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criminalamnesia · 3 days

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Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

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gojoest · 2 days

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FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #tw children

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pellucid-constellations · 2 days

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I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?”

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?”

“Not particularly.”

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn.

The third sigh was your breaking point.

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?”

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.”

“Oh, well in that case—”

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily.

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?”

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.”

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind.

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…”

Mor trailed off.

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?”

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.”

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—”

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.”

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap.

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault.

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you.

But it was this.

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been.

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.”

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence.

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door.

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock.

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that.

“Hi.”

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes.

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be.

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…”

“No, I—Come in.”

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room.

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked.

Something inside of you hurt.

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.”

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched.

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.”

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n. I care about you more than anything—I love you.”

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?”

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?”

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin.

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—”

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—”

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.”

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—”

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair.

Gods, you missed him.

You missed him and everything hurt.

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change.

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.”

“You can, angel.”

“I need to know that you love me.”

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze.

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.”

“I love you.”

"I know you do, Az. I know."

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel x y/n

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prael · 23 hours

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Phonecalls

Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia

IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut

words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist

Happy Gaeul day!

Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’

A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.

She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.

There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.

Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.

"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.

"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.

"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."

"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."

Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"

"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.

"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.

"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"

"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"

Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships.

She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.

That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.

"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."

She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."

"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."

"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."

"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."

"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"

"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.

"You know where I get my fun."

"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.

The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.

"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.

"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.

"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.

"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."

"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.

"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.

"And what did he pick?"

"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.

"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."

"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.

"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."

"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.

"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."

"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.

"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.

There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."

"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.

"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."

"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.

"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."

You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."

"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."

"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.

"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."

"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."

"Let's hear it," you urged.

"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.

"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"

Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."

"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.

"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.

"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."

"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.

"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."

"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.

"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.

"I hope not."

"You wanna know what's funny?"

"Tell me," you plead to her.

"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."

You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.

"Not funny?" she asks.

"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."

"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.

"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."

"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"

"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"

"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.

"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"

"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.

"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."

"Then?" you prod her on.

"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."

"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.

"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.

You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.

"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."

You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"

"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.

"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.

Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.

"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...

"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.

It's an amazing fucking image.

"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."

You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.

"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."

"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."

"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."

You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."

"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.

You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.

"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."

"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.

"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.

"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.

#kinktember #kpop smut #Gaeul smut #kpop fanfic #smut #Gaeul x reader #vicarphilia #IVE smut #m reader #f reader #male reader #gender neutral reader #female reader

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eternalbuckley · 2 days

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Together. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: Aemond and you still love each other even if you weren't together anymore. So what happens if you're hanging out with your shared group friends and he invites you to a drink in his apartment? You might end up tangled with each other in his bed and talk about your feelings the next morning.

word count: 5,658

genre: slight angst with fluff, smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, 18+ MDNI!! NSFW (this part is divided with dividers so you can skip the actual smut part if you want), p in v sex, no use of protection (wrap it up folks thanks), cunnilingus, creampie (again, use protection), descriptions of alcohol use, mention of tipsy reader and aemond, slight cursing, use of they pronoun once, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: it's my first time writing p in v smut, so please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! this entire fanfic turned out to be the longest piece i've ever written lmao.i hope you'll enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ navigation | hotd masterlist | add yourself to my taglist

The breakup between Aemond and you was mutually decided. Both of you were quite busy with your jobs and barely had time for each other anymore, which ended in a lot of arguments. Many of them were based on miscommunication or if anyone of you felt like the other one wasn’t giving them enough attention and love. This was the reason why you both mutually decided to break up after you’ve been together for a few years, both of you thinking it was the best decision during this time.

You still loved and cared for each other, but it wasn’t the right time to be with each other, as each one of you had a stressful period of your life, and the constant arguments outweighed most of the soft moments between you. You tried to be each other’s support, but it ended up in the opposite way during this time. It was clear, to everyone who knew you, that you two were still longing for each other over the months since you broke up. You tried dating other people in hopes you could fill the void that has been there ever since you parted ways, but it didn’t work out for either of you.

Aemond and you shared the same group of friends, or at least shared a few friends that hang out together every two to three weeks. Two times you and Aemond invited the people you were seeing to hang out with your friends. Meaning you and him would see each other as well. This didn’t work out quite well because the people you were seeing noticed how you and Aemond constantly looked in each other’s direction. They quickly realized that neither Aemond nor you stopped loving one another or knew that you still had some sort of feelings for the other one, even if you both tried to ignore or deny it, you knew the truth.

Your friends noticed this longing dynamic between you two ever since you told them that you decided to part ways for now. No one could say that they didn’t see the longing stares both of you had whenever the other one wasn’t looking, or the gentle touches you had on each other from time to time that were just lingering quite too long for friends.

Many times, Aemond would ask his sister, Helaena, who was one of your closest friends, if you had already found someone else or how you were doing. Especially if he noticed that you seemed off one day you and your friends hung out, he’d immediately try to find a moment to get to text or talk to Helaena alone and ask her about it. If she was able to tell him something, she would give him a few details. And you would do the same if you noticed something different about him and asked Helaena most of the time. Sometimes you would go to Aegon, in hopes that he hopefully might know something. It would depend on the situation. It was hard to ignore or deny that you two still deeply cared about each other.

Both of you were currently hanging out with your friends again, sitting next to Helaena and having your legs over hers as you laughed with her. Watching the boys as they turned on the fire of the campfire. Aemond sat opposite from you and Helaena and tried not to look over at you too much and to focus more on the conversation he had with one of your friends. It was a cozy and quiet night; everyone was having a good time. Helaena excused herself for a moment to get herself another drink as you took a swig from your own bottle. You noticed how she slightly nodded in Aemond’s direction as she went back into the kitchen of the house. A few seconds later, you saw how he slowly walked over to you.

“Can I sit down?” He asked with a soft tone in his voice and motioned to the seat next to you. You looked up to him and nodded, slightly scooting to the side to make more room for him to sit down. Your arms brushed against one another as he sat down next to you, sending a slight shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it down and didn’t pay attention to it.

You took another swig from your bottle, even if it was almost empty. You could have gotten up to get another bottle, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with Aemond. You haven’t really had any conversations with him in the past few weeks, only having your eyes on each other. It was quite a comfortable atmosphere between you, as you watched the fire and listened to its crackles, but he had his eyes on you, admiring you as the fire cast a beautiful light on your face. He reached out and removed something from your hair, causing you to look at him for a moment, slightly confused. But in the short moment his fingers brushed over your hair sent a warmth through your body.

“It was just a tiny bug,” he tried to keep his voice low. Your lips turned into a small smile, “Thank you.”

Neither of you really knew what to say, you wanted to have a conversation with him, but you didn’t quite know what you could talk about. You could have asked him about his life, what he was up to at the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was even ready to talk about it.

As you wanted to ask something he got pulled away by Aegon. “Sorry, my lady,” he had his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and grinned, “I need my brother for a moment! He will be back at your service in a moment,” he giggled, clearly drunk as he dragged Aemond away.

You sighed with a smile on your lips and didn’t stop him, sometimes it was hilarious when Aegon was drunk. Occasionally, you wished things were different, but it was what you and Aemond had decided, so you must stick with it. You slowly nodded to yourself and got into the house to get another bottle, joining Helaena and completely missing the way Aemond longingly looked over to you as his brother talked his ear off.

A few hours later, you were talking with Helaena again, sitting together with Aemond on a bench in front of the campfire. He sat next to you, and you felt the warmth of the flames and his body, it was a pleasant feeling that filled you. His arm was resting behind you on the backrest of the bench you were sitting on. Helaena left you and Aemond alone for a moment after she had finished her story.

When she left, he slightly leaned into you and whispered into your ear, his voice casual. “Would you mind joining me for a drink back in my apartment?” He was nervous about how you would react. He already expected that you would refuse him, but he raised his eyebrows for a short moment as you accepted his invitation. Aemond cleared his throat and nodded, happy that you said yes.

A few minutes later you and him said your goodbyes to your friends. Helaena had a smirk on her lips as she hugged you. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with my partner, babe,” she teased you and whispered into your ear.

