#it was not meant for her to find and read it was not meant to send hate her way it was just to acknowledge the elephant in the room

[lettersofalover]

-> kiss me quick | blurb

paige b. x famous!fem!reader | for @euphternal

genre: fluff

summary: the hard launch of your relationship happens courtside at a nba game because the camera man won’t give up

the camera followed you. from the moment you sat down he was finding angles and sneaky ways to cut to you each timeout or commercial break. you played into it because it was the new normal for your life. with your dads recent acquisition of an nba and wnba team, all eyes were on your family. the media speculated endlessly about your dad, his previous experience, his hockey playing son and you, a model and brand ambassador for multiple luxury brands. you worked alongside you dad in the office with designing the teams public image and crafting more life and energy into the game. the future of quality basketball meant a unforgettable fan experience. you, your friends, and your brothers’ friends always sat front row. you were a loud mouth heckler and famously known for it. there was a video of you that circulated where you told off the referee while simultaneously giving the bird to devin booker after he played dirty.

it was all in good fun, devin would dm you after the game, asking to take you out but you declined - he was 1/2 your type. he was an athletic professional basketball player but he fell short in the most important area. you liked your basketball players to be women, tall and blonde, with a heart of gold. someone who was unapologetic about their loyalty. and that someone, your girlfriend, was paige bueckers.

she was late to the game and when she finally slid into the seat next to you, she held a shirley temple in her hand and a massive smile on her face. she leaned into your ear to say hi and offered you a sip of her drink - she held the straw for you and you took a long swig of the alcoholic drink that she so desperately loved. you couldn’t help but agree that it was delicious. paige leaned back into the seat and placed her arm on the back of your chair, immediately asking about the game. her infamous leg spread made you smile - she looked really fucking good tonight.

“how does dad feel about it?” paige questioned about the teams sudden lackluster performance. paige loved your dad and he loved her right back. he was skeptical of her at first - he assumed she was cozying up to you so that she would get a guaranteed spot on a wnba team. but the more she came around it was clear she loved you and soon, she was family.

“he’s pissed. there’s some disconnect between the coaches and the players and they don’t want to talk through it.” you admitted. paige shook her head in disbelief.

“what are these plays? the guys are reading right through them.” she sighed as the opposing team possessed the ball. the suns executed a perfect counter play to control the ball and lob it to their own player, who dunked and swung on the rim for good measure. he stuck his tongue out in a celebratory fashion and pointed at you - a friendly jab but it didn’t stop the irritation from growing.

the buzzer echoed through the arena and a commercial break ensued and you turned to paige to give her your undivided attention. it had been while since you had seen her last. you crossed your legs and she placed her hand on your knee, listening closely as you tried to talk over the mc announcing a kiss cam. it was in the back of your mind as you talked to her about the meeting you had with your dad but the music overpowered you. suddenly, the crowd whooped and cheered and paige snatched her hand from your leg. you looked up at the jumbotron where the camera man had you promptly placed in a heart with your brothers friend, who sat to the left of you. the both of you laughed and your brothers friend fiend heartbreak as you denied him a kiss.the camera moved on to someone else, thankfully.

the camera bounced between couples, old and young, and you smiled at how interactive the crowd was tonight. even in the midst of one of the worst days of the season, the fans were happy to participate. the crowd grew louder and this time, the camera man settled on paige and your brother who sat to the right of her. he fell over in laughter and she immediately began signaling “no” with her hand swiping back and forth in front of her face. your brother was cackling, pushing her arm playfully and she turned as red as a tomato.

“oh my god they aren’t giving up tonight.” you laughed and your brother said, “i bet yall are next.”

“no shot.” “hell no.” you and paige spoke simultaneously. the camera panned to another couple who seemed to be wearing matching uconn shirts and paige cheered along with the crowd. the buzzer rang again, signaling the end of the break.

“see, i told you that they wouldn’t come back.” you replied but you spoke too soon. the kiss cam was focused squarely on you and paige. the two of you placed on each side of a heart in the jumbotron and to make matters worse the crowd began to chant, “kiss kiss kiss” over and over.

paige looked to you and you looked at her, both of you bursting into laughter. she took the comfortable, easy route, and placed a kiss on your cheek and much to your surprise, the crowd booed and paige threw her hands in the air.

“should we?” she asked as the crowd began chanting “kiss kiss kiss” again, this time louder than the last. you shrugged your shoulders with a smile and bit the inside of your lip and nodded at your girlfriend, who took you face in her hand. she held your jaw sweetly and kissed you. the sound of the crowd was deafening and your heart was beating faster than you knew it could. sneakily, paige wrapped her hand around your neck and pulled you in closer which made you giggle against her lips. you knew it would go viral as soon as the internet got ahold of it. it was an unserious kiss but a kiss nonetheless and you knew that people were shocked to see it. you pulled away from her and waved at the camera before hiding your face in your hands. paige leaned back in her seat once more, a smirk spread across her face.

the crowd was satisfied with the results of their chanting and finally getting you two to kiss. it wasn’t a secret but you kept it private - until now, when you made out with your girlfriend on national television. where there was no back tracking. paige’s phone immediately started to flood with notifications of what just happened, people even sent pictures of the kiss.

“i cannot believe we did that.” you said, “i can’t believe you did that.” you teased. she pulled her phone out and scrolled through the comments flooding her instagram page.

“look,” she pointed at the comments.

user1: always knew she was for the girls but did she have to take my girl smh

user2: paige you didn’t have to break up with me this way

user3: i would die for your gf actually

[vanteguccir]

You Make Loving Fun | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

Warning: Mentions of blood and pain.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

(if you asked to be on the taglist but isn't tagged above, it's because you have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow)

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[megistusdiary]

If Arlecchino sees you as a replacement for her childhood friend (Clervie) and you accidentally find out, it makes you very sad and when she finds out she is next to comfort and prove Show you how much she loves you, not see you as a replacement by feeling guilty about you. 🤭

i think you guys are obsessed with hurting me

angst with arlecchino

arlecchino x fem!reader

warnings: angst (hurt + comfort), suggestive at the end

it was a mistake to look in her journal. you should've known better than to pry into her personal thoughts. that journal was for secrets, and as she always said, things she kept secret from you were better that way.

the only way she even knew you read it was the singular teardrop left on the corner of the page. it irreversibly smudged the ink, leaving a permanent addition to her writing that spoke louder than any of the words on the page.

"let me explain." she answered you, finally managing to corner you as you lay in your shared bed, tears in your eyes.

"explain what? that i'm just... some replacement for someone you lost?" it's obvious you're hurting, and so is she. while she wishes you would've never set foot in her office, she also knows her own internal thoughts are the problem.

she approaches the bed, gently kneeling down at the side, wrinkling her neatly pressed pants. "please listen." and you can hear the desperation in her normally cold tone. "i never meant for you to see that journal."

"but i did."

"what you read was something i've kept bottled up. you are not clervie's replacement, you are my wife." she tells you firmly, reaching over to hold your hand. "i saw good in her, good that i knew i couldn't possess myself. i am cursed, after all. it's the same good that i saw in you." she pauses, looking up at you. "i see things that remind me of her in you, not the other way around."

"what difference does it make? you'll always compare me to a girl you keep alive in your memories alone." you sniffle, wiping your eyes.

"i won't deny that clervie will never leave my memories. she was the only friend i've ever had until i met you." she rubs her thumb across the back of your hand. "i fell in love with you not because of clervie, and it takes me time to see the resemblance. it is no surprise i would seek out someone so... kind-hearted."

you stay quiet and she pulls your chin to look at her. "i have no intention of lying to you like this. i can say that i love you over and over until my lips bleed, but that won't change a thing in your mind, will it?"

"no. i suppose not." you frown and she cups your cheek.

"then let me prove it to you. i hope you know those words were written in a... particularly troubling time for me. they brought me comfort... to see that i have you. to think she would be happy for us."

she slides into bed with you, bringing you closer to her chest and wiping your tears. "you're not a replacement. you're my wife. you are the most important person in my life at all times." her lips press into your forehead as you snuggle into her.

"prove it." you mumble, half-teasingly, but you yelp when she rolls you over, looming over you instead. "arle-"

"peruere. that's my name, and i am aware you know, so say it."

"peruere." you breathe out softly and she sighs, looking troubled.

"i haven't heard that name in ages. it brings me... discomfort, but coming from you, it's almost like it means something loving again." she hums, leaning down to kiss your throat. "let me show you how much you mean to me." she offers.

you smile up at her, nodding as she kisses away your tears and slowly descends your body, taking gentle care of you for the night.

[calicoheartz]

Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her

The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢

summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡

wc; 346

warnings : none , just fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈

Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.

The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.

But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.

After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.

Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.

“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.

As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.

Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.

her post 🥹❤️

liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others

caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍

-

sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

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[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[hyukaslvr]

strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 11.2

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.

“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”

Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.

his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?

Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.

one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.

when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.

you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.

it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,

forever

and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.

you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.

I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.

you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.

you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.

so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.

ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.

he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.

“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.

let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.

you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.

“your shoes too big for you, baby?”

you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.

the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.

another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.

“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.

“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.

“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”

“how, with what car-”

“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.

Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-

doink

something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.

you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.

“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.

you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.

“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.

“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.

“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.

“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.

“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”

“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”

you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”

“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”

“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”

“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?

when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?

you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.

“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.

it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.

“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.

“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.

Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.

you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.

“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”

oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?

a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy

if your tag isn’t gray, please fix your settings so i can tag you next time love!

[hollytoshaw]

noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

✩ ✩ ✩

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

-

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better. 

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to. 

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London. 

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while. 

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off. 

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. 

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist. 

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat. 

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time. 

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.  

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather. 

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought. 

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory. 

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers. 

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days. 

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots. 

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer. 

