling to his knees as violent sobs wracked his body. Giyu, on the other hand, is frozen in place, a sob stuck in his throat. Shinobu’s death was a punch to the gut, but you? For the first time since Sabito had died, Giyu felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. Yet, nothing would come out, those tears wouldn’t break the barrier and slip down his cheeks. His tight throat would not let the sob escape. There was no possible way you were gone, you promised him you’d be okay. Though, childish beliefs like that reminded him of his own faults. Once again, he couldn’t protect the people he cared about. Rather than wallowing in sudden grief, he began moving again, past Tanjiro who was struggling to get back up. He needed to keep moving, if he didn’t stop, he was certain he would collapse entirely and never get up again. He couldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste. 
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Shinobu 
Her feet barely hit the ground, body manoeuvring through the endless castle with one destination in mind. “CAWWW! DEAD! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING UPPER MOON TWO!” She stumbles, shock hitting her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Her mind is racing, not willing to believe what the crow had just said to be true. You had steered away from the plan. In a desperate attempt to save Shinobu’s life you tried to defeat Upper Two yourself. Hot, angry tears are spilling down her cheeks, hand clutching her heart as she tries to understand. “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you take my word for it and go with Tomioka? Look what you did… you went and got yourself killed,” Yet again, Upper Two had taken something precious to her. One word flashed through her mind, alongside your beautiful face. Revenge. She would get her revenge, not only for Kanae, but for you. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be with you soon.” 
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Rengoku 
It’s quiet, too quiet even. You should be back by now, the sun has fully risen. Kyojuro’s heart is hammering in his chest, doom creeping up his spine. He has an unshakable bad feeling about your late arrival. His worst fears are confirmed when your crow arrives without you. “No…” breathless, as if all the air is being ripped from his lungs. “Don’t say it…” his knees are giving out as your crow lands on the wooden porch. “T-they’re gone…aren’t they?” he chokes it out, the words are as bitter and burning as bile. Your crow only caws, soft and full of sorrow, unable to share the proper message as Kyojuro begins to sob. He’s curling in on himself, crying so loudly but unable to hear it due to the intensity of the ringing in his ears. It’s a panic attack manifesting in the most intense form. He can’t fathom a world without you, nevermind having to live in one. Senjuro is rushing to his brother's aid, seeing your crow gives him more than enough information to know as tears well in his eyes. 
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Tengen
He’s kneeling dutifully outside of Nezuko’s room, Shinjuro by his side. His wives are inside, too stubborn to sit out and not help at all. Their excuse being that Nezuko saved his life, they owe her the same kind of protection now. You on the other hand, were too determined, leaving your retirement to fight the battle against the demon lord himself. Nothing Tengen nor his wives said could convince you to stay on the sidelines. His heart is sinking the moment your crow appears in the distance, he’d recognize it anywhere. “N-no… don’t you dare…” Tengen’s voice is cracking as it lands, Shinjuro is turning his head the other way, knowing what is to come. “Don’t you dare say they are dead…” his voice is rising in his panic, he knows the answer. The commotion has Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru running outside. The moment Hina’s eyes land on your crow, a violent sob escapes her chest, falling to her knees as Makio and Suma come to the same conclusion. “T-they’re dead…aren’t they?!” Makio sobs, Tengen can’t raise his head as your crow delivers your final message. 
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Mitsuri 
She’s frozen in place as a crow comes directly for her, fear is ebbing through her body, a cold sweat forming on her brow. She knows the message before the crow can even utter it. “No! Go back! I don’t want to hear it!” Obanai is frozen beside her, grabbing her arm so she doesn’t collapse. The crow circles around her, cawing woefully as she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me!” she’s hiccupping as Obanai tries to pull her forward, they need to keep moving. “Mitsuri…” his voice is surprisingly soft, the crow is still circling overhead. “We need to hear the message…” she shakes her head, hands coming up to cover her ears as tears slip down her cheeks. The crow caws again, Obanai signals for it to deliver the message. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON ONE!” The crow continued on about who lived and who died, what was important is that upper moon one was dead. That didn’t matter to her though, no she couldn’t even hear the rest of the message over the ringing in her years. Mitsuri let Obanai tug her along, they needed to keep moving at whatever the cost. 
