#she must have just learned to walk. and now already she cares for herself and her family.

[raven-dor]

come back to me

In which gwayne hightower leaves his wife asleep before the battle, and she worries over his return

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: allusions to nsfw, angst, old friends, hurt/comfort, arguing (not actual arguing, just reader letting out her worry), fluffy ending

WORD COUNT: 2,994

Her emerald green dress flowed with the wind as she stood on their shared balcony, staring at the town below. He always admired her from afar, she was angelic, Gwayne had come to realize over the years. He walked behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, a gentle touch that spoke volumes as to how much he treasured her. “Come to bed, my love.” 

She hummed, leaning her head back into his chest. “If I come to bed, this night will end, and that will mean you are leaving.” She shook her head, her resistance palpable in the air. “So I will not.” 

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Will you deny your lord husband the pleasure of your company before he goes into battle?” 

She laughed, twisting in his hold. “Is this a request or a demand?” 

“It is a plea.” He leaned down, inches away from her lips. “I do not wish to leave on bad terms. This battle will be one for the histories.” He shivered, pulling her closer. “Indulge me.” 

She leaned forward, cruelly teasing him. Quickly, she pulled back, escaping his hold easily. She walked past him, smirking. “If we must.” 

He grabbed her wrist, spinning her back to him. She gasped, her knees weakening under his piercing gaze. Gwayne had always had a hold on her, even long before they were promised to each other, and she was just the Dowager Queen’s childhood friend. He was a good man; he always had been. “You know I would never force myself on you, my lady. But I must confess…” He leaned down, whispering. “If I do not kiss you, I will surely die.”

She giggled, reaching for his lips. “We cannot have that, can we?” 

He collided her lips with his, groaning. “My darling girl…” 

“Take me to bed, Gwayne.” She murmured, linking her lips with his once more. “Please.” 

“Whatever you wish, my love.” He grabbed her thighs, wrapping her legs around him with ease. “Whatever you wish.” 

 

The sun peaked through their wide-open curtains, stirring her from her otherwise peaceful sleep. She rolled over, reaching out for her husband. Her reach came up empty, his side of the bed still warm. She gasped, realizing what he had done. She sat up quickly, calling for her maid. “Help me dress.” 

The young girl nodded. “Which dress would you-” 

“It does not matter!” She snapped. “I am sorry, truly. Any dress, just do it quickly.” 

The maid threw on her frock, a simple green velvet slip that she typically wore when exploring the woods surrounding Old Town. Smiling gratefully, she raced through the halls, not caring for the looks that followed her. The doors to the courtyard burst open, and she scanned quickly for her husband. The Dowager Queen stood alone in the center, staring at the gate. Gathering herself, she approached, curtsying. “My Queen.” 

Alicent smiled lightly. “No need for such formalities. We were once friends, Y/N.” 

She ignored the request. “Has your brother-” 

The queen nodded knowingly. “He just left, I’m afraid.” She put a comforting hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder. “He did not want to wake you.” 

“I-” Tears began to well, and she coughed. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Y/N, wait!” 

She had already dashed up the stairs, her tears now fully streaming down her cheeks. 

It had been over a month before she’d received word that the battle was over and the surviving soldiers would be returning home. In that month, not one letter from Gwayne had graced her room or, more accurately, her cell. The Red Keep was a prison now, though if Gwayne came back, she would not tell him. He loved his family dearly, especially his sister and learning of his wife’s distaste for them would surely cause a rift. 

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had only been twenty years ago, when she, Alicent, and Rhaenyra would sit in the gardens, jesting about tutors and gossiping about knights of the realm. When Alicent left to attend to her father, Rhaenyra would look over at Y/N, teasing her about her budding crush on Alicent’s brother. 

She had not seen Rhaenyra in years. Now, her nephew by law had usurped her throne, and there was nothing Y/N could do but watch. She had no dragon, no power of her own. Which she had been contempt of before her husband had been dragged into this whole mess. Thanks to her nephew, he might never return to her. All she could do now was count down the days until the horns blew, and she stood in the courtyard, raking over the faces in the crowd until she found Gwaynes. 

A knock rang through her chambers, her guard's voice coming through the door. “My lady, the Dowager Queen, would like to see you.” 

She sighed, taking a deep breath. “I will be out in a moment.” 

Alicent rarely called for her anymore. The last time had been when Viserys had died, a letter arrived to Old Town not for her brother, the Lord Paramount, but for you. For you to come.

You had not; after all, you had just given birth to your second child, and you were too frail to walk. Gwayne had refused to even let you entertain the notion, insisting that your health came before his sister, even if she was the queen. 

Her chamber doors were wide open, and Alicent sat at her table, tea and two glasses in front of her. The Queen smiled, waving away her servants and guard. “Leave us.” 

“But my lady…” 

“My sister-in-law is no threat, Sir Rickard.” The older man nodded, ushering the servants out of her chambers and closing the doors soundly behind him. “Are you well?” 

“As well as I can be, my lady.” Y/N smiled. “And yourself?” 

“As well as one can be, I suppose.” The two former friends sat in silence, sipping their tea. The fire crackled behind them, and Y/N began to wonder what exact moment had caused a rift in their friendship. 

“I must tell you something.” Alicent looked torn like she was fighting herself to stay silent. “You must not tell anyone, not even my brother.” 

“Of course.” She nodded quickly. “Of course, Alicent.” 

“I made a mistake.” Her face was ghostly white. “Aegon–” She gasped, a sob wrecking through her body. Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. “He was never supposed to be king. I misunderstood.” 

“Misunderstood?” 

“Viserys, he was spouting nonsense about Aegon the Conquerer, and I thought-” She scoffed. “I misunderstood.” 

Y/N sat back in her chair, staring at the fire. “You mean to tell me that this entire war started because of a misunderstanding?” Alicent remained silent. “Alicent, you must tell Rhaenyra. Before it’s too late.” 

The queen laughed. “It’s already too late. Her son is dead; my grandson was viciously murdered in his own bed. She would not see me. You remember how stubborn she is.” 

Y/N knelt in front of Alicent, taking her hands in hers. “Alicent, for the good of the realm, you must meet with Rhaenyra and come to an agreement. Atrocities have been dealt by both sides, but if you tell her this…” She shivered. “It would save thousands. It would save your brother, Helaena, your…guard.” She tightened her hold on her old friend's hands. “Please.” 

“I-” She nodded, not trusting her voice to stay collected. Y/N stood, dusting off her dress and sitting back down. 

“Have you heard any word of your brother?” 

“None.” It was Alicent’s turn to hold her hand. “He will return to you, I am sure. He is a great knight.” 

She nodded. “He is; that is what worries me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He would never leave his men behind. Even if that meant…” She trailed off, sighing. “You understand.” 

Alicent nodded, her heart at the bottom of her stomach. Her old friend had always been melancholy since childhood. Her parents had perished in a horrible accident, and she had been a ward of the crown ever since. She could not bear to be the cause of her further grief. 

“How are the children?” 

“Well. Daeron writes that Arthur is practically as talented at the sword as he. Emma is still just a babe, but she grows larger by the day.” She murmured. “As far as I’ve heard.” 

“You will be back with them soon; I promise you that.” Alicent smiled. “I understand what it is like to miss a child.” 

Y/N nodded, but she knew Alicent could never understand. How could she? She had never been forced to leave her children to come and serve a usurper of a king. 

The horns had blown midday only two days later. Y/N’s worry for her husband had turned into anger over the past months, anger that he did not say goodbye to her before he went off to war. She’d been sitting on her balcony when the deep sound blared through the city, rousing her out of her stupor. Even if she was angry with her husband, that did not mean her heart did not yearn to be in his arms, to be kissed like it was the last moment they would ever live. Her dress billowed behind her as she ran, again not bothering to acknowledge the prying eyes that followed. She slowed, and two guards opened the doors slowly, slower than she would have liked. 

Walking down the staircase gracefully, she tried to keep her composure when she could not find Gwayne in the crowd below. Her heart dropped, and she clenched her fists, nausea bubbling in her stomach. She was too young to be a widow, too young to raise two children on her own, too young to- 

“My lady.” She turned around, almost sobbing at the sight. There stood her lord husband, in all his glory. His hair was dirty, his skin broken, but all Y/N saw was her love before her and alive. 

She bowed, making no movement to embrace him. 

“Lord Husband. I am most grateful for your return.” 

His eyebrows raised, a smirk gracing his delicate face. “How formal of you, my dear.” 

She huffed, turning on her heels and walking back into the castle. Gwayne followed behind swiftly, entirely confused as to why he did not have her in his arms. They walked in silence to their chambers, servants stilling at the sight of Gwayne. “Leave us.” He ordered, not sparing a second glance. They scurried out, the doors shutting loudly.