He was slightly nervous as he led you to his car and opened the passenger side for you. You occasionally looked at each other during the drive to his apartment but didn’t really talk with each other, perhaps both of you were too nervous?

One drink turned into two, and two into three. Both of you were slightly tipsy by now and were talking with each other as if nothing had ever happened. You sat next to each other on his couch, and he had one arm on the backrest, resting behind your head. Your legs were slightly bent in his direction. You noticed the way he looked down at them sometimes, and you wished he’d just grab them, but both of you knew that neither of you would dare to cross the line without completely knowing if the other one wanted it too. But you both wanted it deeply. The conversation died down between you a few minutes ago, you’ve just looked at each other. The air had already been thick before, but it was getting worse in that very moment. You found yourself looking down on his lips, and he did too. Both of you leaned into each other but stopped when you were only a few movements away from each other’s faces. Should you really give in to what you’ve wanted ever since you broke up all these months ago or not?

You felt his breath on your face and just wanted to give in, you wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. You could swear you stopped breathing when he carefully brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch and held his gaze.

“Aemond…” You dared to break the silence with a shaky whisper. You craved his touch, as much as he craved yours. Your lips were parted as your gaze went down to his lips.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want it,” he looked up from your lips into your eyes to find any hesitance, but he saw the way your pupils dilated as he held your gaze again. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered eagerly and hummed as he immediately captured your lips in a passionate and desperate kiss. Both of your tensed shoulders relaxed eventually,

His hand still cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, your hand found his cheeks immediately and pulled him into you, while his other arm, which was resting on the backrest of his couch, wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You straddled him and deepened the kiss as both of you opened your mouth to feel each other’s tongue, completely losing yourselves in the kiss. It’s what you’ve both been craving, and neither of you wanted to stop the moment. You didn’t want to think of the possible outcome or how it would change the current dynamic between you two, maybe you would find your way back to each other or it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe it would just stay at making out with each other, but both of you wanted and needed more.

He missed to feel your skin against his, the way your curves felt when he traced them. The way you’d always react to his touch, arching your back whenever his hand found its way between your thighs. The way you always reacted to his kisses, whether it was a more heated or soft and slow kiss. You loved each of them, and so did he. Aemond loved the way your hands felt on his skin, the way you’d always end up tracing his arms, hands or face whenever you cuddled or were next to each other. He appreciated and missed these moments with you. It may only have been a few months since you two broke up, but the more intimate moments between you had been missing way before you eventually parted ways.

Both of you slowly pulled away from each other, faces still close as you spoke against his lips. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You whispered, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of air in your lungs. Both of his hands had found their way to your hips and gently circled his fingers on your clothed skin, squeezing your skin.

He nodded. “I… I just need you, darling. I’m sure,” his voice was low and raspy as well. His good eye filled with desire as you looked at him and kissed him again. “Me too,” you whispered between kisses.

Aemond lifted you by gripping down on your thighs and placed you underneath him on the couch. He pulled away from you with a cheeky smile and kneeled in front of you as he pulled you on the edge of his couch. His hands roamed over your thighs to the button of your pants. Aemond looked up to you, slightly asking if he could continue. You nodded and didn’t break eye contact with him as he slowly opened the button of your pants and motioned for you to lift your hips so he could pull off your pants. His gaze never left yours, and he noticed the way you had your lower lip between your teeth as you lifted your hips eagerly, knowing what would follow. His fingers gently traced over your now exposed skin. His lips found the skin of your hip bone, which was still covered only seconds ago. His eye closed for a moment to capture this moment in his mind.

He pressed open kisses on your covered and uncovered skin, “I missed this so much,” he mumbled as he firmly but also gently gripped down your thighs while looking up at you again, silently asking if he could part your legs. You slightly sat up and parted them, causing him to smirk and move between them. His hands brushed over the flesh of your thighs and caressed them as he slowly moved them up to brush over your panties. Your breath hitched as he brushed over your still-clothed heat.

“Please, Aemond,” you whimpered as he teased your clothed clit with his finger while a smirk was on his lips. You hated how desperate you were for him, but you finally needed to feel him again. In every way you could have him. “Don’t tease me now.”

“Very well,” he hooked his fingers with the fabric of your panties on your hips and slowly pulled them down. You lifted your hips again, so it was easier for him to take your panties off.

A soft hum left his lips as soon as he tossed your panties away and saw your already glistening heat. He leaned down and pressed more kisses on the area of your heat, but not where you needed him. It frustrated you, and that made him chuckle. He always used to love to tease you, but he knew it wasn’t the perfect time for that right now, as it only tortured him as well. He couldn’t wait any longer and just wanted to get his mouth on you, his growing bulge in his pants could wait for a few moments. He wanted to give you the pleasure first. A moan left your lips as soon as he pressed his lips on your clit and made eye contact with you again. Aemond took a long drag through your slit with his tongue, your mouth stayed slightly open. He groaned into you as you grabbed one of his hands that were still on your thighs and held on to him as he devoured your cunt. He missed those pretty sounds that left your lips, especially how you tasted. For a short moment his mind went completely blank.

He started sucking on your clit and licked through your folds, causing you to tighten your grip on his hand, nails digging into his skin and your moans to get louder. He flicked his tongue in long and slower licks and changed the technique every so often to a faster and shorter pace. Completely devouring everything he could get from you. You didn’t even think about keeping it quiet, as it was overwhelming to feel his tongue on you. All the build-up tension over the past months is finally being relieved. Who would be better than him? No one.

You felt the all too well-known knot in your stomach, signalling that you were close to your climax. Aemond knew you were close as he noticed the way your panting increased, and your head fell back against the backrest of his couch. You cried out for more and wrapped one of your legs over his shoulder, which caused him to moan into you.

“Fuck– Aemond, I’m close! I…” Your grip on his hand tightened even more, if that was even possible, your back arched, and eyes closed as you focused on the building pleasure in your stomach.

“Don’t hold yourself back, darling. Come all over my face,” he panted against your cunt and got his mouth back on your swollen clit to sloppily circle his tongue around it, savouring each second while being between your thighs. Your mind turned blank as he continued to pleasure you, he still knew how to take care of you perfectly.

A strangled moan left your lips as you came on his tongue a few moments later, your legs slightly shaking as he fucked you with his tongue through your orgasm. Aemond could swear he almost lost his mind as he heard your moan and tasted you on his tongue, his hips humping into his couch. A soft chuckle left your lips as you exhaled and looked down at him. He was still kneeling between your legs, and his chin was glistening with your arousal and some of his spit. After you gained some strength again, you leaned forward and kissed him while your hands were on his cheeks, moaning as you tasted yourself.

“You did so well for me,” he praised you with a whisper as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I take you to my bed or do you–“

“Please,” you nodded eagerly with a hushed voice, “Please do, Aemond.”

He gently picked you up, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs and placed open kisses on your exposed neck as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door as you were inside to close it behind him. He carefully placed you on his bed and hovered over you as he continued to kiss your neck and jaw. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled on it, he moved his head away from your neck so you could pull off his shirt. You tossed it somewhere into his room, not caring about where it landed and traced his chest tenderly. He captured your lips in a kiss, his hips slightly buckling against you as you wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. You took off the rest of your clothes from each other in a few motions, leaving both of you naked as you straddled his lap. His hands roamed over your thighs, caressing them as you leaned down to leave kisses on his chest while feeling his length underneath you.

He sharply inhaled as you wrapped one hand around his aching cock and stroked him a few times which already left him gripping down on your thighs, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You smirked because of his reaction, you understood how he felt and eventually positioned his tip at your entrance and slowly sank down on his length, feeling how he stretched your walls. A low, needy moan escaped both of your lips, your hands on his chest, holding him down on his mattress, and his were holding you by your hips. You waited a few moments before you started to roll your hips, finding a pleasant rhythm for both of you. Aemond was completely at your mercy, it took him his entire strength not to come immediately. The sounds you made and how your hands roamed over his torso only added more levels to the pleasure he felt because of you. His body shivered, and his heartbeat increased. He felt you clenching around him and groaned with a hitched sound.

“Fuck you feel so good, darling,” he moaned. Your gazes met again, and you wished you could stay like this for eternity. His face was flushed, his back slightly arched, and his mouth agape as he didn’t hold back any sounds anymore.