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them. 

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work. 

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space. 

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven. 

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did. 

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain. 

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect. 

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind. 

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot. 

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up. 

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

/

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout. 

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back. 

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face. 

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed. 

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours. 

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her. 

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back. 

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact. 

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go. 

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous. 

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night. 

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person. 

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor. 

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest. 

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was. 

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words. 

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’ 

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’ 

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly. 

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked. 

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident. 

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’ 

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement. 

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned. 

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in  the morning to sort out admin for the cafe. 

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless. 

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed. 

/

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa. 

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night. 

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.  

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry. 

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it. 

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’ 

With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

-

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

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

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

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

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

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[lucienarcheron]

That Single Thread of Gold [ Elucien ]

Prompt: Inspired by @eospaint lovely elucien piece here. I went a little nuts in the tags of it but then couldn't contain it and had to write this little fic! I love writing elucien being caught up in their awkward feelings stage. I hope you enjoy! | AO3

He told himself it was for the best if he didn't see her this time. It was almost always awkward. Tense. Lucien could do without the stress of their uncomfortable interactions this visit; he was here to see Feyre, after all. He had given Feyre enough notice that she would inform Elain and there would be no need for them to cross paths. They had no need to see each other, especially when she had clearly never expressed the desire to see him anyway. 

So Lucien sat and waited in Feyre’s living room, let in by one of the twins. He sat and waited and tried not to let the crumpled pieces of his stupid heart hope. Tried not to set himself up for disappointment. His fingers drummed on his knees as he glanced towards the half open door, waiting for his friend to arrive. 

Instead, her scent flooded his senses. 

And then she appeared in the doorway. 

Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as she blinked at him in surprise, almost as shocked as he was that she was standing there. 

Elain hadn’t even meant to stumble into the room. She knew he was coming today – Feyre had given her the heads up but – but something about her had been different today. Today felt different and she wasn’t sure why. Normally, Elain had no desire to meet him and allow herself to feel all the things she did whenever he was close. Normally, she was very good at being a coward and avoiding him. 

But today…that tug of the bond had pulled her into the room before she could stop it or realize what was happening.

She stood by the door and blinked, then blinked again. Elain hadn’t even realized he was already here.

Lucien stood immediately and as anticipated, the expected awkwardness unfurled between them, quickly followed by that strained tension.

Touch. Taste. Claim.

Lucien fisted his hands by his side and instead bowed graciously, murmuring, “My lady.” 

He said nothing more as his mate watched him, a muscle flexing in his jaw at her gaze, because here she was staring at him like she had no idea what to do with him and Lucien felt heat rise in his body. He swallowed, then cleared his throat and casually said, “I’m here to see Feyre. It seems she’s running a little late.”

“Oh.” is all Elain could think to reply and a flicker of emotion passed his expression quicker than she could read it. She licked her lips, her hands fisting in the folds of her dress and Elain couldn’t help but catalog every inch of him; she normally didn’t allow herself to look at him for too long and Elain wasn’t sure what it was this time around compelling her to take him in. 

Was it because it had been a while since she’d seen him? Was it the lack of sleep? Was it the thread of gold that chafed at her whenever he was in the general vicinity? He always seemed to handle himself so well around her despite what Elain had heard about the mating bond doing to males; he always handled himself so well.

She wished he’d yell at her, if only once. So she had a reason to actually avoid him. So she had a reason to resist him, to be justified in cowering. 

But no. He was always so polite.

Realizing a few moments had passed and she hadn’t said anything, Elain cleared her throat and said, “I’m not sure when Feyre will be back.”

Lucien tried not to fidget beneath her gaze despite the urge to shift on his feet. She’d never looked at him so directly before. It was unnerving him but Lucien didn’t let himself hope. He squashed down any possible emotions he could feel and instead nodded. “I understand. I’ll take my leave then.” he said and gave her a thin smile. “She knows where to find me.” 

He didn’t allow himself another word and instead, took a step aiming to leave but – but then Elain took a step towards him and he froze. 

All her senses went on high alert as Elain realized that she too had paused in that half step. A half step she had taken towards him before – long ago. Her eyes widened slightly and she watched as Lucien’s brows furrowed, his body strained as her pulse quickened beneath her skin, her heart pounding.

Lucien tilted his head, straightening, her reaction confusing him. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked tightly. 

And it was Elain’s turn to swallow because she didn’t know. Was there something else he could help her with? She hadn’t been alone with him in – in a long while. She had made sure of it.

She went out of her way not to actively think about him, not to have him in her mind so he wouldn’t follow her in her dreams the way he did anyway on so many nights. But now he was here standing in front of her and she wasn't sure what to do with him.

Her pulse was fluttering and Elain wanted to be angry with him even though none of this was really his fault. She wanted to be mean to him even though he didn’t deserve it. She just wanted someone who sees how wretched she feels about it all. She wanted someone to see behind her stupid fake smiles and her distance from him. She wanted someone to understand why.

And the longer she stood staring at him, the more Lucien seemed to read her mind. That single thread of gold between them…he seemed to understand the whirlwind of feelings she was battling and his expression softened for a moment. Like he really did see.

Elain almost hated that even more but she wasn’t even sure why and the thought threatened to release tears she had no business showing in front of him. Her bottom lip trembled for a breath before she straightened and shook her head.

Lucien stood still for a moment then forced himself to take a step then another until he stood in front of her and slowly, held out his hand. Then waited.

Because he could feel her. He could hear her heart and Lucien couldn’t stop himself from trying to bring her comfort in some way. The instincts beneath his skin wouldn't let him walk away when he knew his mate was on the verge of tears, even when Lucien had no idea if he was the reason for them.

This fae life – this mating bond had been thrust on her and the way she had been pretending to adjust since then was one of the main reasons he never pushed. He felt her confusion, her inner turmoil. He knew what it was like to swallow it all and play pretend. The least he could do was allow himself to be the guiding light through the dark for her. Even if he wasn’t sure she’d want that from him. Lucien couldn’t help but offer. 

Elain glanced down at his hand and she felt her throat tighten. They didn’t touch. They rarely even stood so close. Did she want to touch him? She didn’t know what his skin felt like but in her dreams – in her sleep she wondered – she felt like she knew – 

Before she could let herself doubt any further and even as the battle of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, Elain couldn’t help but slowly, carefully slide her hand in his. 

And it felt – it felt –

Elain felt herself take a breath. She waited for the discomfort. For the prickling anxiety that usually haunted her. For the wretchedness to snap at her heels.  

But his hand was softer than she imagined. Strong, calloused – a warrior’s hand but – it didn’t feel bad at all. It felt…better than expected. It was gentle. Warm.

She glanced at him then away, suddenly embarrassed and truly not sure what to do with herself. He was so patient and it only made her feel so much worse about herself. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and yet…

Lucien only held out his other hand and Elain met his gaze as he gave her a small knowing smile.

Elain’s throat bobbed and even as she slid her other hand into his, she whispered, “Why?”

The simple question seemed to make Lucien’s shoulders sag because even to Elain, her one question asked about a hundred more. Why was he still here? Why did he still try with her? Why did she hesitate to even speak with him? Why did she hide? 

Why? Why? Why?

“Because you looked like you needed some comfort.” he said quietly and shrugged. “And I know what it’s like to need a steady hand.” 

And it was like he’d snatched the breath from her throat. 

Had her sisters been right about what a mating bond could do for those blessed with one? About what her mate could do for her? Was it indeed a blessing then? Had she really only been hurting herself with her distance? She had only slid her hand in his, touching him so very lightly and yet…with this simple touch, Elain had found herself willing to stand in this room with him a little longer.

“A steady hand?” she repeated softly and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand seemed involuntary.

“A steady hand and a good friend make all the difference.” he said and hoped his yearning wasn’t too obvious as she met his gaze again. 

“A good friend?” she repeated once more and the corner of his mouth lifted, the movement highlighting his scar as he nodded.

“Indeed.”

A friend. 

The thought seemed to hit Elain so suddenly and the sheer longing of it almost overwhelmed her. 

A friend. 

She needed one more than she could put into words and Elain could only stare at her mate. The rapid beating of her heart seemed so loud in the silence between them but for once, it was a comfortable silence. 

Comfortable enough that Elain found herself asking so very quietly as roses bloomed on her cheeks, “Do you happen to know any good friends available?”

His lips twitched and Lucien was sure the rapid beating of his own heart now matched hers as he answered in that same quiet tone, “I daresay, I have the perfect person in mind.” 

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

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[jinwoosungs]

{ 157 }

headfirst for halos.

yandere!jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings + disclaimers: obsessive behavior; dark content; i do not condone this behavior in real life, but in fiction, anything goes.

notes: reading solo leveling and seeing how hard jinwoo goes to protect his family and those that he loves-

it’s not impossible for him to have some yandere tendencies. i’ll try to write this to the best of my abilities, even though this really isn’t my strong suit ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ this will be written for the anon that wishes to see me write for yandere!jinwoo... so i hope this meets your expectations...

{ well, let’s go back to the middle of the day that starts it all | i can’t begin to let you know just what i’m feeling. }

there she is, the girl that stole my heart the moment i first laid eyes on her.

my breathing comes out as uneven gasps, and i was actively struggling to breathe at the mere sight of her. along with my labored breaths, my heart could be felt pumping quickly, racing as my palms began to sweat the more i looked at her-

an almost crazed expression paints my features, eyes never straying too far away from that lovely woman. from my viewpoint, i could see that she was simply enjoying her day with a book in hand, taking casual sips of her coffee while running her hands through her hair.

and oh, how i long to sit across from her! to simply bask in her radiance while listening to the gentle sweetness of her voice...

but not yet.

i cannot approach such a perfect goddess just yet.

i still have not reached my full potential.

so, i'll simply stand right here, hidden within the shadows with my hood pulled over my face. from this point onwards, i will never allow my goddess to leave my sights-

"wait for me, my love."