He stared at her curiously. “My Love-” 

“Let me dress your wounds.” She sighed, walking over to their wardrobe. “It seems you have many.” 

He nodded but made no movement to sit or remove his armour. “Darling-” 

“Turn for me, my lord. I need to remove your armour.” 

He nodded once more, turning as requested. The tension was palpable, but neither of them made any effort to break it. She quickly removed his armour, setting it delicately on the table. “Sit.”

She stood in front of him, leaning down to dress his wounds. His hands ached to reach out and pull her into his lap, but he made no effort; he simply stared at her. “Was the battle difficult?” 

He nodded, hissing as she disinfected a cut. She mumbled apologies. “It was quite the scene. A dragon’s fight is something I hope you never witness.” Y/N simply hummed, concentrating on the cut. “Did you fare well while I was away?” 

She tensed, nodding quickly. “As well as one can do when their husband leaves without a word.” 

Ah. So that is why she had not jumped into his arms when he arrived. Gwayne had wondered why he had not been making his wife sigh and gasp from his tender touch. “I thought it was best if-” 

“You thought wrong.” She murmured, walking over to the bowl of clean water. He couldn’t fight it anymore, reaching out to grab her hips. She gasped but made no effort to look down. 

“Please forgive me.” He tightened his hold, dropping his head against her stomach. “I did not want to wake you.” 

“So I was told.” He looked up, and she sighed. “Your sister.” 

“You looked so peaceful; I did not wish to see you cry.” 

She laughed humourlessly. “Who said I would waste any tears on you?”

He sat back, clutching his chest playfully. “You wound me, wife.” 

She scoffed, squirming in his hold. “You cannot charm me into forgiving you.” 

“I made no such claim.” 

“Yes, well.” She sighed, pulling out of his arms and rinsing the rag. “You thought it. Of that, I am sure.” 

He smiled. Her spirit had always drawn him in. From the first day they had met, she had not withered at the sight of a lord. She held her ground, staying as strong as she was. “Withering is for flowers,” she told him. “I am no flower.” He laughed, placing a daisy behind her ear. “No. But you are as pretty as one.” That had made her blush. How he wished they could go back to then when everything was much simpler. When the thought of dragon fire didn’t threaten their very lives, their children’s lives. 

She stood back in front of him, but this time, he put his hands on her hips, pulling her into his lap. Her cheeks grew red, and she looked down at his neck, tending to a rather nasty bruise. “My love, please look at me.” 

“I can’t look at you.” She shook her head defiantly. “I am angry at you.” 

“Y/N-” He cupped her cheek with his hand, caressing it with his thumb.

“Don't!” She yelped like she’d been burned, jumping up. “You left me. I woke up, and you were gone. No note, no kiss goodbye. What if you had died?” She scoffed. “But no, ‘I looked too peaceful to wake.’ That is a horrid excuse. You’re a coward, Gwayne Hightower. A coward.” 

Gwayne stood up, his eyebrows furrowed. “Now, wait just a moment-” She hit his chest, tears streaming down her face. “How could you? Do you know how worried sick I was? Do you?” 

“Stop this.” 

She shook her head, continuing to beat at his chest. “Don’t ever do-” 

He grabbed her wrists delicately, stopping her. “Stop this madness.” His voice was gentle, not a trace of anger or annoyance found.

She sobbed. “You mongral. Let me-” 

“I understand that you are upset, my darling. But surely you realize this is not the solution.” He lowered his head, their lips inches apart. “I wanted to remember my happy girl. No tears.” 

“I wouldn’t have cried.” She murmured, still fighting against his hold. 

“As opposed to what you are doing now?” 

She glared at his chest. “You are without a doubt the most-” Releasing one of her wrists, he brought his hand to her chin, raising her head gently. When she still refused to look at him, he leaned down, kissing her nose, cheeks, and forehead until she finally gave in to his love.

“I have to admit, I was rather disappointed at the reception I received.” 

“If only you had left a note.” She mumbled. “Never do that to me again. Promise me, Gwayne.” 

He nodded, kissing each knuckle gently. “I swear to you.”

She wanted to take him to bed, admire his form, and thank the gods old and new that he was with her and not dead on a battlefield, but the reality was he still had many cuts that needed to be tended to, and he desperately needed get the stench of battle off his skin. 

“You need a bath.” 

“Are you insinuating that I smell?” Gwayne tilted his head, a jesting look on his face. She nodded, giggling. 

“Terribly.”

He groaned, letting her out of his hold. “Very well.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but wince as she watched him peeled off his shirt. “Let me help you.” 

“I can do it-” She glared, and he gave in immediately. “Fine, fine.” 

She nodded, carefully untying the top before lifting his shirt. Her cheeks grew bright red, his torso still as muscular as the day they were married. Throwing his shirt on the ground, her breath caught. His eyes were piercing hers once more, drawing her in. She smiled, kissing a cut on his chest gently. “Does this hurt?” 

It was his turn for his breath to catch. He shook his head, words failing. Another cut, another bruise; she followed the trail until it stopped at a cut on his lower lip. 

“My noble boy.” She kissed his lip lightly, sending shivers down the brave knight’s spine. This time, when he gave her that look, she couldn’t resist it. She placed her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. “I missed you so.” 

He groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I’m so sorry, my darling. Please forgive me.” 

“There is nothing to forgive. I was acting a fool.” She sighed as he nipped down her neck. “Gwayne, the bath…”

“I promise you I will bathe, but if I do not have you this instant, I will simply combust.” 

They stumbled over to the door, locking it haphazardly. “Take me to bed.” 

“I will, I will, but first…” He turned her around, undoing her laces quickly. He groaned. “Good god, woman, how many laces can a dress have?” 

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Woman?” 

“Forgive me. My lady, light of my life, darling, love-” 

Now she was fully cackling, and turned around, smothering his face his affection. “Let us retire, please.” 

He nodded, the laces finally coming undone. She stumbled backward, drawing him in with her spell. He tapped his chin, tilting his head. “I was about to do something.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “I believe, lord husband, you were about to ravish me.” 

He grinned, stalking towards her. “Thank you, my lady, for reminding me.” 

[pedrospatch]

loved her first

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been two and a half years since you and Joel left your baby daughter in Bill and Frank's care; when a surprise thunderstorm strands the two of you in Lincoln for the night, you unexpectedly witness Joel bond with her.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. hints at Frank's deteriorating health condition, he is not bound to a wheelchair quite yet; glimpses of girldad!Joel, babygirl name reveal, angst, mention of Sarah. time jump to 2023, takes place a few months prior to Ellie coming into their lives.

word count 5.5k

A/N: um...this turned out to be more angsty than planned.

April, 2023

You watched her as she twirled around in front of the flower bushes, a small smile tugging lightly at the corners of your mouth.

Frank had mentioned before that she absolutely adored flowers; he’d also told you about how she loved being outdoors and how she would gladly, happily, abandon all of her dolls and other toys in exchange for frolicking outside. You’d had a difficult time believing him on that, but there you were, sitting just a few feet away, witnessing first hand with your very own eyes that it was actually true. She seemed to be having the time of her life spinning around and around in front of the array of colorful roses, petunias, and begonias that Bill and Frank had planted around the house right after the winter season had come and gone. It was so incredibly innocent, so endearingly pure, a beautiful sight that you already knew you would be constantly replaying on a loop in your memory for the rest of your life—memories of her were all you had. It wasn’t enough for you, though, not even fucking close; the memories of your daughter you took home were what kept you from losing your sanity, but they were nothing compared to what you actually wanted, which was to be her mother.

Because you were her mother.

You held back a small sigh, your gaze still locked on every part of her.

She wore the sweetest, springtime dress that surely must have come from the boutique—light sky blue with an intricate eyelet embroidery, a sash made from the same exact fabric tied around her waist into an adorably perfect bow at the back of it. A pair of darling, strappy white ballet flats adorned her tiny feet, and although Frank had put her into a soft, knitted white cardigan to help keep her warm against a sudden and unexpected chilly afternoon breeze that swept through the town, the child had sneakily shrugged herself out of it when she noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Noticing the dark, gloomy clouds that began to slowly but surely make their way over the neighborhood, you stood up from the table and walked over to the spot on the front lawn, right beside the porch, where she had discarded her cardigan.

Picking it up, you lightly dusted it off and made sure it was clean. You then called out to her, gently. “Hey.” You smiled as she stopped in her tracks mid-spin, looking over at you with curiosity. You beckoned her over with your hand. “Come here, sweet girl.”