This only reminded you of the beginning of your relationship, he barely voiced any hints of his pleasure and barely made any sounds whenever you slept with each other, but over the time, he let his walls down and started to be more vocal. This meant the time you were apart didn’t change that factor about him, and you loved it even more. You slightly leaned forward, feeling him deeper inside of you and grabbed his hands to intertwine your fingers, the slightly changed position adding more pleasure to both of you.

You continued to roll your hips and to hold eye contact with him, moaning his name repeatedly. After a while, you pulled him up against you, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you captured his lips in a heated, passionate kiss, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped moving for a short moment, enjoying the close and intimate moment between you as you kissed each other. He lifted you from his cock in a quick movement, both of you whimpering at the loss of each other. He rolled on top of you and gently placed you underneath him, your legs on either side of his while he slowly slid into you again and captured your lips in a kiss again. A soft gasp left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He held him up with one arm while the other held you by your hip and thrust into you with a steady, slow pace. He swallowed your moans as he continued kissing you. You gripped on his biceps, leaving crescent marks in his skin and had your eyes shut.

He fastened his pace as he felt you clenching around him. “I can’t get enough of you, darling,” his voice hitched as his climax neared, “I don’t think I can go much longer.”

Skin slapping against each other, and moans filled the room. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses on there as his hips snapped against yours. You knew he was getting close to his climax as his movements were getting sloppier. He tried to hold on, wanting to get you close for a second time the night, but it only left him whimpering against your lips as he kissed them.

“You can come inside me, Aemond,” you panted, your eyelids half-lidded as you met his gaze. “Are… Are you sure?” His breath hitched in his throat. He groaned after you nodded and lifted his head, so he could look at you as he thrusts into you once more before you felt his seed filling you up, his cock twitching inside of you.

He had a satisfied expression and moved one hand between your bodies, his thumb rubbing on your clit to get you over the edge as well while he continued to thrust into you. A cry left your mouth, and you pulled his face close to yours.

“Come for me, angel,” he exhaled.

You clenched around him, which caused him to whimper from feeling slightly overstimulated as you came shortly after him all over his cock, your legs shaking and moaning. He continued to pound into you in a slow pace to help you ride out your climax. Both of you tried to catch your breaths from the pleasure you both just felt after months of not feeling it both of you fucked out. With a low whimper, he slowly pulled out of you, and collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around him. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and were heated up, your chests heaving. His face was in the crook of your neck, your fingers gently tracing his back, which caused him to get goosebumps. He occasionally placed soft kisses on your neck while he gently traced the sides of your body. After a while, he got up and helped you to get up, holding you as your legs slightly gave up for a short moment.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Aemond asked, a tender tone in his voice, but you shook your head. “You can wait in your bed for me,” you smiled at him affectionally, which he happily returned. He was happy that you would be staying over the night. He gave you his shirt so you could go to the toilet after he made sure you were able to stand. When you came back, he already laid in his bed and waited for you to join him. He pulled the blanket over you and him.

Neither of you said anything and just enjoyed the moment while it lasted, even if it meant you wouldn’t speak about it the next morning and act like you just didn’t have your best sex in a long while. Both of you wrapped your arms around each other as you slowly drifted off to sleep. You and I finally had a good sleep after months again, laying arm in arm felt right. And it was right, was it?

A soft hum left your lips as you slowly woke up the next morning, feeling completely comfortable but slightly sore. Your eyes immediately opened and widened as you realized where you were and what you did last night with Aemond. Your back was turned towards him with his arm loosely over your waist. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly wiggled yourself out of his grip, trying not to wake him up. After you successfully got out of his bed without waking him up, you noticed that you were wearing his shirt. As you picked up your shirt, you quietly left his bedroom and got dressed after you picked up your panties and pants that were in his living room. You put his shirt on the backrest of his couch as memories from last night flooded your mind. The pleasure you felt, god it was so fucking good. You missed him and how well he always treated you and exactly knew how to get you over the edge quickly, but what if he regretted it? You didn’t want to face him or the situation, you were afraid of what could happen when he would wake up.

You deeply inhaled and made your way to the door to put your shoes back on, took your handbag and were ready to leave without saying goodbye. But you sighed as you grabbed the door handle.

What if this night was a sign for both of you? What if that was the sign that you were ready to be with each other again?

You cursed yourself, took off your shoes again and left your handbag on the floor next to them. You were willing to see what could and would happen as soon as he would wake up. You decided to wait until he did, waiting on his couch. Saying you weren’t nervous would be a lie. While you waited, you paced his living room a few times, thinking about what you could possibly say to him.

You nervously waited almost an hour until you heard noises from his bedroom. He woke up with a low groan and stretched his body, the events from last night filling his mind immediately. He sighed as he opened his eyes, rubbed his good eye and noticed that the side you slept on was already empty. He immediately sat up, and his eye roamed the room, he noticed that your shirt wasn’t on the floor anymore. ‘They already left…’ He thought and groaned as he cursed himself for having possibly ruined the only chance to get back together with you. He wanted to make things right and give you the love you deserved, not like this immediately.

What if the events of last night chased you away from him even further? What if there was no chance left anymore with you?

You fiddled with your fingers and immediately looked up from them as you saw him walking out of his bedroom. He yawned and rubbed his good eye again. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet? But as soon as his eye focused on you, he stopped in his tracks. “I… I thought you had already left.”

“I… Well, I was about to leave but…” You stood up from his couch, “But I don’t think this would have been my best option.”

“Oh… I…” He slowly nodded, considering what to say, and walked into his kitchen, which was connected to his living room. You nervously fiddled with your fingers and followed his movements with your eyes but didn’t move the rest of your body. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he mumbled as he made himself a coffee, but you heard him, and a small smile formed on your lips.

“Do you want one as well?” He pointed to his coffee mug, but you shook your head and thanked him for the offer. He poured the coffee into his mug after it was done brewing and then walked up to you.

Both of you sat down next to each other, but there was a tiny distance between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment until he broke the tense silence between you. “Do you… Want to talk about last night?” He spoke softly, the nervousness in his voice was noticeable.

You nodded and turned your gaze in his direction, turning your body towards him, “I think we should.” Aemond inhaled and nodded as well, unsure what to say for a moment before he continued. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” you paused for a moment, “Not at all.” His shoulders relaxed immediately, “Neither do I.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice again. After he nodded, you continued, “I… Uhm… I miss you. I miss us. I know we decided to part ways because of all the things that were going on back then but… I never stopped thinking about you or the time we shared. And last night… Maybe it was a sign? And maybe it was what we needed to realize that we’re ready to be with each other again.”

Aemond didn’t respond immediately, he was quite stunned, but he felt the same and agreed with you completely. He noticed how you continued to fiddle with your fingers and put down his coffee mug to gently lean to you and grab your hands to distract you. The contact calmed you down a little bit. You looked down at your hands as he brushed over the top of your hands with his thumbs. He still knew what calms you down, and you appreciated it a lot.

“I feel the same, darling,” he whispered softly, “I tried to move on, but it was impossible. There was always something missing in my life without you. I couldn’t stop looking at you whenever we hung out with our friends, and I…” He paused, “I still love you. I never stopped loving you, and when I woke up and thought you had already left, I was angry with myself for possibly having ruined any chances with you. You’re… You’re simply the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you entirely.”

You squeezed his hand and looked at him, “Nothing is ruined. I… I never stopped loving you either, Aemond.” You loved him, you always have. Many nights, you’ve found yourself thinking about the rest of your life with him together. How you’d grow old with him, maybe living somewhere peaceful. Together. Maybe you’d have a dog or more than one? Maybe a cat? Or any other animals you could take care of together. Both of you even had thought about adopting a dog or cat together when you were still together. You two already had different name ideas, one of them being Vhagar.

He smiled and scooted closer to you to lean his forehead against yours while he still held your hands tightly and gently. Maybe you were able to have a chance again. “Do you want to give us… Maybe another chance? I… I can’t continue living like this anymore. Every night, I think about you before I fall asleep, and you’re the first thought in the morning when I wake up. Wishing you were in my arms like you always used to. I just… Miss it,” he admitted quietly. His vulnerability was noticeable.