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Muichiro 
“CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” He keeps running, uncertain as to why he feels a tightness in his chest at the crow’s message. “THEY DIED DURING A CONFLICT WITH UPPER TWO!” He’s still moving, more so concerned over his unexpected and overwhelming sadness. Why am I sad? I don’t even remember that name… but then your kind smile is flashing before his eyes and the world is crashing down around him. He comes to a screeching halt, eyes wide as he finally pieces together the message. “y/n…” how could he ever forget? Before he realizes it, he’s sniffling. Tears blur his vision for a moment before he blinks them away. He begins to move again, the sadness gripping his chest is slowly fading, fading until he can’t even remember why he got teary eyed in the first place. He needs to remember the task at hand… where was he heading again? 
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Obanai
The flapping of wings catches him off guard, head craning upwards as the crow begins to caw. The noise is full of sorrow, which can only mean it bears bad news. “Obanai…” Mitsuri is watching the animal circle above them, her heart pounding erratically at the endless possibilities of the message it may share. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED IN BATTLE AGAINST UPPER MOON ONE!” Obanai’s feet are slowing, hitting the floor beneath him with a little too much force as the message rings through his head over and over. “N-no… oh… Iguro I…” Mitsuri is crying, staring at the man beside her as the world seems to cave in on him. It’s as if everything is in slow motion for a few beats in time. The words the crow uttered felt foreign, your name paired with ‘dead’ didn’t make any sense in his mind. It was impossible really, there was no way you were dead. You had gone to face Upper One with Gyomei, Sanemi, Muichiro… four hashira against upper One and you didn’t make it? You were so strong… no the message can’t be correct. “Kanroji… let’s keep moving.” he’s turning it off, every swelling emotion is being suppressed as he takes off again. Mitsuri is left with no choice but to wipe her tears and follow. 
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Sanemi
Upper Moon One is standing before him, Gyomei at his side. This battle needed to be won, if not, everything would be lost. The demon before him needed to be put down, there was no other option. He’s talking, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. Rather, Sanemi is gauging every vital point he can strike and how to go about doing it. “CAWW! I BRING A MESSAGE!” he doesn’t glace up, nothing that crow could say would be able to break his focus. “L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” except for that. Sanemi inhales deeply, eyes widening significantly as he debates on if he heard the message correctly. “THEY DIED DURING AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO! UPPER MOON TWO IS NOW DEAD!” it feels as if all the air in the room had been sucked away with the crow’s flapping wings. Upper One no longer seemed smug about the message after the addition of Upper Two being defeated. Beside him, Gyomei is crying. Sanemi doesn’t realize it, but so is he. He’s oblivious to the hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Still, his patience remains intact, waiting for Gyomei’s signal to attack the high ranked demon. Now, he has absolutely nothing to lose. Kagaya is gone, now you are gone, it is likely the rest of the Hashira wouldn’t make it out of this… he has nothing left to fight for. 
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Gyomei “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING MUZAN!” Tears flow freely as he fights, part of him wishes he hadn’t been able to hear the message in the first place. You had met the unfortunate fate of encountering Muzan himself. It was likely that you were alone, if you weren’t, you were likely the strongest in your group. It pained him, knowing you likely died a brutal death. That pain fueled his attacks, taking every ounce of heartbreak and despair out on the demon before him. You didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved a fate that cruel. He keeps moving, mind reeling yet completely focused. It’s as if he is fighting in a bubble, the world muffled around him yet perfectly clear all at once. Too many emotions are raging through his soul to really pinpoint just one of them. He can only hope you’ll wait for him on the other side, he can only pray you’re watching over him at this very moment. Guiding him, giving him strength. “I’ll meet you again soon, don’t worry. I promise I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Wait for me, please? You will, won’t you?”
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