She skipped over to you, and you instinctively lowered yourself to her eye level as you spoke to her.

“The sun is gone.” You pointed up towards the skies. “That means it’s time for you to put this on so you don’t get cold. Okay?”

She wrinkled her little nose, but agreed, “Okay.” She held her arms up and out to you, as if to tell you to put it on for her.

You helped her back into it, though you left it unbuttoned so as not to cover up her pretty dress. “There we go. Don’t take it off again, okay? At least not while we’re outside.” You noticed a slight look of mischief cross her features and playfully pointed your index finger at her. “I am being so serious, young lady. Promise me that you won’t take it off?”

“I won’t,” she swore. Though she spoke fairly clearly now, she still had hints of toddler pronunciation; she could enunciate several words but she was still learning to properly talk. “Promise I won’t take it off.”

You reached out, briefly touching her soft cheek. “That’s a good girl,” You murmured, letting your thumb sweet across her satin skin. Every single part of you longed for even more contact with her, you yearned with every fucking fiber in your entire being to take her into your arms and hold her close; however, there was a very fine line that was not to be crossed, much less when Bill and Frank were sitting just a few feet away. You gave her cheek a light, teasing pinch and finally found it in you to withdraw your hand away from her face.

She grinned at you and a deep, prominent dimple appeared in her left cheek. You’d first noticed it during your visit on her first birthday.

There had always been something new for you to notice during each visit; a new tooth, an additional inch to her height, the way her face was no longer as round and pudgy as it had been when she was an infant. This time around, it was her hair that had caught your attention. It fell in long, dark brown waves to just about the middle of her back.

Her voice broke into your train of thought. “Can I go play now?”

You nodded and rose to your feet. “Of course, sweet girl. Just be very careful, alright?”

“I will.” She bobbed her head up and down at you and then went right back to her twirling, letting out an adorable giggle at the way the skirt of her dress swayed along with her movement.

You made your way back over to the table and took your seat. Picking up your glass of red wine, you took a quick sip before glancing over at Frank and remarking, “Her hair’s gotten really long.” You took another sip and then set your glass down, abandoning it in favor of the white pearl that hung from the silver chain around your neck. Holding it gingerly in your hand, you thought back to the day Joel had given it to you a little over two years ago. Presenting you with your daughter’s birthstone to carry with you had to have been one of the most loving, incredible things that he’d ever done for you. It was your most prized and cherished possession and although he didn’t like you wearing it outside of the apartment, it’d been a year since the last time you had taken it off. Anyone who tried to jump you for it would get a blade lodged into their skull. “Has she had her first haircut yet?”

“Nope. She refuses to let me anywhere near her with a pair of shears. As soon as she sees them in my hand, she runs,” Frank explained. He offered you a small, fatigued smile. He’d briefly mentioned to you the night before he hadn’t been feeling all too well over the last few days, but he still insisted that you and Joel still make the trip to Lincoln for lunch. “She calls it her princess hair—she said she wants to grow it as long as Rapunzel’s.”

You hummed. “Long hair suits her,” You told him after a minute. “Doesn’t it, Joel?”

You were met with no response and turned to glance at Joel.

He sat beside you at the table, sipping silently on his glass of wine; he hadn’t seemed to have heard you, and for once, it wasn’t because the hearing in his right ear was failing him. Joel hadn’t heard you because he was too distracted. His eyes were fixed intently on the toddler, and even when you reached out and touched his arm in an attempt to get his attention, his gaze remained latched onto her. He looked on with a mixture of different, conflicting emotions—of them all, it was sadness that took center stage. Joel often tried to keep his own feelings under wraps, for your sake, more than anything. He was your partner and he was your protector, he was your shoulder to lean on and the glue that, despite the circumstances, held everything together somehow.

He kept it all from crumbling down. For you, always for you.

You appreciated Joel trying to hold strong for you, but you wished he wouldn’t, not when you knew he was hurting too—hurting over Sarah and hurting over the daughter that was right there in front of him, but whose life he was missing out on. She was growing quickly, changing so fucking much each and every time he saw her, and he could hardly stand that he wasn’t around to witness it. Glimpses of her and her life were all that you and Joel were given, and you know that killed him as much as it killed you.

“Gracie!” Bill said her name in a scolding tone. He’d been sitting in his chair with his back to her, but he knew exactly what she was up to; he had developed something of a sixth sense when it came to her. “You just had lunch, you’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t cut that out! You’d better come and sit your little butt down right now or it’s a timeout for you, missy!”

She stopped for a second, smirked at his back, and then continued to twirl around.

Joel snorted into his wine, amused by her rebelliousness.

“Honey, come on. Be good and listen to daddy.” Frank glanced tiredly over his shoulder. “You don’t want to make yourself dizzy, do you?”

Gracie stopped and let out a teeny, frustrated huff; just seconds later, a white butterfly garnered her attention and she took off across the front lawn, chasing after it.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. He set his wine glass down on the table and leaned back into his chair. “Does she ever get tired? I’m exhausted just from watchin’ her run around.”

“She’s been so energetic lately,” Frank said. He picked up his fork and pushed his vegetables around on his plate; you’d noticed that he had hardly eaten any of his meal. “Sometimes we can hardly keep up with her. But the bright side of letting her run around is that when bedtime comes around, she’s just about all tuckered out. Isn’t she, Bill?”

Bill scoffed. “If we’re lucky. The kid’s like the damn Energizer Bunny.”

You giggled. Looking over at Gracie, you noticed that she was in one of the bushes and your smile faded slightly. “Oh, um, she’s—” You stopped and simply nodded your head over in her direction, worried that she would get into the roses and accidentally prick herself with a thorn. 

Bill looked over his shoulder. He sighed, “She’s digging in the flowers again, Frank.”

“Oh Gracie, honey please don’t pick the flowers—”

But it was too late.

She stepped back from the bush, clutching a tiny handful of Frank’s beloved white begonias. She then ran over to her parents; she first handed a flower to Frank and then one to Bill, who, despite trying his best to keep a stern face, cracked the tiniest of smiles as he accepted it from her.

“It’s so hard to put her in time out when she does things like this,” Frank chuckled, shaking his head. He smoothed her hair back from her face, lovingly tucking it behind her ear. “You’re just the most innocent little troublemaker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Gracie gave him a tiny nod, and he let his hand drop from her hair as she turned around and walked around the table towards you. Falling into step beside your chair, she held up a flower for you.

Your entire body radiated with a pleasant warmth as you took it from her. Taking the side of her face into the palm of your hand, you leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’m going to keep this forever and ever.” And you would. You planned on pressing it into a book the moment you arrived back in the QZ.

She smiled at you and then she let her gaze flicker curiously over to Joel. You could see her debating it over in her mind—besides the polite little hello that Frank would push her to say whenever you two came over, Gracie rarely ever interacted with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, but even at the tender age of two, she could sense the man’s quiet and serious nature and she knew to keep her distance. It was something of an unspoken, mutual agreement between the two of them; Joel always kept his distance from her too.

After a minute, she finally plucked up some courage and squeezed past you. She went up to the side of Joel’s chair and placed her tiny hand on his bare forearm, giving it a gentle pat as if to call for his attention.

You could almost feel the way he momentarily froze, stiffening beneath her touch. 

“Gracie, don’t—” Bill started to say, however Frank held a hand up to stop him.

“Wait, Bill,” he said, quietly. “Let her.”

“Here,” Gracie uttered softly, holding out the last begonia to him.  

Joel’s heart had all but leapt up into his throat. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he lifted a hand and accepted it. When he spoke, he sounded almost breathless. “Thank you.”

“It’s pretty,” she told him, shyly nodding at the flower now in his hand.

“Very pretty,” he agreed. He paused briefly, then touched it to the tip of it to her nose. “Just like you.”

Gracie beamed at him.

Just like you and your momma, he wanted to tell her. Of course, he knew better than to say such a thing out loud in front of Bill and Frank.

“Gracie, honey, what do you say when someone says something nice to you?” Frank prompted her from across the table.

She looked at him, then bashfully turned back to Joel. “Thank you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and seconds later came the crashing sound of thunder.

Startled by the loud noise, Gracie let out a small yelp and found herself in between Joel’s legs, tugging desperately at his denim shirt. Before his mind and body could even make the connection, he picked her up and hoisted her into his lap and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, a small whimper escaping her.

Bill and Frank exchanged a look of complete shock with one another.

Even you watched on with your lips parted in absolute bewilderment.

You’d only ever seen her in his arms once—when she’d been a newborn.

“It’s alright darlin’,” Joel soothed her, lightly patting her back. “It’s nothin’ but a little bit of thunder. It’s tellin’ us that the rain is comin’ soon, and you know what that means?”