“I’d like to try again,” you smiled while tears built up in your eyes, completely out of happiness. You’ve been hoping for this moment for so long, and now you were sitting here together. Where it all started first because the first kiss you had with him before you were a couple happened in this apartment, on his couch in the same place you sat on currently.

Both of you smiled and fondly looked at one another before you eventually finally leaned in and captured his lips in a slow and tender kiss. He continued to brush his thumb over your hand and hummed into the kiss with a smile. He was truly happy. He pulled you into a hug after you pulled away from each other, stroking your head as he put his on top of yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. It was everything you needed, and maybe the break between you was needed to find each other again with a better mindset.

“I missed this,” you whispered after a while. “I missed this too. I missed you,” he admitted and kissed the top of your head. You finally had him back, he was your safe space, and you were his. And you both won’t let the other one go again. No matter what, you’d be able to get through everything together.

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stoopakoopa · 3 days

Text

Day 8 - Reunion

Drew out a little snippet from @donze-trash's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!

Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️

Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.

To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?

The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.

Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.

"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.

"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.

Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"

"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.

The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me."

Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.

When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet! The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…

One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.

"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."

The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon). Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.

Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.

Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!

Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.

The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.

"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement.

"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot.

Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"

"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.

The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?"

Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.

But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh mano?"

"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point.

"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.

"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.

Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.

"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.

Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.

Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.

"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.

Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.

They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.

"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!"

"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.

Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.

This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.

"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."

"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.

Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.

#mesdelostrescaballeros2024 #donze #three gay caballeros #donald duck #ze carioca #panchito pistoles #omg it's so bonkers late

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gojoidyll · 2 days

Text

stubborn heart ch. 5

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

previous | next

You found yourself tossing and turning in the bed. Your body eventually landed on your side as you could only find yourself staring at the side of Capitano’s face. At least one of you could sleep next to a total stranger. Then again, you doubted that Capitano would be afraid to sleep next to anyone. To you, he had no equal when it came to other humans. Sighing to yourself for what seemed to be the millionth time, you turned over to your side and gently reached for your nightstand where one of your old favorite books laid.

Then, turning a small knob on the gas lamp, a light flickered before igniting creating a small flame. Looking to Capitano to see if he woke up, you were glad that he didn’t. So you smiled slightly and turned back to the lamp while also opening your book.

Back at the Hearth, you did this plenty of times. You would always light a lamp with a small enough fire to be able to read in, then you would huddle up into your covers and delve deep into the fictional world that managed to paint itself across the pages.

It was the only way that you could put your heart and mind at ease so you could fall asleep. It also helped when the nights were too cold, or when your stomach was too empty, or when your hands would bleed or when tears would dry.

A good book was a good book.

And just as you were about to turn the page, you felt the bed shift on your right.

“What are you reading?”

It was odd how quiet his voice was in the night. It wasn’t soft per se, but it wasn’t his usual harsh tone either. Maybe he’s sleep talking?

“Wife.”

Ahhh, never mind. There is that demanding tone of his.

“It’s one of my books that was brought from the Hearth. It’s about a princess who…,” you trailed off. You were not exactly sure if Capitano wanted the full details of what you were reading.

“Go on. What is it about?”

He just keeps surprising you.

“It’s about a princess who falls in love with a knight. But she isn’t supposed to because her parents tell her that she is already betrothed to a prince in a faraway land.”

“You said it was one of the books from the Hearth, did you read it a lot?”

“I have.”

There was a brief silence before he spoke up again, “what happens next?”

You wondered if his question was genuine, but you decided to ignore the thought as you turned towards him and noticed how he was also sitting up in his bed, giving you his full attention.

“The princess ends up being sent to the faraway prince, but at her request she is allowed to take one guard, And that guard ends up being the knight she falls in love with. To her, as she lives in her new home and prepares herself to be married to the prince, she thinks she will be able to live happily as long as her love was right by her side. But… she realizes it to be impossible. She ends up sad over everything that even her knight can’t cheer her up. And the prince doesn’t like how sad she looks. He only wanted her for her beauty and the radiant smile she was known well for. Tired with how he can’t get her to smile as beautifully as he wants, he plans to kill her and dispose of her and find a new bride who he could call beautiful. The knight, learning of this plot, cuts down the prince with one strike and takes the princess away to live peacefully in a small, unknown village.”

“Does the princess smile again?”

“She does.”

Capitano “hmmed” in response before holding out his hand, your eyebrows scrunched together at the gesture before it finally clicked.

You handed the book to him, and he opened it to the first chapter.

“What… what are you doing?”

“I am going to read to you.”

Huh?

“I have been told that doing things together can make a relationship go smoother.”

“And that includes reading to me?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion.

“If it must.”

With how he was waiting for you to get comfortable, the hold on the book, and how he was scanning the page, it was clear that you weren’t going to read on your own. So, you laid back, your head hitting the too soft pillows as you pulled the covers more up to your chin.

Capitano looked at you briefly before looking back to the book.

“The world will only turn when she smiles…”

Out of all the things that have happened to you in the past two days, this would most definitely take the cake.

Though, your thoughts soon ceased as Capitano’s voice lulled you to sleep. One chapter became two, and two chapters became three. And before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

Sensing your breath evening out, Capitano closed the book and got out of bed to walk over to your side to turn off the lamp before going back to his side. Then, getting under the covers once more, he looked to you who was finally fast asleep.

“Books, huh?”

The next morning, just as Capitano had said, he was nowhere to be found. His side of the bed has long gone cold and the book he had been reading to you the night before rested gently on his nightstand, under it was a note. A slip of paper that peeked out just from under the book. Frowning at it, you flopped across the bed and stretched. Your arms reaching out as your fingers managed to snag against the slip of paper and gently pulled it out.

Quickly unfolding the note, you read through it quickly.

“Wife,

There is a library within the manor, but no books occupy it. I have left mora for you on the kitchen table. Feel free to go to town to buy as many books as you wish and fill the library to your heart’s content. Take your maid with you when you go out.

We will see each other again in two to three weeks. I expect you to hold true to our marriage despite not consummating it as I will do the same.

If you run out of mora for your books, go to the bank. Your name is attached to mine, so my mora is yours. Before you decline, do know that I do nothing with it. The mora merely sits there collecting dust. Put it to use.

-Capitano”

You found yourself rolling onto your back and rereading through the letter over and over again. It wasn’t romantic and it honestly felt like he was ordering you rather than offering a suggestion. And despite it being a simple note, it still had that authoritative tone and intimidating aura in it. Honestly, you wondered what an official letter from Capitano would be like. Like what it be if he was writing down orders or writing down a punishment?

You shivered at the thought as you rolled to the side of the bed and moved to sit on the edge of it. Your feet lightly kicked back in forth as you reached for your nightstand drawer and opened it before slipping the note inside and closing it right back up.

“I wonder what books I am going to get today!”

taglist

@nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna @sarah22447 @naviabestgiirl @nevermoresworld @depressedbearblogs @ppancakesforu @0vendettaself

some say "no blogs found" when I try to add them </3

#genshin impact #genshin #capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #capitano #genshin capitano #genshin yandere capitano #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #yandere capitano x you #yandere capitano x y/n

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leaawrites · 3 days

Text

Lost all your common sense

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: in which a misunderstanding changes it all.

The happy ending of part one: Coincidence

Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff, misunderstanding, this is pure fiction

Wordcount: 0.6k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

Leaving would always be hard, it would always break you. Looking around the apartment that now looked like the first time she walked into it, something in her died.

None of her stuff was still laying around the floor, no clothes were thrown somewhere, it was all plain now. With her suitcase standing beside her she wrote the note she thought about for so long. Max was out with Kelly and P again. He didn’t even tell her this time. She woke up alone and figured it out when she saw his ‘good’ clothes taken out of the closet.

She loved him and she was sure he loved her, to a certain degree at least. But something made him stop at that. Something he didn’t tell her about.

Turning around she was about to open the door, for the last time. Putting her hand on the handle she felt it moving without putting any pressure on it. The door opened and in walked the man of the hour. Max only stopped walking and looking up from his phone when he saw her feet in front of him. Suitcase next to her.

“Where are you going?” Max asked, looking between her and the suitcase. When she didn’t answer he continued asking questions. “Are you going on vacation?”