{ ... }

the day sung jinwoo had confessed his feelings for you was the day you had labeled as being the best in your life.

after your meeting with the association's chairman, jinwoo had waited for you all while donning an expensive, black suit. in his hands was a bouquet of red roses, signifying his true intentions as he gifted you the precious blooms with a single statement.

"i am deeply in love with you, please, tell me that you'll be mine."

you thought nothing of the sheer desperation heard in his voice, finding yourself becoming captivated by the mere sight of him. and truly, could anyone really blame you for being so starstruck at the sight of him?

here was this perfect specimen of a man, with features that could rival any idol, and a body that was sculpted to perfection thanks to the many battles he had faced. neat locks of ebony hair falls perfectly across his face, with his full lips tilted up in an unassuming smile (let's not forget that adorable blush, too!)

within seconds, you held the bouquet of roses close to your chest while accepting his confession.

and just a few moments later was when you found yourself immediately brought into jinwoo's embrace. a gasp escapes from your lips as it felt as though he were crushing you to his chest-

like he wanted to somehow meld your body together with his-

your slight cry of pain was what ultimately makes jinwoo let go of you, eyes glowing a startling purple hue while looking down at your arms to see the roses he had purchased for you ruined as the thorns managed to pierce through the skin of your arms.

you swore you could never forget the look of utter devastation seen within his eyes, his apologies being repeated over and over again before taking the broken bouquet and smashing it to the ground with his feet.

"no no no, this was supposed to be the perfect day! the roses were meant to convey my deep and passionate love for you, but it ended up hurting you- i need to get rid of it, need to get rid of anything that harms you-"

by the end of his panicked rants, you were the one that had to calm him down, promising that you could heal yourself and that such a minor injury was no problem at all. you could see the look of pure relief reflected in his gaze as he squeezes your body to his chest once more, embracing you while standing over a broken bouquet of roses.

despite how strange it was, you were truly staring at him through rose-colored lenses, thinking nothing of it.

now that you were together with him for roughly 6 months now, you began to notice tiny details pertaining to jinwoo and his behavior when it came to you.

for starters, you had only been dating for a month when he practically demanded that you move in with him, successfully convincing you to terminate your lease with your current apartment while seducing you with promises of financial stability and a large penthouse to share with him.

"sarang, i know that you're a capable healer, but your earnings are no match for mine! please, let me take care of you."

despite not even dating for a year, you moved in with him anyways, allowing jinwoo to further spoil you.

along with his constant presence, you realized one other detail-

now, jinwoo owned a journal of some sort, seeming to write in that thick notebook on a near daily basis.

during the times you had seen him before you began dating, jinwoo had never once kept a diary. he appeared calm, cool, and collected, with his status as korea's latest s-rank hunter putting him to nearly famous heights. due to his growing fame, you figured he had no time to do such a mundane task.

yet now, without fail, he would never cease writing so furiously within the journal, only slamming the pages shut and stopping when you would walk into the room. you had a sneaking suspicion he was writing about you, but each time you asked about it, he would simply harden his gaze and give you a scowl.

"with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you. am i not allowed the privacy to write down my own thoughts?"

his biting words nearly makes the tears stream down your face, your apologies coming out into broken syllables. upon realizing that he has hurt your feelings, jinwoo would push himself away from the table, leaving behind his journal before comforting you by taking you in his arms.

"i'm sorry, i'm so so so sorry, your monarch didn't mean to make you cry. forgive me, my love?"

being comforted by his warmth and blinded by the sheer love you still had for him, you merely nodded your head in response, accepting his kiss as the gesture erased all of your thoughts pertaining to his journal.

and that was how your days typically went with your boyfriend.

he would take you out on dates and spoil you with gifts-

each time you were scheduled to attend a raid, he would take over and finish each dungeon solely on his own without even giving you and your team a chance-

and when nightfall came (when jinwoo believed you had fallen asleep), he would continue to write (with a strange fervor) within the pages of his journal until the early hours of the morning.

it wasn't until now that you decided to do something about your growing curiosity.

jinwoo was currently away on what you could only deem as a 'business trip.' the american branch of the hunter's association had reached out to him, and he would be gone for roughly a week-

leaving you alone within the confines of the penthouse.

your eyes were staring blankly at the television screen, not really paying attention to the show that was currently being aired. instead, your heart was pounding with anxiety, trailing your eyes towards the bedroom.

within your shared master bedroom, you were aware of the desk jinwoo kept against the wall, being filled with various paperwork and checkbooks that kept track of his earnings as a hunter-

and settled inside the desk was a locked compartment that you were certain his journal was kept hidden. you always saw the key to the drawer somewhere close to his body as an extra precaution to make sure that you would never be able to read its contents while he was away.

but truly, you were nothing if you didn't have some tenacity.

clasped within your hands were two needles that were going to serve as your tools for picking the lock within jinwoo's desk (and you could only hope that whatever shadow soldier he had placed within your shadow wouldn't alert him.)

you knew of the risks that came with unlocking the drawer-

however, you could not stop yourself.

with a determined expression, you swiftly head towards your room, turning on the lights before marching towards jinwoo's desk. kneeling before it, you place the two, slender needles within the keyhole all while gently maneuvering it-

you bring the needles closer together within the keyhole-

then proceed to turn it around just a little bit more-

only to let out a surprised gasp upon hearing something click.

the two needles remain rooted in place when you managed to open the drawer, seeing jinwoo's diary settled within the deep confines of its space. as your hands lean down to grab it, the sudden memory of his ice cold gaze and voice dripping with fury stops you-

with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.

your breathing comes out as labored, with your heart felt twisting just the tiniest bit in anxiety-

but sadly, your curiosity had won, taking over as you extracted the diary from the safety of the drawer before opening the cover to its first page-

making you regret it instantly.

for what lay before you was pure and utter darkness-

may 6, 16:41 she's mine. she's finally mine! the woman i have longed for- the woman who has saved me when i was a mere e-rank hunter accepted my flower and my love. now she is mine to hold. mine to love. mine to cherish for all eternity. my heart feel so happy, so free. today is truly the best day of my life. SHE'S FINALLY MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE....

june 7, 12:42 i asked my soulmate to move in with me today, yet felt ANNOYED at the slight hesitance in her gaze. she has no right to refuse me! here i am, spoiling her with everything she could possibly want and need, yet she still wants to live in a space AWAY FROM ME? unacceptable. i refuse to tolerate her defiance. if she loves me, she'll cut off her lease and be with me. only i can give her what she wants- ONLY I CAN GIVE HER WHAT SHE NEEDS. despite my anger that was felt mounting, i manage to calm down and speak to her with my normal tone, making sure that it was honey sweet while coaxing her, promising her that i will take care of her and provide her everything that she needs. and oh, i truly am so lucky! she agreed to move in with me by the end of the day. life cannot get any better than this.

june 9, 0250 i couldn't help myself- the moment she lay in my bed, i made love to her. i perfectly slotted myself between the softness of her thighs while basking in her warmth. i can feel myself getting harder at the memory. fuck, i need her. despite taking her for several hours, i can't get enough of her. i'll finish up this entry and place my hands between her slick sweetness- don't worry, i'll make sure she's awake and needy for me so that i can look back at this entry and smile at the memory. I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE

august 18, 20:00 that damn hunter keeps bothering her again, shamelessly flirting with her while constantly begging her to heal him. i bet he wants her. i bet he has thoughts of fucking her. why else does he keep leading her hands toward his shoulder like that? and why are his eyes shining with lust for her like that? i'm going to have to teach him a lesson- after all, my love doesn't know any better, so there's no way i could ever punish her. it's my duty to protect her. to save her from all men that wish to use her- ah, he's here. i'll end my entry for now.

after reading those few entries, your head began to spin, recalling each of those days with perfect clarity. after those entries, jinwoo seemed to lose all coherent thoughts, spending the next hundred of pages detailing your every activity-

from how you slept-

to what you wore-

even going down to such minuscule details like what you had for your meals and what you were constantly doing marked by the hours-

and now, you had context for the sudden disappearance of the hunter you had healed all those months ago-

nausea was felt coursing through your veins as you shoved the journal away from you, running into the bathroom as you threw up the contents of your breakfast and lunch into the porcelain toilet. even when your stomach was emptied of its contents, you kept on dry heaving, trying to get rid of the sourness felt deep inside of you.

time passes seemingly in a sluggish manner, with you flushing the toilet before crawling out of the bathroom. when you tried to stand back to your full height, a wave of dizziness hits you-

but one thought still remains-

i need to get out of here!

those words were what ultimately pushes you forward, with your uneven breaths filling at the air as your feet pounded against the floors, about to reach the front door when a sudden shift was felt in the air.

"i knew that it was best for me to save my shadow exchange for moments like this."

a silent scream escapes from your parted lips when jinwoo suddenly appears before you. he simply holds your arms tightly within his hands, not even using his full strength when he manages to fully apprehend you.

tears stream down your face as you actively fought against him, but to no avail...

all you managed to do was further tire yourself out, slumping back down to the floors as jinwoo coos at you, using his full weight against you while bearing you down against the cold, hardwood floors.

"it's okay... it's okay... i'm not mad at you for reading my most private thoughts. in fact, i WANTED you to read them someday! that way, you will know the full extent of my pure love and devotion to you!"

your tears were trailing down your face in cascades now, the sobs wracking through your body with such visceral and potent fear that violent tremors began taking over your form from beneath him. yet still, jinwoo keep staring down at you with those glowing, violet gaze, never once looking away from you.