Reluctantly, Gracie pulled her face out of his neck and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes—the very same dark brown eyes she’d inherited from him. “What?”

“More flowers,” he whispered to her, giving her a small grin.

“Really?” she squeaked excitedly.

“Oh, speaking of the rain, here come those April showers.” Frank held out his hand, having felt the first drop. Before he could even utter the warning for everyone to move inside, it suddenly began to pour; the rain came down hard and fast, as if someone up in the clouds had turned on a garden hose. “Everyone in the house!”

Bill helped him out of his chair, slipping an arm around his back. You noticed him struggle alone to help Frank and quickly hurried around the table, taking his other arm, and the both of you helped him up the lawn towards the house.

Joel stood up with Gracie still in his arms; he hurried towards the house behind the rest of you, using his hand to shield her from the rain as best as he could manage, though she ended up getting soaked, just like everyone else.

Once inside, he set her down on her feet. Another round of thunder struck, rattling the walls of the house. 

Gasping, Gracie threw her arms around Joel’s leg.

Bill raised an eyebrow, pushing his drenched hair away from his face. “I’ve never seen her get this close to you before.”

“She’s just spooked, that’s all.” Joel cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down, carefully peeling her off of him. He placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her towards him. “Go to daddy.”

“Well, that’s a nice lunch ruined,” Frank sighed heavily. “Gracie, let’s get you upstairs and changed into dry clothes.” He reached down to pick her up, but struggled lifting her into his arms, a problem that you had never seen him have before; a bizarre expression crossed his face and he turned to Bill. “Help me carry her upstairs to her room?”

Bill nodded, picking her up. “Come on, kiddo.”

Crestfallen, Frank watched him as he carried her up the staircase.

“Frank? Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. I think I just need some rest.” He noticed the skeptical expression on your face and before you could ask him again, he changed the subject. “You two are more than welcome to stay and wait for the storm to pass before heading out.”

Several hours later, and the torrential downpour continued on with no signs of stopping any time soon. 

“We’ll be fine,” You assured Frank as you began looking in your pack for your windbreaker. You found it in the top zipper, and pulled it out; although it would hardly do anything to shield you from the cold and heavy rainfall, it would have to do. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been out and about in a storm like this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking the jacket out of your hands. After taking a long nap earlier that evening, he appeared to be in better spirits. He still appeared tired, but he seemed to be moving around with more ease, an indication that he had gained a bit of his strength back. “You two can spend the night down here in the guest bedroom.”

“That’s very kind, Frank. But Bill wouldn’t like that.”

“I already talked him into it. He’s not too happy, but as usual, he’ll get over it.” Frank saw you about to protest and he held up a hand. “Can you just make this easy and graciously accept the offer please?”

You chuckled. You had known him for a few years now and you knew the man was as stubborn as stubborn could be. “Alright, alright. We’ll stay the night.”

“Good.” Frank smiled and handed you your jacket back. “The guest bedroom is down the hall, second door on the left. Make yourselves right at home. If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Joel nodded, taking your hand in his. “We appreciate this a whole lot, Frank. Thank you.”

“Of course. You two get some sleep, alright?” He bid the two of you a final goodnight before disappearing upstairs.

With your hand still in his, Joel led the way down the hallway towards the bedroom. He opened the door and flipped on the lights; the room was on the smaller side, but it was still decently spacious, at least for you it was, especially when compared it to the tiny bedroom you and Joel shared with Tess in the QZ. Frank had furnished it with gorgeous antique furniture that you were almost certain he’d refurbished on his own. What really caught your eye, however, was the bed in the middle of the room; it was a large, queen sized bed decorated with a soft, red and gold duvet and matching pillows.

“I’m so used to that old, ripped mattress we have back at home,” You remarked with a small laugh.

Joel squeezed your hand. He was thrilled to have the chance to sleep in such a comfortable looking bed, but more importantly, he found a sense of relief that for the first time in a long time, you would be able to lay in clean sheets and rest your head on a soft pillow. “Looks like we’ll both be gettin’ a good night’s sleep for once.”

Grinning, you tilted your head up towards his, your lips meeting his in a kiss. “Guess being stormed in has its perks,” You murmured against his mouth. You dropped his hand and stepped away from him, pulling your pack off your shoulders and placing it onto the bed. Unzipping it at the top, you opened it up and started rummaging around inside of it, hoping that you had a spare t-shirt that you could sleep in. As Joel started doing the same, you couldn’t help but remark, “Gracie seems to have taken a sudden liking to you.”

He quickly shook his head. “I don’t think so—”

“Joel, she gave you a flower.”

“She gave everyone a flower,” he reminded you. “Not just me.”

“What about the way she just jumped into your arms?”

He scoffed. “The thunder startled her and I was sitting closest to her. She would have jumped into the fuckin’ Boogeyman’s arms if he had been closest to her.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “Okay, what about the fact that she wanted to sit next to you at the dinner table tonight? Or how she decided to introduce you to all of her dolls one by one?”

Joel paused from digging into his pack, his jaw clenching slightly as he mulled over his thoughts in hid mind. “Do you think Gracie senses somethin’ about me?” he asked you quietly after a minute or two of silence.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you asking me that? Do you think she senses something about you?”

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Wouldn’t make Bill and Frank too happy. In fact, it would move me even higher up Bill’s shit list. I can tell that he wasn’t all too happy with the way she was clingin’ to me earlier.” Joel sighed and finally looked up, turning to you. “She looks so much like us, you know. The older she gets, the more I can actually see it. She’s equal parts you, equal parts me. Makes me worry about her noticin’ it someday.”

“Joel, she’s a toddler for Christ’s sake. It’ll be years before that could even happen. And sure she looks a lot like us now, but as children get older their features start to change and—” You stopped, realizing Joel had stopped listening to you.

His eyes were fixed on something over your shoulder, his lips parted slightly.

“Joel, what are you—?” You turned around.

Gracie stood there at the door of the bedroom, which the two of you had left open. She was barefoot, wearing a light pink nightdress; she held her hands behind her back as she simply looked at you and Joel.

“Gracie? Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? How on earth did you get down here all by yourself?” Your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that she could have easily fallen down the stairs and gotten hurt.

“Think she’s got somethin’ there, baby,” Joel noticed. He walked over to her and lowered himself down to one knee in front of her. Although he was sure Bill wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave one of his guns or other weapons lying around unsecured, part of him couldn’t help but worry about what she had in her hands. He held out his hand. “Can I see what you’ve got there, little darlin’?”

She nodded, almost eagerly, and showed him the object she’d been holding behind her back—a children’s book.

You let out a small breath of relief. “Oh thank god.”

Joel took it from her. “Goodnight, Moon,” he read the cover out loud, feeling his heart sink deep into the pits of his stomach. Looking over his shoulder at you, he let out a sharp exhale, as if some unseen force had just knocked all the wind out of his lungs.

Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Joel? Are you okay?”

Though clearly he wasn’t, he nodded and turned back to Gracie.

“Read me the story?” she asked him shyly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Frank already read her a bedtime story,” You explained to him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “He said he only allows her one a night.”

“Well, that’s a stupid fuckin’ rule,” Joel muttered, though he had been loud enough for you to hear.

“Joel!” You snapped, swatting at him with your other hand. “Don’t say that word in front of her!”

Joel almost laughed. “She’s two and a half years old.”

“Yeah, and probably parrot at this age,” You pointed out. “Please, just mind your mouth around her? We don’t need her picking up your rich vocabulary.”

“Bedtime story? Please?” Gracie chirped hopefully, interrupting the two of you.

Joel let out a small scoff. “You expect me to say no to that sweet little face? Not a chance.” He turned back to her. “Alright, I’ll read it to you. But you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep right after. Promise?”

She nodded excitedly. “Promise!”

Your stomach churned. “Joel, are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want Bill and Frank getting upset with us—”

“It’s just a bedtime story,” he said. Holding the book in one hand, he rose to his feet and then scooped her up into his arms. He walked out of the bedroom and started up the staircase with you following close behind. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which one’s hers?” 

You hesitated before answering, “Second door on the right. Joel, I’m not sure about this.”

“You act like we’re committin’ a fuckin’ crime.”

“First of all stop cursing around her and secondly, we may as well be committing a crime!” You hissed, lowering your voice. “I don’t want to break any boundaries. If Bill gets pissed enough, he could potentially never let us see her again!”

Joel shook his head. “Baby, for the last time, it’s just a fuck—it’s just bedtime story,” he quickly caught himself before another curse word could escape him. “Can you just relax? We ain’t doin’ anythin’ wrong.”