She looked at him unimpressed, her eyes red and her lip sucked between her teeth. Chewing on it.

“Babe, what is going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Max.”

“What?” Anxiety was creeping up on him. The feeling he had feared was coming to get him.

“I don’t think I’m the right person, Max. I’ve seen the photos of you and Kelly. I’ve seen how you look at her. I don’t think I can cope with that,” she said, trying to get past him and away from the tension that was building around them.

But Max had other plans. He closed the behind him, not letting her get past.

“Max, let me go,” she practically begged him, trying to get by once more. But Max started talking again, making her stop.

“I didn’t know who else to ask and I was scared figuring it out alone. So, when I met Kelly the first time I told her about it and she offered to help me,” he started explaining, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Max, what are you talking about?” She asked, feeling the annoyance and fear already creeping up her spine.

“I didn’t plan it like this, but…” he trailed off at the end of his sentence, taking her hand in his and walking to the middle of the living room.

He looked unsure for a second longer before he finally moved again. Putting one of his knees down on the ground and searching for something in his jeans pocket.

“Max,” she warned him in case he was just playing with her.

“Y/n,” he said back, smiling up at her as he held a velvet box in between his fingers. “I love you, only you. I don’t think that will ever change. I know that I’ve been walking on thin ice planing this and if you still want to leave I wouldn’t blame you. But I just want you to know that if you want to spent your life with me just like I want to spent mine with you, I’m ready. I don’t ever wanna miss you like I would if you walk out that door. I want to be yours. Do you wanna be mine?”

Her heart was racing, tears falling from her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. But she did. She nodded her head, mumbling ‘yes’ over and over again. Falling to her knees herself and throwing her arms around his neck.

----

I hope you're happier with this ending, than the last one.

Taglist: @ellelabelle @loloekie @ariesandwolves @sunny44 @gr1mes-cc @hrlzy @atintina

#max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 fandom #f1 grid #f1 imagine #fall season #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one #formula racing #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #sabrina carpenter short n sweet #short n sweet sabrina carpenter #short n sweet

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daydreamerwoah · 2 days

Text

Family Tree

Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)

Simon x you story <3

Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago.

"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear.

"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.

One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?

"Yeah? Who is this?"

"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"

"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused.

"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell."

You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"

"Yes. Look I don't know who-"

"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."

While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?

When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time.

"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello.

"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.

"-Oh it's okay.."

There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same.

"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear.

The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes.

"C-Charles?"

You sighed, "Yes..."

She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"

"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be."

"He is your dad sweetie."

Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."

Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad.

A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults.

You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything.

It was the beginning of a new life.

************************************************************************

You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.

When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard.

"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into.

"S'alright" the gentleman said.

He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets.

God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between.

When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation.

Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe.

"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained.

You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly.

It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure.

Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked.

Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work."

You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off.

"Maybe next time then," she smiled.

One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got.

************************************************************************

The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path.

Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell.

"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."

You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery.

If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)

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i-love-ptv · 2 days

Text

You Know Me..𐙚⭑

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Based on the prompt: “no, i’m not going to give you a bite because i know you’re not going to like it. then you’re going to ask me how the hell i like it, and i don’t want to listen to that right now.”

Wc: 915

No warnings! Just fluff tbh! :]

An: This is a random blurb I made today at 6am lololol

buttttt NEW CHARACTER UNLOCKED!!! It’s fall, and i’m missing stranger things rn 😣

ALSO!! I don’t know who made the prompt, since I got it from Pinterest, but if y’all know, tell me!!

Not proofread, i’m tired

feedback is ALWAYS appreciated mls <333

You truly think that you’re being discreet. Taking subtle glances at your boyfriend, and more specifically, what he’s eating.

Steve’s mom has this special tuna casserole recipe, and she made it on the off-chance she’s actually home.

Just looking at it makes your stomach turn a bit, it takes you back to the dinner you had at Steve’s house when he first introduced you to his parents.

You can’t remember what his mother made, but what you do remember is how after Steve dropped you off at your house with a kiss, you were in and out of the bathroom all night.

You blame it on the fact that you may have a sensitive stomach, it’s not uncommon!

But, a part of you felt bad, she put her time and effort into making a meal for you. She doesn’t even really do that for Steve himself.

So you couldn’t just reject it, besides, your mother always told you to ‘try everything first!’.

So now, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Steve had only come back to your shared home with one plate, so you had to think strategically.

Maybe you could distract him, tell him something’s wrong with the bathroom sink. Yeah! That’ll work!

“No, I’m not going to give you a bite because I know you’re not going to like it. Then you’re going to ask me how the hell I like it, and I don’t want to listen to that right now.” Steve’s sentence catches you off guard.

You whip your head towards him, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“..What do’ya mean, honey?”

“No, don’t give me that look. Baby, I know you, and I know you aren’t the biggest fan of my mom’s cooking. I’m not either.”

You jump up at this, nearly falling off the couch, which makes Steve grab your waist with his free hand. He tries to get you to sit back down, rather than kneel on the couch.

“What? I love your mom’s food!” You practically yelled, your voice picking up in pitch.

Steve gives you a look, in both disbelief and amusement.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to lie to me. D’you remember the 4th of July?”

You cringe at the memory of that day.

Steve’s family, meaning his parents, two aunts, an uncle, his grand-parents, and like four cousins - two of which, were kids - had came together for the 4th of July.

Steve, of course, invited you. He figured it would be better for him to bring you so you could meet his family, and so that he didn’t have to be alone.

The company was great, you loved talking and getting to know everyone, especially his grandmother.

But when it was time to eat, you were a bit….Hesitant, to say the least.

Steve’s dad worked the grill, and to be honest, you didn’t think it was going to be all that good, but it was!

But your dinner was spoiled by Steve’s mom’s watery macaroni and cheese, her oddly sweet potato salad, and her rock-hard rolls of bread.

But you refused to cause a scene, so you shoved all your thoughts down, and ate.

…Which resulted in you barking at Steve, telling him to drive home faster so you could use the bathroom.

You shiver at the thought of how you spent the rest of the night, in and out of the bathroom.

“Yeah, but, I think it was cause I ate too much!” You stammer, before continuing. “I’m all good now, though! Let me try some!”

You try to reach over to the plate, which is being tilted away from you by Steve’s right hand.

Your hands are resting on the brunette’s shoulders, while your body leans in the direction of the food.

“Baby, please. You don’t have to eat my mom’s cooking, I know it’s not good. Please save us both the trouble.” Steve sighs, you know he’s not mad at you.

He’s actually anything but.

He admires how you’re pushing down your feelings, only to uplift his and his mother’s. But he doesn’t want you to think that you’re required to do so.

After another 5-ish minutes of you blabbering on about how you ‘want to try her hard work’ and Steve arguing back, you slouch back onto the couch with a huff.

“I know y’wanna be nice, baby. But you don’t have to.” Steve softy coos, while rubbing your stomach.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to Steve.”

Steve hums at you, and moves your legs from his lap as he stands up.

You track his body, as he walks into the kitchen, scrapes his plate, then sits it in the sink.

Steve goes back to the couch, picks you up, and then lays you on top of him once he’s comfortable laying down. He puts a blanket onto the two of you, and then rubs your back.

Steve leaves a firm, but sweet kiss on your forehead. “My sweet girl, always so nice to everyone, huh?”

You giggle softly, your eyes growing heavy at the feeling of him drawing shapes on your back.

The last thing you remember is him briefly reaching over you, and using the tv remote to turn down the volume.

Steve doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you, but he’ll spend the rest of his life thanking any, and every god for you.

And you’ll never be able to lie to him.

Cause he knows you.

────♡────

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #joe keery #joe keery x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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luveline · 1 hour

Note

Hotch’s little sister x Spencer, they gang up on her about her safety or health or something, and she’s like “I’m happy you’re getting along, but don’t love getting ganged up on” 😂

You thought that when things between Spencer and Aaron finally became less awkward again, things would be easier. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them, but perhaps it’s not your fault.

After all, Spencer’s the one who chose to date his boss’s younger sister. That was his idea.

Of course, you ate up his flirting and agreed to all your dates, but still. Spencer’s fault for sure. So why are you in trouble?