"you're mine..." he says your name in a bit of a drunken haze, "it doesn't matter how you feel about me now, because i'm never letting you go!"

crazed laughter echoes throughout the area, with jinwoo drowning out your sobs and cries for help by kissing your lips deeply-

in mere seconds, the rose-colored lens had finally shattered the moment you tasted something coppery and bitter from within his lips...

a.n. - while re-reading solo leveling, the panel used as the preview of my story genuinely scared me, which was what further solidified mine and everyone else's belief in the yandere potential he had 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 13: …because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

The special day arrives.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art by @lirotation

Ban stared at the gowns laid before her. There were three, in contrast to Astarion’s four suits. He’d hired several painters to sketch out portraits, some in the days before the event and some on the day itself. Today.

The maid braiding her hair tugged at a strand a little too tightly, but she barely noticed. On the opposite end of the room, Gale entered.

”Ah. Ban.” He nodded. “Just picking up the suits.” He reached for them, hanging from a coatstand near the doorway, but had to pause to shove away the silver-curl-topped head that threatened to poke through the door. “No peeking, Astarion! Don’t make me put up wards!”

Ban stifled a laugh as she heard a low growl, a chuckle, and then the sound of steps stalking away.

”He’s impatient,” Gale grinned, finally gathering all four ensembles in his arms. “But you already knew that.”

”You’d think he wouldn’t be, considering we’ve seen each other in these outfits before.” She remembered posing for portraits, having to hold poses stiffly - not a new occurrence, but they’d worn these outfits for them. It had felt… odd, seeing herself in wedding finery, white silks and embroidered fabrics. She was more comfortable with wearing more extravagant clothing now, but some of these outfits were well beyond what she was accustomed to. She’d imagined marrying someone, of course, but she’d figured it would be one of her father’s arranged events - a son of some fellow merchant or someone of import. Never had she considered it would be someone she’d actually love.

Not until the nautiloid, she supposed. She brought the old fantasy to mind.

Astarion in a crisp white suit, the color matching his hair. He’d smile at her, waiting for her as she walked down the aisle. The sun would shine on both of them somehow, but the tadpole would be gone - how this would be possible, she’d never thought to consider. He’d beam, his fangs making an appearance as she approached, and he’d offer her his hand, which she would take. She would be the happiest woman in Faerûn.

Another tug on her hair, and Ban sighed, opening her eyes. Their wedding would be at sunset, which meant a whole day of not seeing each other. The last time they hadn’t been glued to each other’s side was - she brushed the thought away.

Irrelevant. It will never happen again.

She instead allowed her eyes to gaze into the mirror, watching herself. She was still in her silken robe, a rich royal purple, but her eyes were locked onto her own. Still black, miraculously. Still her. She absently opened her mouth, a finger pulling her lip up to see her fangs for the first time. They weren’t anything impressive, and she sighed, letting go of her lip.

The maid doing her braids looked at her in the mirror. “You are still lovely, madam. Even if you are…” she trailed off.

Ban chuckled nervously. “I never was. But thank you.”

“That most certainly isn’t what our lord thinks,” the maid said amusedly. She resumed her work and left Ban to ponder her words.

Gale walked in to find Astarion preening in front of a mirror, styling his hair. He wordlessly hung the suits one by one. The to-be-groom seemed perfectly level, fingers carefully raking through and arranging the silver curls into their usual perfectly-coiffed style, but Gale could see the slight tremor in his hand.

“How is she doing?” His eyes remained fixed on his reflection, his voice calm with only the faintest tremble. “I need to remind her to clasp the back of her cape properly, else the whole thing hangs off-center. There are six buttons she has to do; three on each side. One of them is rather tricky - the holes are hidden in-”

“She is perfectly fine. Her maids will attend to her clothes. There’s no need to be concerned about a malfunction.” Gale waved him off dismissively, and Astarion sighed.

“Fine. Do you have the rings, at least?”

Gale patted his pocket. “Of course.”

“Be a dear and don’t lose them.”

Gale noted the irritability, but the nervousness behind Astarion’s tone was obvious. “I’ll try not to. If I do misplace them, however, don’t drink me dry, please?”

At Astarion’s irritated huff, Gale laughed and left him with a final quip of, “Don’t fiddle with your hair too much, Astarion, she may change her mind if she sees you with frizz. Positively hideous.”

They were both laughing as Gale exited, closing the door behind him.

They met in the gardens.

She walked down the small steps to see a figure in white, hair shining in the dying light of the sun. He was fidgeting with the buttons on his cuffs, huffing as he struggled to fit the buttons into the holes.

He was turned away from her, and did not notice her approach.

“Astarion?”

Her voice startled him, and he turned to face her. He swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

”Ban. Do you mind-” He held his sleeve up.

She approached him, taking his hand carefully and began to fit the buttons through. As she did she eyed him, meeting his gaze. He offered her a quick smile.

”Thank you.” He drew her close, hands settling around her waist to tug her to him. “I missed you.”

”It’s been…” she frowned, “less than eight hours since we last saw one another.”

”Doesn’t mean I can’t pine for my wife, does it?” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and exhaled, a long, drawn-out release of air that told her all she needed to know. “Even a minute of your absence is excruciating.”

She placed her hands on his back, rubbing gently. “You weren’t missing me. You’re nervous.” He raised his head, eyes narrowed. “Which is perfectly fine,” Ban added quickly before he could get a word in edgewise.

His brows smoothed out and he acknowledged her words with a stiff nod. “That does not mean both could not be true.”

”I guess you’re right.” She gently placed a hand on his cheek, watching the tension melt from his features as he leaned into the touch. “Any second thoughts? You still have time to say no, you know.”

“Of course not.” He scoffed, eyebrows knitting back together. “I disappear for a few hours, and you fill your head with the silliest of notions. Which of us can’t manage mere hours without the other, hm?”

”It was a joke.” She pecked his cheek.

His shoulders sagged and his features softened. “I am aware. It’s simply… difficult, comprehending being…” he threw both hands up, gesturing at them and the garden around them, “here. I never allowed myself the luxury of thinking of having a future at all - let alone this one.”

“Even during our adventuring days?”

Astarion pursed his lips, pensive. “At the start I assumed we would all part ways, or die.”

“Astarion,” Ban frowned, “we were seeing each other!”

“And I thought I was using you,” he answered without hesitating. “Later on there was the threat of Cazador and the Absolute, not to mention the rite itself. I did not have room to consider what life would be past those events.” He frowned and his eyes flicked away. “We’re both painfully aware of what happened after that, of course.”

“My love,” she murmured, the sobriquet slipping from her lips; she realized she never really used them, almost never outside sex. His eyes met hers, widening in surprise and then joy, and quietly chastised herself for not using them more. “I know. We both know. We’re also past that.”

He exhaled. “I am aware.” She could tell he was still tense, whether it be because of the mention of those six months, or the wedding itself. She placed a hand over his breast, felt the hammering there, and sighed.

Leaning forward, and on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Look at me?”

He did so, a chagrined smile on his face. He dipped his head. “Just… nervous.”

“It’ll be fine. Nothing will change. It’s just a ceremony, a soiree, like any other, and that’s all it is. Paperwork. It doesn’t have to matter if you don’t want it to. If that helps calm your nerves.”

Astarion scanned her face, then shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know this isn’t mere theatrics to me. I refuse to belittle it that way.” He took a small, aborted breath. “So little of my life has meant anything. Let this mean something, Ban. Let me be nervous and excited. Let me feel this, because it means everything to me.”

His mind touched hers, disparate thoughts flitting through. Redemption, finally. Joy, that he had been chosen by her, wanted by her. Worthy to be the one waiting as she walked down the aisle. Worthy of being the man she’d bind herself to. Enough.

She smiled, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. “Of course it means something, and of course I want you to feel it as I do. I merely meant, well. If that sort of thinking would help ease your nerves, then it might be useful.” He leaned into her touch, eyes shuttering as his shoulders finally lowered. She drew in close, pressing their foreheads together; she on tiptoes and him bending down to accommodate her.

He exhaled, the warm air rushing over her face. She saw his lips part and kept her peace, waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you,” he finally mouthed, eyes still firmly shut. The hammering beneath her palm quieted some, and she pressed her lips to his.

There were flowers everywhere. Roses of every shade adorned each side of the aisle. The archway that they would stand under was just as she’d envisioned. She had known how it would look, had arranged everything with the florists, but seeing it all in its full glory as she peeked through a window sent a thrill down her spine.

Everyone she knew and loved was there, mingling as they prepared to take their seats - everyone save one. He was sequestered away, just as she was, in preparation for the ceremony. She caught a quick glimpse of Karlach fidgeting with her dress and Halsin looking uncomfortable in an old suit.

There was a knock at the door. She called out to an invitation to come in and it opened, revealing Wyll.

“The blushing bride.” He held out his arms and Ban stood for a tight hug.

As Wyll pulled away she looked out at the crowd, watching as they began to take their seats. “Who knew, hm?”

He stood beside her, crossing his arms. “Who knew, indeed.” He caught her gaze and offered a smile. “Shadowheart filled us in on everything that happened. A lot passes you by when you’re stuck in Avernus.”

“I don’t doubt that. Have you talked to Astarion?”

“A little, this morning.” Wyll ran a hand over a horn. “He seemed glad that I approached him, but his mind was elsewhere. I don’t blame him.”

“He’s happy you’re all here,” Ban offered. “I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d get to see you two again after the reunion.”

“In much happier circumstances, too,” he nodded. “We’re glad to be here. Perhaps the next wedding will be ours.”

Ban blinked twice. “Does Karlach know?”

He shook his head. “It won’t be anytime soon, but closer than she and everyone else thinks. I figure with our lives being so full of danger, she might want some time to settle after we’ve fixed her heart.”

“Well, if you need anything,” she said, clapping his shoulder, “you can always ask me. Or Astarion, for that matter.”