You’d never seen this side of Joel before. Usually, it was him trying to be the voice of reason, it had always been Joel telling you to use your common sense and make the right decisions, and here he was, being so stupidly stubborn.

He opened the door to Gracie’s bedroom and flipped on the lights. It looked like any ordinary little girl’s bedroom—a canopy bed, matching white furniture, a corner strewn with all kinds of toys and a bookshelf packed to the brim with fairytales in another. What surprised you was how the plain white walls had been brought to life with hand painted, large scale wildflowers that surely had to have been done by Frank.

“Daddy’s flowers,” she said, pointing her finger.

“He paints the prettiest flowers, doesn’t he?” You prompted her.

She nodded her head. “Mhm.”

“C’mon.” Joel walked over towards her bed, perching her on his hip as he reached out with his free hand to pull her covers back; he then gingerly laid her down and pulled them up to her chest, tucking her in. “You warm enough, babygirl?”

Gracie nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Teddy!”

“Teddy?” Confused, he furrowed an eyebrow and then glanced down at the stuffed brown teddy bear beside his boot. “Oh, Teddy. How did he get down here, darlin’? He’s supposed to be up here with you.” He picked the bear up, placing it right beside her. “That’s better.”

Anxiously, you dropped down into the white wicker chair beside her bed as Joel kneeled on the opposite side. His dark eyes glazed over the book in his hand, and even from where you sat, you could see the sadness flash across his face, subtle, but detectable. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he opened it and thumbed to the first page. Clearing his throat, he began reading to her. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of a cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie lingered on every word, her big doe eyes wide with fascination in the most endearing way.

You finally managed to relax and leaned back into the chair, watching the scene before you with a delicate smile on your face. Your hand instinctively went to your necklace, and you rolled the pearl between your thumb and your index finger as you drank in the sight of Joel reading to your daughter.

His daughter.

“Goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumpin’ over the moon…”

Gracie yawned and began blinking furiously.

You could tell she was trying her hardest to stay awake to the very end, but Joel’s deep voice was effortlessly lulling her to sleep. 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” By the time Joel read the last sentence, her eyes had fluttered closed.

“And she’s out.” You lowered your voice so you wouldn’t wake her.

Joel closed the book and placed it on her nightstand. He stared at her and reached out, lightly touching his index finger to her cheek. “If you would’ve asked me two and a half years ago if I thought I’d be tuckin’ her into bed and readin’ her a bedtime story someday, I’d say you’d lost your damn fuckin’ mind.”

You laughed softly and nodded. “Oh, I know.”

“You think she’s happy here?”

Your smile faded slightly. “Of course she’s happy here. Wearing pretty dresses, picking flowers, chasing butterflies across the front yard...”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question,” Joel muttered, rising to his feet.

You stood up from the chair and walked over to him. “Bill and Frank are doing a great job at raising her under the circumstances. She’s happy, she’s healthy—and they love her so much, Joel.”

“Too bad she’ll never know that we loved her first,” he murmured.

“We did love her first.” You reached for one of his hands and took it in your own, lacing your fingers together with his. “But this is the way things have to be and we both know that.”

Joel let out a hesitant sigh. “That book she brought me to read to her,” he started to say, his voice breaking slightly, “That book was the first book that I ever read to Sarah when she was a little girl.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your heart aching for him. “Joel...” You stopped and swallowed the thick, emotional lump that had risen in your throat. You said nothing else and reached up with your opposite hand, cradling his cheek in your palm.

“She was two years old, just like Gracie is now.” His voice wavered again and it was taking every ounce of strength he had inside of him not to crumble in front of you. He placed his hand over yours on his face. “You know that dimple in her left cheek?”

You simply nodded.

“Sarah had that exact same dimple,” Joel whispered. “Same side, same place too. And the way Gracie acts, she reminds me so much of her when she was that age. The way she smiles, the way she giggles, it all reminds me of Sarah.”

It almost shocked you, the way Joel was mentioning Sarah—the last time he had talked about her was that night in the apartment almost three years ago, when you had brought her up during an argument and it had only added fuel to the fire. You remembered being heavily pregnant with Gracie then, and Joel had confessed that he would probably never be ready to talk to you about the daughter that he’d lost. To hear him even utter her name to you again came completely out of left field.

“Maybe your sweet little butterfly sent you something to remember her by,” You told him, nodding over at the sleeping child. 

Joel closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head further into the palm of your hand. After a while, he finally opened them again and broke the silence. “Do you remember the day we left her here?”

“How can I not? It was hardest day of my entire fucking life.”

“You said that comin’ to see her, it wouldn’t be enough. That it would never be enough.” He paused, remembering, “I said it would never be enough for me either.”

“And?”

“We were right. This ain’t enough,” he admitted. “And every time that we leave here without her, it hurts just as much as it did on day one.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You blinked back the warm tears that had sprung to your eyes.

After spending a while watching Gracie as she slept, you and Joel decided it was time to head downstairs back to the guest bedroom to try and get some rest. Each of you took a turn to kiss her goodnight before shutting off the lights and quietly slipping out of her bedroom, closing the door behind you.

[blueberry-rose]

Hello!!! It's nice to see new genshin wlw writers!!! I have a request, feel free to take creative liberties with it. Can I have a Harbinger! Reader x Arlecchino, where basically Arlecchino shadows reader to learn from about harbinger duties and responsibilities? The more they're together the more they like and fall for each other.

I struggled a bit on how to write this so I hope you enjoy it.

Arlecchino x harbinger!reader

Arlecchino is 19 at the start of this. Your age is not mentioned but you’re implied to be a little older. Mentions of alcohol.I might have made Arlecchino an angsty teen (but let’s be honest who wasn’t an angsty teen)but the fic is has a two year time skip.

You’re a harbinger and the new fourth harbinger has been assigned to shadow you. She’s so young no older than 20. She was pardoned not even a week ago and already a harbinger. You haven’t been a harbinger for long but you had to work for years to become one. And here’s the new big shot, a criminal turned harbinger.

You got dragged out of your thoughts when your door opened. You set your work down, looking up. She stood there. Her hair was too her shoulders clearly hasn’t been cut in a while, she just got out of jail what did you expect. She wore a suit. “So you’re the new harbinger?” You gathered your work up. Putting it in your drawer.

“Yes.” She had no emotion in her voice. God it was true Crucabena was a monster, you heard rumors about it, but you thought it was over exaggerated. But the look of this girl, it’s clear it’s true, sure she was good at hiding it but you could tell she looked like her whole world has been destroyed. Her voice rang out again dragging you from your thoughts a second time. “my name is Peruer- I mean Arlecchino.”

You laughed. “Not used to the new name? Don’t worry it took me a while too. I’ve read your file, you were raised in the house of hearth. Now you are the knave, and moth-“ she cut you off.

“I’m the father. The title mother died with that woman.” You saw the blacken part on her arms to rise slightly.

“Father? Ok, ok sorry, that woman was a horrible person. But most of us are. You will have to control that anger and curse of yours.” Her fists unclench her face going blank again. You sighed. “I’ll be honest with you harbinger work is not as fun as it seems. We do paperwork I lot, we do get the most important missions. But we usually delegate the work. And if you need anything you can ask me. Now come here I’ll show you most of the work we tend to do.” She walked to your side and watched you. You went on explaining how to delegate work and getting to know your agents to make sure they can handle the work. “Now I do actually have a mission we have to do, it’s nothing too much but it’s something.”

Arlecchino followed you she’s not much younger than you but it’s clear she’s used to shutting up and doing what she’s told. “you can talk, I don’t care if you have questions. You are here to learn not to just mindlessly follow orders,”

“I don’t do small talk, not after her.” Arlecchino clearly doesn’t like talking all that much.

“Her?” It was clear she peaked your interest. Her eyes widened slightly. “Was it a girlfriend?”

“No.” She said it coldly. “She was just my best friend.”

“Did she die, was it the former knave’s fault?” You wanted this woman to open up a bit. Getting to know her was a need.

“Yes, she’s dead, but her death wasn’t that woman’s fault entirely. I killed her.” Her eyes looked dead, it was heartbreaking.

“Oh,” you didn’t know what to say. “Why?”

“Why? Because that woman that I called mother found a it funny to force children to fight to the death.”

“What?” She- she. That bitch. children?” You were surprised this was monstrous. “I’m sorry it must have been hard. Living like that.”

“she impaled herself on my sword. She was mother’s own flesh and blood.” She said all of this with a straight face. Nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you put your hand on her shoulder she tensed, it was clear that she’s been abused. “You don’t have to worry about the old mother. You’re the father of the house now, you can create a new beginning. For the new children as well as the ones that survived her. And rest assured that I will be there if you ever need help.”