“Honey, I’m honestly a little surprised with you.” Aaron takes a deep breath. “It was a completely unnecessary course of action.”

Surprised with you is more apt than he realises. “Wait a second, what?” You’d known you were in for a scolding from his weird text, but you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“You went for a walk in the city alone at midnight?” Aaron frowns. “Have you learned nothing from me?”

“How do you know I went for a walk?”

Aaron raises his eyebrows. You look out of the window of his office and straight into the guilty face of your boyfriend. He has the decency not to look away, at least. “Spencer told you that?”

“He did.”

You meet the big, soft, beautiful brown eyes of your lovely boyfriend and quirk a finger at him for him to join you in the office.

“Don’t start, honey.”

“Aaron, I’m allowed to go for a walk.”

“In the city? In the middle of the night?” Aaron gives you another unimpressed eyebrow raise. You glare at him, not fond of being questioned.

“I had my phone.”

He pinches his brow.

“Aaron, what’s up with you? I’m well within my rights to go for a walk. I wanted to clear my head. I didn’t go down any side alleys.”

“You realise you’re being defensive with me because you know it was a silly thing to do.”

You bristle. The door opens and honestly seeing Spencer’s little frown makes you more annoyed than you had been. “Spencer, why would you tell him my business?”

“It came up in conversation?” he tries.

“Spencer.”

“I was concerned! You can’t just walk around at night in the city by yourself! Who knows what could’ve happened to you, and Hotch agrees with me, it’s too dangerous…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t mean to tattle, and I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do.”

“But I can,” Aaron says. “We all know you’re aware of the danger you put yourself in. Please, don’t do it again.”

“I feel like I just went back in time a hundred years,” you say.

“It’s an antiquated attitude, but it’s, you know, grounded firmly in reality,” Spencer says, and you’re surprised to find he isn’t shying away from you now. “It’s reckless. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“It would destroy me,” Aaron says without preamble. “Honey. Please, you can’t do that again, especially without telling someone where you’re going. What if somebody hurt you?”

You pause to digest what he’s saying. He’d profiled you correctly before —you’re defensive because you already knew you were taking a risk, and you knew if he found out this is how he would react. You hadn’t suspected Spencer would rat you out, but it’s not like he’d been very happy when he learned about it for the first time either.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask. “You’re going to gang up on me whenever I do something stupid.”

Aaron’s smile is forgiving and a little bit sorry, too, “I didn’t say stupid, did I?”

“Reckless,” Spencer supplies.

“Well. At least you’re both getting along again.”

“That’s yet to be seen,” Aaron says quickly.

You wave a hand at Aaron in the universal sign for shut up and turn your full attention to Spencer where he’s laughing in the doorway. You push him out by the chest, not bothering to wait for the office door to close before you start in on him. “That was confidential information, Spencer Reid, which you were privy to as a boyfriend, and not my brother's colleague and conspirator.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiles, and he’s sincere. “I just knew you’d listen to him.”

Ugh. Stupid profilers. “Sure, I’ve listened. Now I’m extremely upset and in need of lunch.”

“Where do you wanna go? I’ll buy,” Spencer says immediately.

That’s more like it.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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mikewheelerisaboykisser · 11 hours

Text

I still don’t understand why so many people think that Mike didn’t pick up at all on what Will was actually saying in the van scene, I’m convinced that Mike knows, he has to at least suspect something because:

- El wrote him that she doesn’t know what Will is painting and that maybe it’s for a girl, for someone he likes.

- Will said she told him what to draw but El doesn’t know or care about DnD.

- If it’s from El why isn’t she in the painting at all? Just Mike and his friends?

- What Will says about El’s feelings just doesn’t reflect what Mike knows to be true.

“You make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all, like she’s better for being different”

“You think i’m a monster too, you were scared of me”

“If she was mean to you or she seem like she was pushing you away it’s probably just because she’s scared of losing you”

El was not mean to Mike and she wasn’t pushing him away, the opposite actually, she was crying, saying that Mike never tells her that he loves her (and clearly doesn’t make her feel loved).

This part reflects Will’s behavior towards Mike way more than El’s and Mike knows it.

- Will was clearly emotional, with tears welling up in his eyes, who the hell gets that emotional while talking about someone else’s relationship?

- Mike looked back at Will after he turned the other way and started crying, he knows, HE KNOWS.

Well, why didn’t he say anything?? BECAUSE!! He knows Will doesn’t like to be treated like he’s fragile, like he’s a baby, he knows that if Will wanted his comfort he wouldn’t have turned the other way and tried to hide it, he respects that, he gives him space. Plus they’re not alone in the van, he wouldn’t want to embarass him.

“Mom, Dustin, Lucas, everyone, they treat me like i’m gonna break, like i’m a baby, like i can’t handle things on my own. It doesn’t help, it just makes me feel like more of a freak”

Notice how he never mentioned Mike.

I don’t care what everyone, even the Duffers say, Mike can’t be totally cluless on what was going on, it just doesn’t add up, Mike is not that dumb and his behavior makes total sense actually.

The Duffers might be just lying not to spoil cause if you put together:

- Mike knows Will is talking about his own feelings

- Mike looks like THAT at Will while he’s talking about them

Well, it’s basically undeniable that Mike reciprocates Will’s feelings. You don’t need anything else.

#byler #stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #van scene #idk let me know if i got something wrong

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

Text

Bad Guy 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house.

“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers.

“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.”

You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side.

“Out, now,” he barks.

You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again.

“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits.

You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--”

“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?”

He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass.

“Go on, get up,” he orders you.

You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you.

You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up.

“Gail,” Chris calls past you.

There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself.

You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph.

You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack.

“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.”

You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it.

You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time.

You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen.

From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you.

A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge.

You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?”

“No,” you frown.

“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.”

You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead.

“There’s shit all in the cupboards.”

You squint and shake your head, “okay?”

“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “what?”

“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts.

“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.”

You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?”

“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--”

“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.”

“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.”

“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.”

“Ah, you’re hurting me--”

“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?”

“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?”

“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.”

He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you.

“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.”

You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around.

You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat.

You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears.

You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.”

You turn and frown, “...what?”

“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’

Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers.

“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.”

You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer.

“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says.

You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?”

No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil.

“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks.

You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close.

“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--”

“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--”

“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--”

“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--”

He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers.

“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.”

He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--”

“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?"

He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force.

He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps.

He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over.

“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.”

He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.

#chris #destroyer!chris #chris x reader #dark!chris #dark chris #destroyer #series #fic #bad guy #dark fic #dark!fic #au

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surielstea · 22 hours

Text

“Hey, Stranger.”

Based on a request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: In attempt to get away from the ball, Rhysand encounters a generous stranger and seems to find exactly what he’s looking for when she invites him in.

Warnings: Mention of sickness | all fluff | teensy argument at the end but has a HEA :)

4.1k words

Rhys had yet to decide where it was exactly he was going. His hands were tucked into his pockets and the darkness of his power swirling from his neatly pressed jacket.

He left the ball thrown in his honor quickly after it started, it was an event meant solely for him to find a High Lady, or at least scope out the options.

A night of mindless women vying for attention that he had no care for, none of them held what he was looking for, and none of them were her. Who she was, he had no clue, but he would, once he found her.

A low whistle came from his lips, the tune the same one he heard as he snuck out of his own damned party.

I was squatted down beside the bar sign, writing the nightly specials with the chalk in my hands when the stranger approached.

"One free drink with the order of a meal? It's almost too good to be true," The male said. I turned, not noticing his footsteps, and glancing towards him. I chuckle, rising to face him— even if he towered over me, and readjusted the sign to stand on its own. "You hungry? I could open up a few minutes early," I offer and his dark, manicured brows lift in slight surprise. He was beautiful, truly, his tanned features and hair dark as night complimenting his stunning violet eyes that seemed to be stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Such generosity, from a stranger," He smirks, his eyes softening as he took in my modest dress and simple hairstyle. It wasn't pity that shone in that glorious violet, but warmth. Then those eyes flick down from my face, lower, then slowly trail my figure all the way back up— lingering for a moment on the way my neckline dipped a little too low for comfort. I blurt out my name and his eyes snapped back to mine, not at all looking ashamed for his staring.