Wyll offered her another shy smile. “I’ll go ahead. Tell everyone to prepare. Shadowheart will come for you when it’s time.”

She nodded and Wyll left, leaving her to her thoughts. Not that there were any other than the present, the seconds seeming to tick by extremely slowly. Her mind wandered aimlessly, refusing to focus on any one thing for very long in an attempt to avoid thinking of how nervous she was starting to feel.

Ban had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like mere seconds later when a bouquet was pressed onto her hands. Numerous people were suddenly checking her hair and makeup one last time and smoothing her dress into place. She took a nervous breath, keeping her eyes fixed upwards as she felt tears begin to pool. Crying would ruin the kohl.

“Take a deep breath.” Shadowheart’s hand on Ban’s shoulder startled her and she jerked, head snapping around to lock eyes with her friend.

“Is… Is it time?” Ban shuffled nervously, making sure to not step on the train of her gown.

“He’s waiting for you.” Shadowheart gathered most of the train, and they made their way out of the room. As they approached the main garden Ban swallowed; she could hear the music increasing in volume with every step.

She stopped in her tracks, Shadowheart almost tripping over the dress behind her. “I-” Ban turned to face her.

“This is it,” she choked out; tears filled her eyes and she blinked, trying to not let them fall. It shouldn’t matter, she told herself. It was a trite ceremony, and they were already eternally bound. She could think about the significance of it all later, when there were less eyes on her.

But she remembered his words, remembered him asking her to let it matter. She wanted to touch his mind, but they had agreed not to.

No cheating, he’d told her, after they’d had their final pre-wedding kiss earlier today. I want to feel it the way it was meant to be felt.

She’d understood what he meant. To experience it as if they were not vampires with a mental bond. As if they were just them.

Shadowheart approached her, carefully dabbing her tears away before they could spill. “We’ve faced worse, and you did it all fearlessly. You can do this.”

Ban nodded. “I know. I just…”

Feel it. She took one deep breath.

Shadowheart squeezed her hand one last time. “Walk as soon as your music starts.” She went ahead, taking her place next to Gale to walk down the aisle with him.

She stood there for a painful few minutes, hidden from view by a hedge. The music started, the song she’d picked for herself. Steeling her nerves, Ban took one last breath and walked to the aisle.

The setting sun hit her eyes first, blinding her for a moment. Her vision cleared and she saw the same roses, the same aisles, the same ivy-wrapped archway, but the seats were now full of people watching her. The music wasn’t quiet at all, but it was completely drowned out by her racing heart.

Her eyes locked onto that familiar glint of silver, the crimson of his eyes burning into her even from this distance. He had his hands clasped together, his face carefully neutral, shifting into an uncertain, boyish smile as their eyes met. Time froze. Nothing else mattered. Not Ulder standing by Astarion, not Gale holding the ring box in his hands. Not the music, nor the artists quickly sketching off to the side. Not the scent of roses or the blazing sunset. Not one other thing existed. Just him.

She took a step onto the red carpet. Then another. She could feel the slight drag of the train of her dress, requiring slightly more effort to place one foot in front of the other. She could feel the bite of the heeled shoes, a little tight, on her feet, and the subtle change in her posture to accommodate walking with an elevated heel. The feel of the satin ribbon holding the bouquet together contrasted with the rougher stems of the flowers it bound. The gown’s fabric slid against her body, shifting with every move.

Her mind registered all this, part of her begging to dwell on these trivial sensations, to hide behind her walls again.

We don’t cry. Not in public. Not like this. Not where everyone can see.

Her father’s words. Not hers.

Instead, she allowed herself to feel.

Every step brought her closer to the archway - to him. His smile was slightly wider now, but his eyes were wide and misty. She remembered everything - nights under the shelter of their tent, cuddled by the campfire, the soft press of his lips against her temple. Strong, slender fingers grasping her wrist, tugging her away from whatever trap she had missed in her rush. Those same capable hands undoing the straps of her breastplate, a small huff of annoyance as the armor snagged on her underclothes, tearing them, knowing those same hands would repair them later that same night. The scent of bergamot and rosemary, clinging to her clothes as they parted for the day, something she’d imagined she could still smell even under her armor. The sound of his voice, always the first one she sought out; his thoughts, his quips, even the playful little insults he’d throw her way.

Then more recently, their hands clasped in meetings, sly glances and hidden smirks as they mentally discussed the people they were making deals with. The press of his lithe body against hers as they twirled around the dance floor, leading her effortlessly. The heated kisses, his lips trailing a fiery path from her lips to her breasts, his hands tangled in hers. Breathless moans, whispered promises of eternal love - no longer only promises, but truth. Seeing his face every dawn, reaching across the bed and always finding him there, every time without fail, whether he was watching her or reading a book or sipping tea-

Astarion gave her a small, encouraging nod, and she smiled in return. The tears finally fell, wet as they traced a path down her cheeks, but she was beyond caring. She took a few more steps, bringing her closer to him - to her fate, to everything that had ever mattered and the only thing that ever truly would.

Hers. Hard-fought and almost lost, but hers now, for however long their immortal lives lasted - forever, she vowed, and even beyond.

She stopped. Faced him. He swallowed, his smile fading as he took a step towards her, his hand held out for hers. It was a gesture they’d made countless times, in countless ways - helping each other up in combat, in camp, at breakfasts and dinners and meetings and parties - but this felt like the first time. She placed her hand on his, feeling the skin under hers, smooth and trembling, but still the same. Always.

They stood side by side as Ulder recited the rites. None of it was anything she’d remember, she thought. Her eyes were on him, from the perfectly coiffed hair to the slightly-trembling hands clasped behind his back, to the embroidery on his shoes. She reached out, and to her relief he noticed and responded in kind, even though his eyes never left Ulder. His index finger touched her first, gently tracing the back of her hand. His lips curled at the corner, his eyes crinkling even as his gaze remained ahead. Ban slipped her hand into his and felt him squeeze.

“Do you, Lord Astarion Ancunín, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

For the first time since the ceremony began his eyes moved over her. They were large, wet, and painfully beautiful. He shot her a grin before turning back to Ulder. “I do.” The hand holding hers was cold, and she fought back the urge to reach over and rub warmth back into it.

The same question was leveled at her. She met Ulder’s gaze while he spoke, but made sure her eyes were locked on Astarion’s as she uttered her response. His shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly at her words, eyes flicking downwards for the briefest of seconds, then settling back on her face.

Then Gale approached, the rings kept in a small, ornate box. He opened the lid, offering it up to Astarion, who nimbly took her ring in his hands. He playfully bounced the ring on his knuckle, to the crowd’s delight, then looked at her.

“I am not prone to… long speeches, or poetry, for that matter,” Astarion began, the ring passing between his thumb and index finger as he fidgeted with it. “Nor am I the kind of person who usually appreciates public declarations of love. However, with you I could enjoy anything, and that includes this.”

His hand drifted down, patting his hip anxiously. “You probably weren’t the best leader, likely not even the best companion - I’d wager Wyll wins out over everyone in that regard.”

Ulder laughed; Ban glanced over at Wyll, who gave her a small wink. Astarion continued. “Back then… you tended to make frankly foolhardy decisions - thought with your blade rather than your brain… except when it came to me. With me…” he paused, thinking, “you seemed to think with your heart. Yet another foolish thing to be doing at such a time, darling, but I very much appreciated it.”

“I cared little for you at the start. In truth I didn’t know how to care for anyone, and certainly didn’t think anyone could care for me… despite my dashing good looks.” He huffed out a high-pitched laugh, one she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. He grew somber then, and continued. “But I quickly grew to love you. I grew to treasure every single moment we spent together, from camping out in the wilderness to the most mundane arguments about which vase would match the drapes. We’ve already lived through a lifetime’s worth of tribulations in our time together, but look at us.” He gestured at her and then himself. “We held on to one another, through every challenge. We have worked so hard to be the people we are today. To seize this happiness for ourselves and for one another.”

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the curls as his fingers carded through them. “And while there’s little doubt we’ll run into more trouble, because of course,” he rolled his eyes. “I do so knowing that you will be with me for all of it. Knowing that my every sunrise and sunset will be spent with you. Knowing that…” his breath caught, and Ban squeezed his hand. He swallowed. “that after two centuries… I am finally enough, the way that I am. Perhaps quite a bit more than enough at times, darling,” he chuckled.

Astarion straightened up. “But now that I am enough… I stand here today and I vow to love you forever. For the rest of time, even when the sun burns out and we give ourselves to the night. When we face whatever lies beyond - I vow to love you then too.”

His hand took hers, slipping the ring onto her finger. It did not meet much resistance, the cold metal settling in place easily. They both looked down at it, at how it seemed to belong there, as if it had always been there but just out of sight.

Gale’s movement brought her back to the moment. The box was held out to her, and she took Astarion’s ring. It was larger than hers, heavier, with a slightly thicker band, and with engraving identical to hers. She looked at him and saw the same hunger in his eyes as the day she’d asked him to marry her, that ravenous need clear in the set of his features.

“I wasn’t… born for this. Not for any of it. My life was supposed to be one of quiet subservience, to be what I was raised to be. I left that behind, and then I thought my life would be one of unassuming simplicity. Not… not these gardens. Not this palace, or the journey we all had. Not immortality. Not you.” She bit her lip, a fang catching on it. “I think we were both done a great favor the day the nautiloid took us. It brought me to you, and you to me.”

“The way fate works is something I don’t pretend to comprehend. I don’t think any god looked kindly on us before that day,” she snuck a glance at Withers, who merely nodded, “but neither do I think it was mere chance. We were… meant to be here. Meant to meet, meant to go through everything we did and everything else we will encounter. Each meant for the other,” she added, watching his lips curl as he acknowledged her words.