She looked at you pushing your hand off her shoulder, it wasn’t hard she just grabbed your hand to took it off. “Alright. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind”

It was like this for a while, she shadowed you for a month before she was allow on her own. You could see her slowly piece her mask together. She was gracefully, and calm. Seeming to be uncaring. You knew better though she seemed to trust you. She comes by your office every once in a while. It’s been about two years since she became a harbinger. And you two ended up on a mission together. It wasn’t hard pretty easy in fact you barely did anything.

“It was nice working with you again, it reminded me of when I was shadowing you.” You smiled at her as she talked.

“You were still piecing together your mask. I think I’m the only one that knows about how angry you were when you got out of prison.”

“I was still a child. I couldn’t help but get mad.”

“Child? you were like 20”

“19 actually, I’m 21 now”

“Oh, a year off forgive me.” You were messing with her. When she stopped suddenly. “Arlecchino?” You looked back at her.

“You’re important to me. You know that right?” You felt your face heat up, Arlecchino’s changed a lot from when you first met her. She was angry, and a reckless teenager, now she was a graceful and calculated woman. “Be ready at 8 pm tonight I’m taking you somewhere fancy to thank you for everything.”

“You don’t have to do that. I swear”

“It’s to late I already have a reservation. Do not keep me waiting.” She walked forward. You walked along side her.

“You don’t take no for an answer do you?” You teased her

“You didn’t say no technically. But no I am taking you to dinner tonight.” She looked at you her Crimson x’s burning into you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go to dinner with you. Fancy you say?”

“Yes I’m taking you to a fancy restaurant, it’s the least I can do, you’ve always did whatever you could to help me and the house. It means a lot to me.”

It was 6:30 when you got home. Arlecchino’s taking you to dinner. You barely had enough time to get ready in fact you barely put on your shoes when you heard her knock. “Come in” you touched up your lipstick as she opened the door.

“Are you ready?” She walked into your room, archons she was beautiful, her once short hair now reached her butt, pulled into a low ponytail. She was wearing her normal suit. While you were all dolled up, in a full face of makeup, your hair curled, a long skintight black dress, black heals and a silver clutch. “Well look at you all dressed up.”

“You told me we are going somewhere fancy. So I dressed up.” You were blushing slightly, Arlecchino is so much taller the you and the way she was leaning on the doorframe had you melting. You forgot when you started to like her, but you never did anything you know she’s not one to form relations. Your relationship with her was purely based on work.

“You look beautiful, truly” there you go again your face is definitely super red. Arlecchino grabbed your hand and pulled to to follow her, you did of course,

“You’re not one to dish out compliments.” You giggled a bit.

��Then you should know I’m being sincere” she didn’t let go of your hand, she held it all the way to the restaurant. She only let go when you were sat, in a private little corner. “Go ahead and pick out anything you want, I’m paying after all” you looked at the menu. Everything was pretty pricey, now with you being a harbinger the price would be no problem but still you live way below your means. So going to fancy places isn’t something you do often.

“I’ll just have the steak.”

“I’ll order the same then” after a bit the waiter arrived.

“What would you like to drink, ladies?

“Just get us on red wine,” the waiter nodded before hurrying off. And coming back with the wine. Pouring two cups of wine, Arlecchino took a sip of wine.

“So why did you wish to take me to a restaurant? Especially such a fancy one?”

“Am I not allowed to treat my closest confidant.” She raised her eyes brow at you, her expression barely changing but enough for you to notice.

“I’m not saying that, it’s just” you sighed. “You treat me so differently from everyone else”

“Well maybe that’s because I think of you differently.” She grabbed your hand. Placing a kiss on it. “And I always have.”

“Arle.” Your face heating up. When she raised her eyes to meet yours. This crimson x’s focused on you. And only you.

“I, you’re not someone I can lose. Ever.” She placed a kiss on your hand again.

[stellar-skyy]

COURT GOSSIP — Furina x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Fontaine has a lot to say about Furina's lover. (Now with a part two!) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very very slight spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest, brief use of pet names (darling). iii. NOTES: Angst, reader doesn't actually make an appearance but they are talked about throughout, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 2.1k words. iv. A/N: Angst bc i lost the 50/50. This probably isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm tired and I was sick of rewriting things.

They called the relationship a lot of things. Scandalous, shocking, shameless. Shameless wasn’t the right word. Furina had plenty shame, but the taste of love had left her too excited to worry about repercussions. Careless, was more accurate.

If she had more care, she would be home by then, curled around her lover, laying with her ear pressed to their chest so she could hear their heartbeat. She wouldn’t be pacing back and forth and wearing grooves into Neuvillette’s office’s carpet.

“It is going to be alright, Lady Furina. Sit down.” Neuvillette said calmly. He was sitting still, hands folded in his lap, and to the ordinary eye he looked perfectly at ease. But Furina hadn’t spent five centuries with him without learning his mannerisms. The stiffness in his shoulders, the twitch of his eyebrow, the way his words sounded a touch too sharp; it was obvious he was just as concerned as she was.

“It’s not! Do you know what they’re saying?” Furina hissed. She threw the newspaper across his desk, letting it land in front of him with a smack. The photo of the two of them—her arms wrapped around their neck, while they kissed her cheek—took up almost the entire page, only broken up by the title.

Exclusive: Who is Lady Furina’s secret paramour?

“I must say, this is quite a poorly titled article.” Neuvillette frowned, looking closer. “The word ‘paramour’ is archaic by itself, but more than that it already implies a scandalous relationship. The word ‘secret’ is superfluous.”

“That’s not the point!” Furina practically wailed. “Look at what they’re saying!”

“Hmm… ‘Who is this mystery partner, and how did they catch the attention of the Archon herself? Is this unknown lover strategically targeting Lady Furina to attempt to obscure the justice of Fontaine?’ Ah, I see. They believe your partner to be seeking you out to gain influence of the court system.”

“How dare they! To think they would stoop to such a level to accuse my—”

“It is alright. I have already scheduled an official announcement to acknowledge the concerns and quell the rumours.”

“It’s not only that! The people are losing their respect.”

“…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“For me! They—” Furina halted. “I—I heard them today. They think of me as just some love-stricken girl. Archons above—” Neuvillette chose not to point out that she herself was an archon. “I couldn’t stand it...”

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

It had been a pleasant morning; so pleasant that once Furina had detangled herself from her partner’s arms, she decided to take a walk.

As she strolled through the streets, the sounds of the city beginning its day and the singing of birds mingled together in a strangely beautiful symphony. They competed for the attention of whoever happened to be listening, with songbirds chirping and crooning from the tops of buildings, directly above the sounds of vendors and other salespersons trying to sell their products.

“Fresh lavender melons, straight from Inazuma!” A fruit-seller called, holding a basket filled with bright purple fruits.

Ah, Lavender Melons. They were a fairly new sight in Fontaine, only appearing after trade with Inazuma was reestablished. Perhaps she should purchase a bunch.

“Extra, extra!” a young newsboy yelled out, waving a newspaper above his head. “Read all about the latest Fontaine news, from the Fontaine Gazette! Hear about the case that divided the Chief Justice and Lady Furina!”

The newspapers were always embellished, but the Fontaine Gazette was a particularly egregious example. Not a single word in that paper was without exaggeration. Though, it was entertaining at times to look over the stories and laugh about the incredulity of it all.

She strolled over to listen to the boy’s calls, idly looking past the rows of newspapers and magazines. She withdrew one from the stand, a gaudy looking magazine with bright red headlines screaming in her face.  

The Spina di Rosula in shambles! it shrieked. Such a crude form of entertainment, the misery of others. It was good Fontaine had enough reputable newspapers to drown out the crows and calls of garbage like that.

“Extra, extra! Lady Furina has a secret lover? Read all about it here!”

In a second, the magazine in Furina’s hands slipped onto the ground, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

She had to have misheard him; it must be a terrible mistake. She’d been too careful to hide them from the spotlight, keeping them away from the public’s claws. If they’d been discovered, the media would stop at nothing to tear them to shreds. Not to mention how she’d look if their relationship was found out—the Archon of Fontaine, falling head over heels for a mere mortal.

Furina had snatched the paper right out of the young boy’s hand. As he started protesting, she quickly threw a handful of Mora at him and bustled away to read the paper. Behind her, two ladies gasped and leaned over to whisper to each other.

“Is that Lady Furina?”

“I’m surprised she can show her face… I wouldn’t have the courage.”

Vultures, the lot of them! Had they no shame, gossiping about her from six feet away, like she couldn’t damn well hear them?