"There, not strangers anymore." I shrug with a gentle grin. He mirrors it with a charismatic smile that has been guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

"Lead the way then," He jerked his head back towards the tavern and I nodded, swiveling on my heel and heading towards the propped open, slightly worn red door. The tavern itself was a little rough around the edges, the paint chipping from the walls, the fireplace dusty, and half of the table legs were uneven. But it paid the bills and the regulars didn't seem to mind as long as we served drinks.

"Why aren't you at the ball tonight?" The male asked as I loved my way around the bar counter and he sat on one of the stools.

"I have to stay and look after my mother," I explain, and I wasn't sure why I told him something so personal, so I quickly added, "Besides, once that ball is over this bar will fill tremendously. Someone's got to run it."

He simply nods in reply, leaning onto the counter with fascination in his eyes, as if I were a creature to be studied.

"And what about you? Why'd you leave?" I ask, turning away from his stare to pour him a mug of ale.

"I didn’t find what I was looking for there," He explains as I place the mug in front of him. "Out here, though, much better." His eyes linger on me as he brings the glass up to his sensuous lips, and something tells me he wasn't telling me the entire truth.

"That's all? I don't buy it, you're too polished to be wandering like this, what's the true reason?" I lean my hands onto the counter, tilting my head at him.

"Polished, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me." He taunted, setting his mug down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"And I'd say you're deflecting," I retort. "So tell me, what are you hiding, stranger?" I smirk, using the nickname to my advantage, if only to further show I knew very little about him.

"Perhaps I found a better reason to stay away?" He suggests, leaning back in his stool with casual grace as if he comes to this bar nightly.

"Oh? And what might that be?" I arch a brow, pushing off the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.

His smirk widens. "I'm looking at her." He purrs and a blush blooms across my cheeks and my heart rate picks up, I prayed to every god that he couldn't hear it.

I steel my features into submission as I say, "You're not a very subtle male are you?"

He snorts, looking down at his pressed black suit. "What about me says subtle?" His eyes come back up to mine, reaching to his lapel and picking an invisible piece of lint from it.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Very little," I say with an amused smile, going over to the sink and grabbing a damp cloth that hung over the faucet, wanting to busy my hands, I begin wiping down the countertop.

"So is this what you do, then? Tavern maid by day, barmaid by night?"

"No, I only work the night shift here, I'm a teacher at the school down the road during the day," I explain, a proud grin on my lips as I think of all my young students.

"A teacher? I thought they were supposed to be strict?" He suggests and I smirk, glancing up at him with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

"I can be strict if you'd like," I shrug, feigning innocence.

"You're bold for someone who doesn't know who they're talking to," He purred in reply and I scoffed.

"Bold?"

"Inviting me in? Flirting with me?" He suggests, leaning onto the bar, closer to me.

"I am not flirting. And I'm only being nice, you looked like you needed saving from your own thoughts." I shake my head, turning away from him and discarding the damp rag back over the sink faucet before moving towards the kitchens where I could prepare him a meal.

"And you think a meal will do that?" He asks from behind me, I can feel his stare on my figure as I shuffle behind the bar for a plate.

"I've been told I make a killer pie, you'd be surprised how far a slice will get you," I say while playing with a piece of my signature pie.

"I'll take one then," He hums and I walk back over to him, placing the plate of warm pie in front of him.

"Good." I hold a fork out to him. He takes it with wild amusement in his gaze before digging into the slice and taking a large bite. I tried to pretend I wasn't watching his reaction, instead refilling his ale but his minor groan did not slip past my notice.

"So, you never told me your name, what should I call you?" I lift a brow, glancing over at him and pushing his mug back over beside his plate.

"Handsome? Mysterious? Dashing? All three? I'll let you decide." He replied unflinchingly and it takes everything in my power not to scoff.

"I think I'll stick with 'stranger' for now," I give him a pointed look but he only replies with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Your loss."

———

The Stranger came back the next day, and the next, and the next. I always set a slice of pie aside for him. He usually came in at the end of the night, when the crowds dwindled and the barstools were put up, and once he was done with his food he helped me with the dishes, and I tried not to acknowledge the way my heart skipped a beat when our hands would brush beneath the warm soapy water. He'd always walk me home afterward and bid me farewell at the door, and only once he was gone would I realize that I never got his name. And if I did remember he'd change the subject or call himself handsome again.

I didn't get too hung up on it, I was far too distracted by his casual grace and clever remarks.

At some point we had shifted into him walking me from the school house to the bar, then meeting with me again to walk me home, I don't even know how it happened, how he had interwoven himself so much into my life. Not a stranger, a friend, whom I still did not know the name of.

I hadn't been expecting to see the stranger today. I wasn't working at the bar tonight, I told him that, yet here he was at the school house grouped with all the parents there to pick up their kids. They stared sometimes, at me and him. It was unabashed and more of a gawking look than a stare but if the love life of their children's school teacher is the only drama they have in their lives then so be it. I let them stare as the Stranger slung an arm around me and guided me along.

"I thought I told you yesterday I'm not working tonight?" I say, propping my hands on my hips as I stare at him with a pointed stare. "Which means no daily pie?" I say because that's what this was, right? He'd walk me to and from the tavern for some free food then be on his way. That was all.

He shrugs, his hands in his jacket pockets casually as he utters, "I still wanted to see you, slice or no."

"Shouldn't you be busy with more important things?" I ask, taking a few steps closer as a gaggle of young kids rush past me with their bags halfway on their shoulders, running to their parents.

"Who says this isn't the most important?" He suggests and a pink hue graces my cheeks. I look down at one of my students struggling with his bag.

"Well, you're always welcome," I say while leaning down and adjusting the boy's straps onto his back. The kid thanked me then rushed off, staring slightly at the Stranger in wonder. "Though the kids might ask you to read a story if they see you hanging around too much." I smile teasingly while brushing the front of my clothes off.

"I think I can manage that." He hummed, staring at me like I hung every star in the night sky that this court worshipped.

"I hope you know I'll be holding you to that," I say with a small smile, grabbing my own bag from its cubby and slinging it over my shoulders.

"Can you hold me to walking you home as well, or should I take my leave?" He asks, leaning against the doorway of my classroom.

I scoff a laugh, shaking my head amusedly. "I suppose some company would be nice." I drone dramatically and he returns my chuckle with his own rich, deep laugh.

The crunch of shoes on gravel sounded as the Stranger walked beside me, his black suede shoes so contrasting to my colorful kitten heels that the younger girls in my class adored so much. "So what does a school teacher do on her night off?" He asks after a pause of comfortable silence. Our hands brush as we walk, so I shove my hands into my pockets and shrug.

"Oh you know, wild stuff, baking pies, reorganizing the pantry, going to bed after dinner, truly living on the edge," I remarked, tossing him an incredulous glance.

"Dangerous, I might have to stick around just to make sure you survive." He intones and a soft giggle leaves my lips as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

I could feel his stare linger on me at that moment, and perhaps it was the sun setting behind me, or the echo of my laugh, but I could’ve sworn he whispered, “Beautiful.” I glanced at him curiously but he looked away.

"You know, I've been thinking—" He started and cut him off.

"Treacherous words." I purr, earning myself a sidelong glare.

"Rude, as I was saying, I've been thinking that you might be one of the most interesting people I've ever met." He confesses and I snort, looking at him like he’s gone mad.

"What's funny about that?" He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest— and I most definitely did not miss the way his muscular arms strained against the fabric of his jacket.

"I work two jobs and live with my sick mother, there's not much interesting there," I utter, looking at the familiar slightly run-down town townhouse in front of me.

He shrugs. “I stand by what I said,” He hums, continuing to stay beside me all the way up to the front door.

My hand rested on the doorknob but I didn’t make the move to go inside, instead, I turned to him— my breath hitching at our proximity. I hadn’t realized how close he was, but now I could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his smell of sea salt and citrus invading my senses. I swallowed thickly as his eyes glanced down to my lips, then quickly back to my eyes.

"You've got flour on your cheek," He murmured and I flushed beet red in embarrassment.