“You waited far too long for me, while I did not have to wait long at all. There’s no compensation that can make up for all that,” and she shook her head as he opened his mouth, “but I hope that I can at least begin to… I don’t know, ease it.”

She looked down at the ring in her hand. It felt easier to say the words then, without meeting his gaze. “There are not enough words to express the depth of my love for you, and I fear there never will be. I have never been good at baring my heart, but if there was ever a moment to do so anyway it would be this one. I could say I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life, and it would be true, but somehow it fails to express the sheer magnitude of my feelings for you.” She dared glance up to Astarion and was rewarded by an encouraging nod. “I vow from this day on to love you, to cherish you, and to see you. Even when it gets hard, even when it takes work to do so. I promise to do better, as you have done. I shall be your rock, your support, your comfort whenever you need me. Until the sun burns out, and through whatever lies beyond, I am yours. For as long as we exist, I vow to be your home, as you are mine.” She finally met his gaze and thanked herself for not fully looking up sooner. He looked so beautiful.

Astarion held his hand up, his fingers quivering visibly. He was smiling, but it was a bit frozen, almost forced in his anxious excitement. His eyes were too bright and wet, and she realized the trembling wasn’t just his hand but his whole body. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and hide him away from everyone else, to keep him in the shelter of her embrace until his nervousness abated.

She slid the ring onto his finger.

Astarion cleared his throat. “Wrong finger,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. She stammered out a quick sorry, moving the ring from his middle to his ring finger.

The moment the ring slid home, Ulder spoke up. “It is with great honor that I pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Ancunín, you may kiss your beautiful bride.”

Instantly, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her close. He pressed their bodies together, and slipped his hands down, linking them under her ass. He gripped her tightly, lifting her up. She wound her hands around his neck, the silken fabric of his collar pleasant against her skin.

His mouth slotted against hers, his plush lips pressing against her own. Leaning into the kiss, she heard him groan softly as his tongue lapped at her lips, seeking entrance. She opened for him and the approving hum that answered her sent shivers down her spine. The feeling of his teeth catching her lower lip, dragging over it as he pulled gently, elicited a quiet moan from her. The sound of whistling from somewhere in the crowd broke through to her and she finally pulled away, embarrassed. He set her down but didn’t let go of her.

Astarion simpered for the crowd, but his eyes were still damp and round. He offered her his arm and she gratefully accepted, leaning against him as they walked back down the aisle, finally husband and wife.

Astarion sauntered over to where Ban stood in front of the enchanted mirror, fighting with the clasps of her capelet, approaching from behind. “Does my wife need aid?” His hands ran over her shoulders to the clasps.

“Probably,” she huffed. “I had so much trouble having them put on. No one really knows how to do it, other than you.”

They were working on their first outfit change of the day, and she knew there would be more. Astarion had insisted on doing so for some variety in the portraits that would be painted today, but Ban also thought it a good idea to convey a sense of decadence and power. She was beginning to regret the pragmatism in that decision, now that she had to deal with the reality of multiple complex and tedious dress changes in a single evening.

He hummed in response, fingers slipping under the ornamentation to undo the buttons. “At the very least they managed to put it on straight. I was worried.”

“Gale did say as much.”

They both watched their reflections as he easily unbuttoned one side, then did the other, allowing the cape to fall to the floor between them. He leaned forwards, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Do you require more assistance, my love?” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Shivering, she turned. “I wouldn’t say no, but I’m surprised you’re offering. The day isn’t quite over yet, Astarion.”

“Is it not? We’re wedded,” he held up his left hand, ring glinting in the candlelight, “and we have more than two hours before the reception starts. I presume we could steal a few minutes.” He closed in, crowding her, foreheads almost touching. “It wouldn’t take long, surely.”

Ban shook her head, reaching back to begin untying the laces of her dress. “We have portraits to pose for. We don’t have time.” She would have loved to; a month apart ensured her resistance was thin, but in that moment her thoughts were with the wedding arrangements. “As much as I want to-”

The words died in her throat as he moaned in her ear, rolling his hips against her thigh. “Certainly it should be up to me when our game ends, don’t you agree, darling? Ten minutes,” he whispered, “is all I would need.”

“Astarion-”

“Please.”

That word and the needy, aggressive tone in his voice undid the last threads of her restraint. She growled, taking a step back to remove the rest of her outfit. His eyes tracked her every move as she stripped the gown off, shimmying out of it gracelessly, shoving it down to her legs and stepping out of it.

“On that table,” Astarion pointed, and she backed up to sit on its edge. He prowled towards her, eyes dark and very much hungry, still fully clothed. His hands parted her legs roughly as he knelt. Their eyes met and she swallowed.

“Ten minutes, Astarion,” she warned weakly.

A dark bark of amusement answered her. “Trust me. I require less than that.”

His hand made its way up her thigh, fingers dancing playfully. He kissed her knee, eyes still locked onto hers. The other hand wrapped around the back of her knee, fixing that leg in place.

“Be a good girl,” he purred, “and be quiet. We don’t want anyone,” he traced her folds through her underwear, then flicked her clit through the fabric, “hearing us, do we?”

“Or walking in.” She took a quick, cursory look. She was pretty sure the door had been locked so they could change; the likelihood of anyone walking in was low.

He sank his teeth into the meat of her thigh, lapping lazily at the blood that formed, then smirked. His thumb ran circles around her clit, no doubt feeling the wetness beginning to soak through the cloth. “That too.”

Her eyes were glued to him as he began kissing his way up her thigh, fangs scraping her skin. He mouthed at her core, the thin cloth leaving too little and yet too much in between his tongue and her. He drew back a hand to undo the buttons of his suit, but his mouth never left her.

She rolled her hips, an insistent, pleading gesture, one hand wrapping around the side of the table as she bit on the other to stifle a moan. He hooked a finger in her underwear, tugging the fabric aside to bare her glistening folds. Red eyes flicked to her face, and he looked ravenous. “I wager you now agree with my assessment?”

“Probably less than ten minutes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “Just please. Lick me.”

He nodded, his face perfectly neutral, as if they were merely talking about the weather. “I knew you’d come around.” Keeping his eyes on her, he licked her, his tongue laid flat, from her entrance all the way up, making sure to give her a firm flick where she needed it most.

Ban groaned, spreading her legs further, needing more. Astarion obliged, slipping two fingers into her without meeting any resistance. “You’re deliciously wet, darling. How long have you wanted this? Wanted my tongue on you, wanted me - my fingers or my tongue or my cock, any part of me - inside you?”

She bucked, fucking herself on his fingers helplessly. “Too long,” she whispered. “Far too long.”

“Then I shall reward your patience, my love.” Without another word he dove right back between her legs; his hand spread her open, his tongue running circles around her clit before finally wrapping his lips around it and suckling.

She whined, the sensation momentarily overwhelming, but then he shifted into gentle, loving licks. Even that was intense, her hand instinctively lowering over his head, about to fist into his curls, until she remembered they needed to keep them pristine for the reception. She saw his eyes crinkle at her movement, but his mouth and fingers never stopped their work.

His fingers pumped into her faster, curling to hit her spot with every pass. His tongue lapped harder, the delicious friction making her hips move of their own accord, grinding against him. The fingers spreading her open, the naked, sheer desire in those eyes eating up her every reaction, the way his hips moved desperately in rhythm with his fingers, and the tent in his trousers were sights to behold, sights she had not seen in far too long, and it brought her climax barreling towards her.

“Astarion,” she whimpered, his name a quiet supplication upon the altar of his tongue.

He growled, low and deep in his throat, dragging a fang across her clit. The vibration and the slight sting of his fang sent chills racing along her entire body. She fought the urge to arch, to allow her eyes to roll back, wanting to see it. To see him. Their eyes met, and he cockily raised a brow as he gave her one last, hard flick, perfectly timed with a hard thrust of his fingers.

She bit her hand, fangs inadvertently breaking skin, a loud, muffled scream emanating from her as she came. Her hips jerked and Astarion wrapped a hand around her hip, pressing her closer as he lapped up everything she had to give. As she slowly recovered he kept licking, seemingly unwilling to stop. She could still see his erection straining against his trousers, his hips still slowly rocking.

“I… fuck,” she finally managed to say. She put a hand on his shoulder, pushing gently, feeling slightly oversensitive.

Astarion let go, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his face. He wiped his mouth on his cravat, then tugged it off. “Plenty of time to spare, just as I expected.”

Still trembling, Ban barely managed an annoyed glare. She let her eyes stray to the bulge between his legs. “And what about you?”

He looked down, as if noticing his clearly painful erection for the first time. “I think I can wait a little longer.” He adjusted his trousers and took a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “I simply wanted to end your punishment.”

“As for myself,” he drew in close and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, “I figure I have all night, and eternity after that.”

[orangekittyenergy]

Indulgent Desires

(sorry for the repost if you already read/saw this just moving things around)

NSFW Gale Smut Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, masturbation, hand jobs, Gale fluff and some angst but mostly smut, Gale POV, non described Tav (aside from she/her pronouns but no mention of genitals)

Words: 4000

Info: After the orb is stabilized, Gale realizes he can indulge fully in certain pleasures he had to deny before. (Set after they meet Elminster but before the love scene)

Read below or directly on AO3

---

Gale lay in his tent, sleep altogether eluding him, as it often did as of late. Despite his words of reassurance to Tav, he didn't feel nearly as comfortable with the edict from Mystra as he projected. It was one thing to contemplate ones death for so long, but to be faced with the absolute certainty of it was, well, it was something else entirely. He knew this damned orb would ultimately be his demise, and he wasn't lying when he said he was happy he could use his predicament to save everyone. But.... he couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of regret. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? A month ago he felt quite ready for death; he would've leapt at the chance to earn forgiveness, and additionally going out as a hero in the annals of history- what more could one have asked for?