Their chatter faded to static and white noise in her ears, as the newspaper unfolded to reveal the story she’d been fearing. In it, the photo showed two lovers were caught in an embrace, one hidden in the other’s shoulder. The other was turned at just the right angle to show herself to the camera, grinning down at her partner with love in her eyes.

Furina stared in horror as her own face stared back at her.

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

“Furina—Ahem, Lady Furina,” Neuvillette paused, blinking at his mistake. Oh dear. He must be on the verge of a breakdown, if he was already messing up her name. “We must begin the conference soon. Shall we leave?”

“I—I suppose that would be prudent,” Furina said shakily, straightening her back.

The trip to the Opera Epiclese was filled with silence. Furina stared at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her gloves, while Neuvillette gripped his cane tightly and periodically shot her concerned looks. The only words that were spoken were after they had arrived.

“Are you ready?” Neuvillette asked, hand curled around the curtain separating their backstage room to the front balcony.

“No,” Furina whispered hollowly, before smoothing her features into neutrality and stepping onto the stage.

“Hello, my dears.” Her lips moved of their own accord; voice disconnected from her mind. “I am here to address some rumours you may have heard. If you have been following the news, you would know that some pictures have been spreading of me and another individual. Since then, there has been a number of gossip floating around the court, very little of which is based on fact.”

“Tch, she’s already trying to avoid the blame.” A particularly loud audience member commented, loud enough for Furina to hear. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing.

“This person is as many have suspected,” Furina breathed out. “A romantic partner.”

“Ms Furina!” A young man—notebook and pen in hand; a reporter, likely—yelled out. Furina bit back the haughty That is Lady Furina to you on her tongue. Arrogance wouldn’t serve her well in this performance. “People have been saying that this ‘lover’ of yours is a threat to the integrity of the justice system. How do you respond to the allegations that they are using you to sway the court?”

“T-That isn’t true! They—”

“How can we trust the Palais Mermonia if the Archon is being influenced?” A voice in the front row whispered loudly to her friend.

“If she’s that weak to the charm of a random person, then what does that say about her judgement?” Another responded.

“I—” Furina stuttered out. “P-Please, calm yourselves! I can explain myself if you just wait—”

“Is this really what Fontaine is coming to?” That pesky reporter yelled out, only stirring the chaos further. The courtroom erupted into noise, all overlapping opinions drowning out any conscious thought of hers.

“Childish—”

“Unprofessional—”

“Not fit to lead—”

“—If she’s so distracted by love.”

If the first words were a punch in the gut, the last were certainly a strike straight to her skull. She flinched, her resolve cracking enough to let the throes of panic wash over her face. It was all too much: the lights, the noise, the audience.

But she was used to commotion. She had been acting for centuries.

In the drama, she had almost forgotten her place; the Court of Fontaine was her stage, and she was the leading actress. The citizens before her were the audience to her performance, and she was damned if she wasn’t to put on a show for them.

With a deep breath, she slipped right back into the façade, smoothing over the cracks in her mask with inhuman poise.

“They say the true tragedy of godhood, is one never gets the chance to live like a human.” Furina smiled coyly, playing up the eccentric goddess act that she had been cultivating for centuries. “So many experiences we are robbed of; growing up, falling in love.”

“You wanted to be human?” An audience member called out. Young woman, nervous expression. Perfect extra for Furina’s show.

She turned to stare her in the eyes, coy grin lighting up her features. “Tell me, dear. Have you ever had a lover of your own?”

 “M-me?!” She squeaked. “Oh… I-I haven’t really had a girlfriend. B-But I have been in a… relationship of sorts.” The audience member spluttered and blushed. “A… summer fling, I suppose.”

“Well, wouldn’t I be a fool not to chase a summer fling of my own?” Furina tilted back her head with a laugh, letting her voice boom across the Opera with the confidence that left the audience hanging on her every word. “Oh, my dearest citizens. Do you think so lowly of me to think I’d let a brief bit of romance keep me from my duties? That I would be blinded by something so silly as love?”

“You don’t love them?” Another nervous audience member asked.

Yes, Furina wanted to scream. I love them more than I have ever loved anything in this world.

“Ah, love. Such a novel concept.” She loved them, she did. Oh, how she hoped they would forgive them for this. “The only love I hold is for my people and my nation! I need no lover, when I already have the love of my beautiful Fontaine.”

“I believe we have strayed off-topic,” Neuvillette said, smoothly shifting their attention to him. “The Court of Fontaine retains that this individual carries no influence over Lady Furina, the Palais Mermonia or the Fontainian justice system. This… relationship is something inconsequential that has no effect over Lady Furina’s work, and is not of a concern to Fontaine’s citizens.” Damn right it wasn’t their concern. “To put it frankly, this person is of no significance at all.”

Only Neuvillette was close enough to hear the sharp gasp that escaped her.

“This conference is hereby adjourned.”

They were going to hate her.

How was she supposed to look them in the eyes, after telling an entire courtroom that they were of no importance to her? The love of her life, the one who brought light into the world and a smile of genuine joy upon her face with just their presence. She imagined them watching the court; hearing her words, feeling them strike against their skin like blades.

They were going to hate her, and she would let them.

She would let them hate her, if it meant the public would forget their name. The moment they disappeared from the light, then the rumours would disappear just the same.

And a part of her—a small, barely noticeable, inconsequential part of her, but a part of her nonetheless—breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that her balance hadn’t been overturned. It was selfish, she knew that, and the thought disgusted her as much as it brought her comfort. That part whispered that it was for the best, not just for them but for her as well. Her reputation was secure, they were quietly pushed away from the light, and the scandal would die down quickly.

Furina stumbled backstage, stomach spinning. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, dreading the moment she would have to go home and face her lover after what she had done.

“Oh, darling.” She murmured. “Please forgive me.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[dontknowwhatyouheard]

Something Special 3

A/N: So I'm trying out new things, and learning new things. LMK what y'all think.

Pairing: Dark Beefy CEO! Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ageless bios will be blocked, non-con, G!P characters, legal age gap, dark!fic, talks of depression, lmk if I missed something Summary: Wanda finally gets what's hers. Word Count: 1864

Chap 1 Chap 2

It was 3 a.m. when Wanda woke next. The warmth surrounding her was the first thing she noticed. She sighed deeply as she moved her hips, and her head whipped to the side when she heard a sigh come from the other side of the bed. As she looked around, she finally realized where she was and cursed herself for not being more cautious. Carefully, she slid out of you as she eyed your face to be sure you were still asleep. She crept across the bed towards your face, tempted to fuck your face again, but she decided against it and kissed your lips as she tucked herself away, still erect, but that was fine if everything went as planned; she’d have you all to herself later that night, and she’d finally be able to care for you the way you deserved. So just like every night before she left through the fire escape with a smile on her face. 

–

It was already time for Wanda to see her Sugar again by the time she arrived home. Before heading to the cafe, she changed into gray sweatpants and a white tee. Something simple, but she knew her Sugar would still appreciate it nonetheless. 

–

Today, when Wanda walked into the cafe, she wasn’t greeted with a smile like the last time. She knew why, but still, it hurt her a little bit. "What happened to that pretty smile of yours, Sugar?" She said with a pout on her face. 

That statement got her a little bit of a smile, but not as full as she was hoping to see.

"I’m sorry, Wanda. I guess I’m just a little upset. What can I get you for today, though?" You sighed, picking at your eyebrows. The stress is practically eating you alive at this point. It was taking everything in not to break down right in front of Wanda.

"Same as yesterday, Sugar. Would it make your day better if I took you out on a date?" She smiled sweetly.

You stared at her, shocked; there was no way this woman was actually serious. You just met her two days ago, and now she wants a date? She hasn’t even had a real conversation with you yet.

"Come on, darling, don't leave me hanging. I'd like to make you feel better if you'd let me," she murmured, pulling your hand away from your brow while locking eyes with you. She realized that picking at your brows must be a nervous tick of yours. She'll correct that soon, but for now, she just needs you to say yes.

"Wanda. I-I can’t ask you to do that for me." You mumbled, trying to let her down lightly, hoping she’d catch on.

"Well, then I’m not asking. I want you to go on a date with me, Sugar. End of discussion." And with that, she sat in a booth to wait for her drink. She sat in silence as you turned around to make her drink. As the tent formed in her sweats, she didn’t bother to hide it; she was proud that her dick always stood at attention for you.

"Wanda!" You gaped openly at the bulge in her pants as she approached you. Was she actually packing to come to a fucking cafe? You snapped out of it when she eventually appeared at the counter. "Here's your drink," you muttered hesitantly, almost spilling it on her.