"Still? Oh gods, I was prepping some dough for the tavern this morning," I replied, rubbing at my cheek with panicked movements and he chuckled, moving forward and reaching towards my face, then hesitating before touching me.

"Here, can I?" He arches a dark brow and I blink up at him but nod.

He cups my jaw, his thumb swiping over my cheek in a lover's caress. His touch was so intimate, and his calloused hands only brought warmth.

“There,” Again, his gaze went down to my lips, but before he could lean in I turned towards the door, fumbling with my bag for my keys while clearing my throat.

His touch didn’t linger as he retracted his hand and then took a few steps back. “So do I get an invite inside or am I subject to wandering the streets looking lost until I find my way home?" He suggests, simply filling the silence as I scrounge for my keys.

"Something tells me you're often lost," I say slightly shakily, finally finding my keys and unlocking my door.

"Not with you." He says casually and heat rises to my cheeks. I swing the door open, scanning the room for my mother then figuring she must be in bed. “You can come in, for a few minutes,” I say, entering the house and sliding off my shoes.

He follows my actions and closes the door behind me, taking in the warmly lit cabin, the fireplace crackling in front of the sofa, the curtains spread and welcoming in the last of the sun's rays.

I silently shuffled into the kitchen, and the stranger followed on my heels.

“So this is where the magic gets made, hm?” He said, eyeing a pie half dug into on the counter.

I frown at the sight of it and his brows furrow. “What is it?” He asks as I scan the room.

“I made that pie for you,” I say softly. “Hold on, just a moment,” I say and stalk towards the dining room separated by a partition wall. I peek my head through the open archway, finding my mother at the end of the table with incriminating crumbs and jam on her plate— and the corners of her mouth.

"Mom, what are you doing out of bed?" I sigh, more worried about her health than her stealing a slice from a container that I specifically told her this morning not to eat, granted she was half asleep and any food she could get down was as valuable as gold to me nowadays.

"I need a few moments of feeling young, and this pie will get anyone out of bed." She waves her hand at me dismissively, making a sour face as I attempt to look disappointed.

"Who's your friend?" She jerked her chin in the direction behind me, but she didn’t even glance at him. I turn to see the stranger now leaning against the open doorway, taking up the whole space with his height.

"Uh, he's—” I begin to say, only to realize I could not answer, for I still did not know his name. Yet here I was, inviting him into my home.

"By the cauldron— the High Lord." My mother gasps, standing up, her chair scraping against the tiled floors.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gods, you'll have to excuse her, she's a little out of sorts—" I wave her off but the Stranger simply smiles and bows formally to my mother.

"At your service, my Lady."

My mouth goes dry. "You... you're the High Lord?"

The stranger— no, High Lord Rhysand, smirked. It dawned upon me that I never learned his name because he made sure of it, he only visited me during opening and closing hours, and that first night, the night of the High Lords ball, he said he hadn’t found what he was looking for, a potential wife. He had been looking for a High Lady that night.

Yet here he stood in my dining room like he’s always belonged here, his dark hair, his violet eyes, and his tanned skin all slotting into place in my memory of what I’ve learned of my courts High Lord. I swallowed thickly, glancing between him and my mother, then back at him.

“Can we speak, in private?” I say with a polite smile.

He pushes off the doorframe and moves for me to pass through. “Lead the way.” He gestures for me to pass with his hand in a dramatic manner. “It was nice meeting you, Miss,” The High Lord smiles charmingly at my mother and I grab his arm, dragging him down the hall towards my bedroom.

“You too, dearie!” My mother calls in a slightly frail voice.

I ignore him and pull the male into my room, closing the door behind him and then staring at him like he’s turned my world upside down.

I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I wanted to be furious at him, wanted to scream and yell and throw something at him to express the suffocating emotions clawing up my throat, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

Because beneath the betrayal, the anger, and the shock, lay something I thought I’d never experience. That flutter of something warm I felt when he smiled at me, or when our hands brushed, made me feel safe in ways I thought I never could before.

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” I whisper, quiet but not weak. My words were barely audible but he heard me, he always did.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just, I got lost in the feeling of you seeing me, for me.” He expressed but my glare did not waver.

“But you still have duties, you have a title— you have a gods damned court, you can’t just use me to play pretend,” I argue.

His eyes soften at my words and he takes a dangerous step forward. “I’m not using you, and I’m not playing pretend— in fact, it’s quite the opposite. With you Darling, I feel more like myself than I have in centuries.” He admits and I swallow, wringing my hands anxiously. “I wanted to tell you,” He adds.

“You should have,” I stress with narrowed brows, a furious expression that didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“But would you have treated me differently if you had known from the start?” He suggests and I clamp my mouth shut.

He was right, I doubt I’d be as unguarded with him if I knew of his title, and I certainly wouldn’t allow him to walk me home every night, and gods— oh gods, I flirted with him. The High Lord.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, rubbing at my face, unsure how to navigate any of this.

“I’m still me, nothing has to change.” He takes another step, less than an arm's distance away now. Too close, or too far. I didn’t know.

“But they do, you’re a High Lord and I’m just—”

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence, you are far more than ‘just’ anything.” He cuts me off and I release a low, well-earned sigh.

“High Lord,” I muttered under my breath, the weight of the title seeming to make my room close in around us.

“Rhys, please, call me Rhys.” He grabbed my still fidgeting hands, his familiar callouses still the same, the warmth still the same.

“I could never fit in your world,” I express.

“You already do, in ways I thought never imaginable.” He expressed, his thumb caressing over the fluttering pulse in my wrist.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you in it— beside me, I mean.” He confessed and I swore my breathing stopped and the words were stolen from my mouth.

“You, you can’t be serious,” I shake my head, disbelief encasing me.

“I told you I didn’t find what I was looking for the night of the ball, but I did— an equal, a High Lady.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everything was a phantom wind, except those violet eyes that I feel like I’ve known my entire life. Those remained steady, constant. “Rhys,” I whisper and the tension in his shoulders dissipates, as if hearing his name on my lips had lifted a weight atop them.

“I don’t know the first thing about, any of that,” I admit and a soft smile tugs at his lips.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out, together.” He promised. “You don’t have to decide right now, you don’t have to decide for another century if that’s what you prefer— just think about it, because I truly believe no one else could fill that role, not the way you can.”

I nodded slowly, still processing everything, and leaning into his touch, his hand slipping into mine while his other came to cup my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I nod. Because I had to weigh my job at the schoolhouse, and my situation with my mother— I couldn’t just uproot my life and move into a palace.

“Will you also think about finally letting me kiss you?” He mutters, our noses nearly brushing.

I crack a sly smile. “I’ve done enough thinking about that, come here Stranger,” I grab him by his collar and he grins wildly the moment our lips connect.

His hand on my jaw slides to the nape of my neck while his other moves to my hip, pulling me impossibly closer.

My arms sling over his shoulders, my chest pressed to his, slotting together like the final piece to a puzzle I’ve been trying to finish for years.

Everything else faded away as my back made contact with the cold wood of my door and his wicked tongue slid over my bottom lip. I gasped softly and he took advantage of the moment to invade my mouth. He explored and tasted and savored every inch he could find, memorizing the feel of me against him, my taste, my rapid heartbeat, my muffled noises.

I didn’t know I was suffering from lack of oxygen until he pulled away and I had to take a deep, recovering inhale.

I blinked a few times, the kiss tilting my world on its axis.

He chuckled, the sound like velvet against my bare skin. “That really did a number on you, huh?” He taunted and I glared up at him, wrapping my arms a little tighter around the back of his neck.

“Don’t get cocky, I’m still mad at you,” I grumble but his smile didn’t falter.

“In my defense, you never asked if I was the High Lord,” He said matter of factly and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, right because that’s a normal question to ask people I meet on the street.” I scoff and he nods, staring down at me with a love-drunken smile.

“I might take you up on that High Lady offer sooner than expected if kissing is a part of my job description,” I murmur, ghosting my lips over his.

He gifts me a wolfish grin in reply. “Much more than kissing is on that description,” He purrs, matching my tone.

“Tempting.” I rise onto my toes and connect our lips once again, and again, and again. Prepared to do so until I was sure I was sick of the taste of him.

I knew it was reckless to make such life-changing decisions so suddenly, but internally it was clear what my answer would be to his offer.

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