But for one very specific wrench in this acceptance now. Tav. He'd seen the way her eyes flashed as Elminster spoke. Thankfully she was tactful enough to hold her tongue; but he could tell from her clenched jaw it hadn't been easy. She had been curt in her responses but very insistent that this was not the solution and there would be opportunity still to find another way.

When she approached him after to discuss he could almost see the ghost of grief in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what this meant through their conversation. Asking every question she could seemingly think of and explore every avenue. But even as her emotions still flared, her last words echoed in his head.

She had stepped close, placing a hand on his arm gently. Her eyes were brimming with what he thought at the time was anger but as he mused on it, he realized it was something else, something she hid inside that he couldn't place.

"You are not going to blow yourself up, Gale. I won't let you." She said, her voice tense, with a steely resolve that almost cracked through his own carefully crafted veneer of acceptance.

That was hours ago. Now he lay back in his tent, scared and alone - again.

Tav. She had always been there for him. From the very start she showed no hesitation in helping with his condition, always provided him with the utmost care and warmth. When she said they would find another way, she was so certain of it that he almost dared to believe her. After all, if she kept up with the spell lessons he had been attempting to give her, she could certainly take on any foe. With a lurch his mind leapt back to the first time they connected in the weave; the image in her mind, as clear as if it had been reality. It felt like ages ago now but he recalled it as distinctly as if it had happened yesterday. A soft tender kiss. Giving way to eager tongues and warm breath and roaming hands.

Gale sucked in a deep breath, sleep well and truly gone from any corner of his mind as deeper thoughts took hold.

Tav. The way she ambled up to him at the party, her face blushed slightly as she tried to dance delicately around her own flirtations. A coy bite of her lip and twinkle in her eye looking at him, as he finally realized her intentions and was forced, with a heavy heart and a pain in his chest, to turn her away.

Would he get another chance again with her? He thought, he could swear at least, that she still gave him lingering glances before heading to bed each night. Or was that the workings of his own greedy imagination? Their route had turned more perilous than ever and they hadn't had the same chance for any of their usual lighthearted conversations as of late. Exhaustion and battle weariness finally taking over as they succumbed to sleep each night. Each of them really, stumbling to their own tents at night, too weary to make much conversation as they prepared to face a new set of horrors the next day. Tav though, Tav always seemed to make time for conversation, checking in with everyone, and he thought – or hoped - specifically him, before heading to bed herself.

His body stirred with a delicious sensation before his mind even realized what was happening. It was such a strange, distant, but familiar feeling. Desire like this. As if something from a half forgotten dream. The tingling started in his gut and before he knew it had settled into his very core and he felt a stirring in his cock.

Once he realized what it was his first instinct, as always, was to push it away; desires like that were previously vastly overshadowed by the pain of the orb. And even when the orb felt sated, he was still always too worried about it's condition and the consequences of indulging in such self pleasure to tempt fate. Even once his feelings for Tav had taken hold in his mind, his situation and their current predicament left no room for any hint of such a pleasure. But his body still stirred. He was half hard before he fully realized; the orb was sated. Truly this time. He felt no pain, no angry rumblings, no lingering worry about accidentally setting anything off. Nothing now holding him back from any such gratification.

Without fully intending too, he let his mind drift back to Tav. A rushing flood of memories of her that he had pushed away all coming back at once. Her exposed thigh as Shadowheart healed a nasty cut on her leg. A chance encounter in the river by the Grove catching a glimpse of her naked back and wet hair. Her bending over to search her pack, her tunic dropping scandalously low. Her eyes, flashing brightly at him at the end of each battle, checking to see that he was safe. The thing that truly aroused him though, was the memory of just earlier that night. Her delicate touch on his arm. Her caring eyes searching his. Her resolve that this wouldn't be the end.

It wasn't anger in her eyes, he realized, it was compassion. Dare he think….love? Her eyes had streaked with internal fire at her deep desires for him, he thought. Or was that his own lust and his now throbbing cock speaking? Safely alone in his tent, did it truly matter?

He reached down, tentatively at first, still not sure how this would go, and unlaced his trousers. He pulled up his tunic a touch as well and eased his hardness out of his pants. He was more grateful now than ever at the brilliant foresight and blessings that they had their own tents to retreat to at the end of the night.

Mind firmly set on Tav, the look of her gazing at him fondly, he ventured his hand down again, wrapping his palm slowly around his own length. The immediate sensation was almost too much to handle, his mind frying as if he'd been shocked at finally being able to indulge in such base urges. In his mind, Tav leaned close, her lips hovering above his before crashing together. His hand firmly on himself he gave a gentle pump up and down, trying to savor the sensation.

It wasn't indulgent; he told himself, sucking in a sharp gasp at the feeling of his warm palm as he continued to slowly stroke his length. If Tav did care for him as much as he dared to dream, he couldn't have his first time in ages with a woman, let alone a woman he felt so strongly for, end so quickly. And it surely would with how pent up he was. This was merely preparation. With just a minor hint of indulgence.

He imagined himself and Tav as they continued to explore each other's mouths, pulling away only briefly to undress. He pieced together how he thought she would look like naked from the brief glances he had gotten, letting his own imagination fill in the gaps. It wasn’t even a clear image, but he knew she was immaculate.

He felt a dribble of his own seed leaking out of the tip and paused a moment there, giving his tip a few soft squeezes and pumps before moving back down, spreading his own precum across his cock as he pumped harder. His base instincts taking over, pumping and feeling and squeezing without thinking; getting reacquainted with the veins and ridges of his own cock. Finally allowing himself to give in fully to this experience.

He pressed his lips together hard, determined not to make a noise aside from the inevitable rustling of fabric. But as his fantasy Tav peeled off the last layers of her clothes and approached him once more, his strokes picked up the pace again and he felt a groan escape his lips. Had he any foresight on how this night would go he would've thought to take preparations, cast silence or darkness or anything to allow him to fully invest himself into this. But as it was, he was too far gone now to cast a thing and far too deep in his fantasy to stop now.

In his mind again he whispered sweet nothings in Tav’s ear as he explored her newly naked body with roaming hands. Imagining all at once that it was her hand wrapped carefully around his aching erection. Her hand furiously pumping up and down. Her hand that twisted slightly now as it pumped, adding another carefully crafted level to his pleasure.

"Tav." He couldn't help but moan out, his mind blurring the line between fantasy and reality at these practically new sensations. How long had it been since he felt such flesh on flesh contact? Even his own. He began to thrust his hips up slightly as well, adding to the pace of his trembling hand, growing delirious with his evolving fantasy. He could picture her face so clearly, lips partly slightly, eyes shining at him, picturing her as he thrust his cock upwards into his fist with reckless abandon. He started to feel a pull in his very core, a feeling he was all too familiar with, albeit not under these circumstances. A hot warmth building in his balls as he continued to stroke himself furiously. His body close to reaching that delightful peak.

"Tav..." he groaned again; his own indulgent desires clogging any leftover sense of caution. He wanted to hold on, wanted to make this fantasy last, but was too close to the edge. He would spill his own seed calling her name and it would be the most welcome relief from all the built up tension he had felt.

Just as he was ready to succumb, he heard an unmistakable shuffle outside his tent. A footstep. The sound of someone moving. He froze, his blood running cold. How could he not notice a noise earlier? His pulse throbbed in his ears as he strained to hear in the new silence, his fantasy lost, his fist still paused halfway down his cock. An aching moment passed and he wondered if he had imagined it.

"Gale?" Her tender voice called through the folds on his tent.

A string of curses he didn't even know he knew flew through his mind as he released his hand and struggled to compose himself enough to answer. He frantically started to tuck himself away, his stubborn erection refusing to waiver even at the thought of being caught.

"Ahem...um..yes, Tav?" He replied, his voice hoarse. The woman he was just furiously masturbating to was standing outside his tent; the gods truly had cursed him, he thought.

"Can I come in?" She said quietly and he realized, through the fog and panic it must still be late; the others asleep. Why was she here now? Did she hear him? Had he been louder than he thought?

"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat again, successfully tucking his still hard cock away and sitting up, hoping to hide the obvious nature of his predicament with his loose tunic. You fool, why didn't you just not answer or send her away? He chastised himself. But even as the words entered his mind he realized he couldn't do that. Not to her. He had sent her away too many times already. He wouldn’t do it again. Not with their time left together so short.

After a moment she ducked into his small tent, the subsequent crack in the fabric allowing the campfire to provide a small amount of illumination inside.

"Sorry," she said, a little louder now that she was securely inside, "I hope I'm not.... bothering you." She finished and Gale wondered again if she had heard him.

"No, no, you could never be a bother to me." He sucked in a quick breath, trying again to regain composure and still his rapidly beating heart. "I wasn't even sleeping. Just laying here with my thoughts." Well, he mused, it wasn't a total lie. Tav seemed to hesitate before speaking again.

"I just, I felt bad...leaving things like I did. I didn't want you to think that I don't respect your choice, or your feelings, because I do." She said quickly and edged closer. In spite of the situation he couldn't help but smile, feeling touched that she was worried about how she might have spoke with him. In the dim light, he scooted to the side, allowing her room should she wish to sit on his bedroll.

She took the invitation and stepped forward, taking a seat next to him on the bedroll. His bed. His bed where moments before he was pleasuring himself to her visage. He quietly shook the thought from his head and again tried to calm his rapidly increasing heart rate. She obviously came here to say something important to him. Fully settled, he turned more to face her, still acutely aware of his blood rushing through his veins and offering silent thanks for the darkness to hide his still very active erection.

“I…” He started and paused, taking a thick swallow. “I’ll have you know, your words were of great comfort to me. I didn’t once think you didn’t heed my choice, difficult as it is, and I truly...do appreciate how much you care.” He managed out. He found himself suddenly cursing the darkness, where seconds before he had thanked it; he wanted to see her face now, see how she was looking at him.

He sensed her movement before even being able to see it, and felt her reach up and cup his cheek. He leaned his face into her hand, nuzzling her palm for a second, wondering if he was still dreaming.

“Gale….I just...I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered and he could feel her breath on his face and realized she was close enough to see even in the low light. He wanted to speak again, reassure her, offer the same words of comfort he soothed himself with before but couldn’t find them now.

Before he could come up with any words at all he saw her face move closer and felt her lips ghost against his. Now he was certain he must be dreaming; lost in a fantasy so stark and deep he hoped he would never wake up. Pushing aside lingering hesitation or worry he had been struck mad, already in the thick of the moment, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against hers and for the second time in the night, feeling like he could burst from the contact.

There was no further discussions or hesitation, their mouths both parted eagerly and he couldn’t tell who slipped a tongue in first but just as quick as it started they were kissing deeply and passionately, devouring each other with their mouths. Months of desire and waiting dissolving into their kiss.

Tav slid her hand off his cheek and onto his chest, giving him a gentle push of encouragement to lay down. His heart again beat a heavy and rapid pulsing in his chest as he leaned back, head positively spinning at the new development. He half-expected her to crawl on-top of him as he stretched his legs out, but found her sliding her body down next to his. He turned his head to the side to meet hers, aching at the momentary lapse in contact and desperate to get his lips on hers again; now that he had felt the real thing there was no going back.

She lay on her side next to him as their lips met again and he tried to savor the feeling and not think too hard about all the steps that led him to this specific moment. He felt her push her hips against him, angling her body half onto his and hooking her leg over his thigh. Her hand roved downwards, crossing his thrumming chest and pausing just above his navel.

Gale took a sharp breath in through the kiss, realizing where her hand might be heading, but making no move to stop her. As she edged her hand down she finally broke away from the kiss, allowing him to suck in a few ragged deep breaths he so desperately needed. Tav pressed her wet kisses into his cheek instead and he thought he felt her smiling into his skin with each kiss.

Her hand finally reached its purchase, his unavoidable still aching cock yearning to be freed again after being so painfully denied release. She tentatively gave it a stroke through the fabric he had hastily tucked it back into. Gale felt a powerful shudder roll through his whole body and couldn’t help but let a soft moan escape his lips.

He hadn’t even had the chance to lace back up and Tav made quick work of the loose fabric and tangle of laces and pulled his cock back out of the edge of his pants. She nestled her face into her neck, resting her head half on his shoulder as he turned his head back to face upwards, hoping he didn’t cum at the barest of her touches.

His breath hitched in his chest as she finally wrapped her own warm palm around him, her soft touch holding him gently and feeling his pulse beneath her. As indulgent as his own flesh was, as good as it felt to merely imagine her palm on his cock; it paled in comparison to the actual feeling of her. As she started to ease her fist gently up and down him he bit down hard on his lip and tried to focus his brain on not releasing that same instant, the same lingering feeling still simmering in his core.

Gale was well trained in concentration, whether on the battlefield or in practice, he had plenty of experience exerting a certain level of mental fortitude and holding himself steady. But he quickly realized that holding concentration on a spell and staving off this burning feeling bubbling within him were two entirely different skill sets.

Tav leaned her head in again to give his neck a quick nibble and started pumping her hand up and down him in earnest. He leaned his head back towards her again, wanting to feel her her lips on his again, even if they were trembling, but he wanted her as close as she could be as she finished him. Decorum fully lost under this fantasy become reality, he felt himself thrust his hips upwards with her hand, fucking her fist with a greedy need that surprised himself.

She swiped her hand over his tip, collecting the cum gathering there and gave it a quick flourish of attention with a playful squeeze and he knew he was done for. Their lips grazing, breath mingling, he felt his body again reach its limits. The heat that had been building within shot upwards in divine explosion.

Gale couldn’t help but cry out, letting loose a few strangled chokes as he came in her hand, spilling his seed on her fist and loose pants. He reached his hand over his chest, grabbing at her cheek, holding her close while his body shuddered and the delightful waves of pleasure crashed through him, still letting loose a few final moans as his cock stopped pulsing. 

His chest pounded hard, but for the first time in a long time, it was a pleasurable feeling as a level of relaxation he didn’t think was possible anymore took hold of his body. Every inch of him seemed to calm and ease and he felt like he could melt into a puddle in the bedroll beneath them.

Tav released his softening sticky member and lay her hand on his thigh and he suddenly realized the mess he made.

“Oh, let me get -” He started to move, aiming to grab the towel and bowl he had used to wash up with earlier. But Tav held him down with her body, nestling herself further against him and rubbing her nose against his neck with a soft sigh.

“Don’t worry. Lets just lay here a moment.” She said softly into his neck. Gale grinned like a fool at that, his body still pulsing dimly with the rush of his release, at her care, at her words, at her….love. They adjusted themselves so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, bringing her further into him.

They lay in content silence, relaxation still swimming through Gales body. He could feel Tav’s soft breath on his neck and it felt like a wordless lullaby. To be holding her so close like this, it was a wonder he couldn’t begin to wrap his dizzy head around. Her breathing slowed and for a moment he thought she might have fallen asleep until he felt her mouth open against his neck.

“I have to admit...I actually did come here to just talk.” She said. Gale pulled his head back to try to look at her and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He could swear in the dim light he could make out a small smile on her face. For once he found himself at a loss of words and gaped at her a moment; she did hear him, he realized with a lurch. If the evening hadn’t have worked out as it did and if he wasn’t still so high from his lingering orgasm he might have had the good sense to feel embarrassed. But instead he just returned her smile and gave her another kiss before settling his head down, finding himself unable to focus on any one thought at a time, exhaustion and release finally taking over his body.

Tav lay back down and settled in next to him, letting out another content sigh into his neck. As sleep was about to take him a thought did strike out to him amid the brain fog and hit him like a dagger. How could he be so selfish? He could never just take pleasure like that without return. His senses must have fled him entirely. He raised head again, quicker this time and caused her own head to jerk up.

“Tav. I...what about you? I cant just lay here in bliss, while you remain…. what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t-” His rising panic at the thought of not offering her the same level of pleasure was overtaking his ability to form words. A wide visible smile spread across her face as he rambled and she leaned in to kiss him into silence.

“I am perfectly content, laying here with you if you’ll allow me.” She murmured as sleep seemed to tighten its grip on her. He swallowed away his words, for once too tired to form an argument back and gave her another kiss and a nod before they settled back down again.

“Besides…” Tav breathed out heavy on his neck. “We have time. You can make it up to me next time.” She finished barely above a whisper and he felt her body relax against his.

Gale stewed on that a moment, fighting against sleep. He would. He would make it up to her. For this; for everything. His sleepy mind raced, thoughts giving way to dreams as he conjured up ideas of all he would do to, and with her, to show her his feelings and love and, of course, ever the gentleman, repay her for tonight.

[astroyongie]

What are you choosing ?

Note: hey everyone! This is  little something that I have constructed in a way for you to see if you really know yourself but also as a way to heal and understand your inner desires and needs. This is a part of what we call shadow working, hopefully it will help. you are free to do this quietly, or if you want to share with me, feel free to do so <3

How it works?: please choose one option between the two and try to argument within yourself why you chose that 

This or that ?

Question 1

an apology from your father 

a hug from your mother

Question 2

being loved

being able to love

Question 3

your father choosing family over work

holding your childhood pet one last time 

Question 4

a good night kiss

your hair getting brushed and braided

Question 5

the ability to forgive yourself 

finally being heard and understood in your family 

Question 6

“i am proud of you” from your mother

“i love you” from your father

Question 7

reading you favorite childhood book for the first time

a letter from that one friend you one day never heard from again

Question 8

crying in your mother’s arms 

yelling at her all the things you were too afraid to speak out loud

Question 9

not feeling constantly lonely

 not feeling constantly misunderstood

now please choose one number between 1-6. pick the one that you are currently feeling most attracted to. and read your message: 

1- Yeshe Tsogyal: you will be able to overcome all of the obstacles you are currently facing. allow your spiritual guides to guide you through this and trust the process, the path that you are in. surround yourself with the people you know bring you only light into your life, allow yourself to trust them more and to trust yourself as well. by working on your spiritual side you will be able to overcome your shadow self.

2- Yogoni: Of course there’s a lot of changes happening in your life at the moment, but keep in mind that sometimes a door will close in order for another to be opened. trust your path and tell yourself if thighs aren't meant to be because life is trying to limit the pains in your life. stay faithful to yourself and your healing oath, as long as you stay authentic to yourself, you will be able to overcome things 

3- Terra Mater: your mental and spiritual path does not unfold like most people, it is taking a different way but you need to trust the process, as your spiritual guides love you unconditionally and they will help you find peace of mind. follow the new ideas and accept the changement that is happening in your life. your manifestation is strong, use it wisely. you know that goal you have? grasp it. Even if people say that it's stupid and impossible for you to have it, don't let it go and fight for your desires.

4- Beatitude: don't be afraid to show the true you. The only way to heal your inner conflicts and the pain is by accepting and loving who you are. even when things seem so hard to reach, keep walking down the rightful path and trust life. all the difficulties are going to bring you to wisdom and the right path.  

5- Biche: You are only a child that has been hurt. I am so sorry that you had to go through this hard thing. but your energy is able to overcome all of this negativity. you don't need to become something that you are not, your spiritual light is already warm and soft. keep yourself true to your inner core and things will become easier 

6- Volva: your spiritual power can heal your dark self way better than what you think. It's time for you to travel through the spiritual world and engage yourself more. don't try to control what is happening and allow it to unfold before you. instead work on something tangible, on something that will help you healing from all the pain you have suffered