"Thank you; I'll see you at 8, Sugar," she said, pretending not to notice your stare. She slid a $100 bill across the counter and walked out before you could even react. 

—

It felt like the world was crashing down on you. No matter what you did or how hard you tried to push your predicament to the back of your head, it always came back times ten. It was like fighting through waves of zombies just to end up back where you started. You’ve been in this place plenty of times before, so this is not new. Depression has always been a constant in your life, but sometimes you wonder why you fight those zombies; you wonder why you don’t just let them eat you alive, and you curse yourself for all the times you fight just to end up in the same place months later.

By the time you were able to bring yourself out of your thoughts, you were already halfway out the cafe door. You hadn’t even realized you were just going through the motions and that you had already packed everything up. But you didn’t care; you had a date with Wanda later, and you needed to figure out how you would get through it. 

— 

"Be there in 20 minutes, Sugar 🥰" 

The text came through a long time ago, and you were still obsessing over how you would respond to it. Eventually, you gave up. The thought of even having to reply stressed you out. Instead, you tried focusing on which fragrance you would use and what you thought Wanda would like. In the end, you went with a lavender-citrus scent to match your formal attire. You were so distracted by everything that you glossed over the fact that she knew where you lived.

Three knocks sent you practically sprinting to the doorway. You opened the door so fast, that you almost hit yourself with it. 

"Well, hello, beautiful! You look amazing." She said reaching out to you with a big smile on her face, having to hold back her laugh seeing the gawk on your face. She didn’t blame you, though; she knew you’d love the red suit and had it made for this exact occasion. "Come on, Sugar, we’ll be late if we don’t get a move on."

"Wanda I-… Wow." You were short-circuiting; you couldn’t even form a complete sentence as you let her pull you to her car. A very fancy all-black Pagani Huayra that costs more than your entire existence. 

 "You like it, sweetness? I was having doubts about this one." It was easy for her to lie to you. She never once questioned the suit. 

"Hell yes, Wanda, you look so damn good." A genuine smile finally appeared on your face, and Wanda was determined to keep it that way.

—

The date went amazing. Wanda almost didn’t want to leave the restaurant, but she knew something even better was waiting for her once she got you home. Before she left her house, she triple-checked that she had everything prepared.

The drive back to her place was relatively normal until the end. Wanda had parked the car on the side of the highway. She placed her hand on your thigh; she knew you wouldn’t object to it, and she knew you had trouble saying no your entire life. "Sweetness, I want to know how this date was for you." And while she genuinely did, she also needed you to be distracted. So as you were telling her how much fun you had, she was able to prick the side of your neck.

"What the hell was that?" you said flinching moving your hand to your neck.

"You’re all mine now, Sugar." And that was the last thing you heard before you passed out. 

The rest of the drive for Wanda was silent. She was super anxious and kept her hand on your thigh the entire time, occasionally glancing over to make sure you were still breathing. 

When she finally arrived home, she brought you to your new room in the basement, mentally thanking herself for adding more weights to her workouts. She just couldn't wait for you to wake up.

— 

It was only an hour later, and finally, your eyes fluttered open. The bed beneath you was so soft, that you were tempted to close your eyes again. 

"Oh, you’re finally up, Sugar! I’ve been waiting so long for this; please kiss me."

You didn’t have time to comprehend what was going on when suddenly you felt her lips on yours. You tried turning your head away, but she gripped your cheeks so tightly that it hurt. Your only other option was to kiss her back and hope she’d stop soon. 

"Oh, sweetness, that was better than anything I could've imagined! Daddy is so hard right now. I need to make love to you. Please, baby, don't deny me any longer." She said panting heavily. All her movements were rushed as she practically ripped the dress off your body. You scrambled to cover yourself, but she smacked your hands away.

"Wanda! Wanda! What are you doing?" You screamed, trying to throw her off you. 

Finally, she stopped for a second, but the look in her eye told you she wasn’t done. 

"I don’t want to have to punish you on our first night together, Sugar. But I will if you continue to misbehave. I understand this is our first time, but from now on you will be calling me Daddy. Do you understand?"

What was wrong with this woman? You should’ve known better; you knew it was too good to be true, and now there was no way you were getting out of this. So you nodded, hoping that if you played along, it would get you out of here quicker. 

"I knew you would sugar; you’re so good for me," she said, leaning down to suck your nipple. Moaning wildly as she practically humped your leg. It took everything in you not to moan. "I hope you’re ready, sugar." She said while ripping her pants off. She didn’t even bother to take off her underwear, instead opting to pull her cock through the slit. 

Your eyes went wide once again. It was real! What the fuck?

"Enough staring; open your legs for me. I can’t wait anymore." She states practically tearing your legs apart. She didn’t even prep you as she sunk into you slowly with a deep groan. She gave you exactly two slow thrusts before quickening her pace.

"Oh fuck!" You accidentally let slip, and it gave her the confidence to speed up. Your hands grasp her muscular waist as if that would slow her down. You were going to cum really soon if she didn’t stop. "Daddy please!" That only seemed to spur her on more as she brought her hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly.

"You can do it, Sugar, cum for me! Cum all over Daddy's cock." And with that, you did. You came with a scream, shaking under her. You watch as she pulls out and starts quickly jerking herself on your face. "Open that pretty mouth nice and wide for Daddy." She panted. You parted your lips, and she shoved the head of her cock in your mouth and came so hard you could see the veins on her abs.

"Swallow for me, Sugar. You’re such a good girl." She panted watching as your throat bobbed up and down with effort while stroking your cheek.

You couldn’t help it anymore, and you started to sob as everything came crashing down on you all at once. 

"It’s okay, Sugar. Daddy’s got you now, and she’s gonna take care of everything."

Taglist:

@aemilia19 @eliii1sblog @theylovethesky

[cheynovak]

Another, other Cinderella story  

Soldier Boy x Reader (Y/N) 

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Alcohol, Soft dominance, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 5471 

*Does not follow The Boys storyline! *  

sequel: Happy ever after ?

--------------------------------- 

Y/N is the rebellious daughter of a famous actor in the 1960. Her dad wants to keep her out of the public eye, since he cheated on his wife with her mother. Never intended to have a future with her. But then there was Y/N. Her mother, a poor woman, threated to bring out the truth about her if he didn’t take care of his child’s education. So, she jumped from one institution for troubled young woman to the next boarding school. But all she wants to do is leave, have fun and start a life of her own.  

Little did she know her life will take a turn when her father invited the infamous Soldier Boy to his party.  

For more stories check my Masterlist.

--------------------------------- 

Y/N never cared for movie stars or singers unlike all the other girls at the boarding school. Maybe her dad is the reason for it. She never had a real relationship with him. She was a bastard to him and a troublemaker.  

And she did everything to make sure he would remember that. Getting thrown out of school, behaving like a wild child. All these things made her re-do her senior year, twice. Once every few months she is allowed to leave the school and visit her family, unlike the other kids at school, she wasn’t allowed to go home on weekends, her father’s choice.  

Since her mom died over a year ago, she was forced to spend that time with her father, that was when she started to ‘misbehave’. Her father wanted her to walk around, dress and act like a lady should. While all she wanted was to travel the world.   

Today he celebrated his 50th birthday and of course he invited all of Hollywood. It was also Y/N’s last few weeks at the school, and she is determined to make the best out of her life. She put on her persona of the perfect daughter, just to get out of that boarding school.  

Y/N was allowed to attend the party that weekend, if she agreed to work as a servant and of course behave. Walking around with the food, asking if the already extremely drunk uncle Harry, your stepmother’s brother, needed another drink. But mostly just be eye candy like the other women here were.  

Y/N is the youngest girl walking around, although no one would suspect she was. Her posture and manners made her look older, mature. But she wasn’t legally, allowed to drink yet, but then again there were more things she wasn’t allowed to do, and yet she already tried.  

Her friends called her the rebel because she would sneak out to go to parties, had boyfriends who were just a little too old for her. And when they wanted to know “things” they didn’t teach at the boarding school they would knock on her door.  

But when it came to these events she knew how to behave. She would walk around with a certain flair. And instead of punching a man in the face when he touched her, she learned how to ‘dance’ around them.  

Y/N got used to the looks of the men by now, but there was one man in particular that caught her eye. It took her a while to recognise him without his uniform, but then it hit her. Soldier Boy... her mother did tell her stories about this superhero before going to bed.  

How he would watch over her and keep her safe, but the man sitting there, who hasn’t aged a day, didn’t seem much like the man you thrust your kids to. And of course, daddy dearest knew the most famous supe of all. 

While she waited at the bar on the refills for Uncle Harry, she watched how every woman at the party threw herself at his feet. Including your younger ‘sister’. While he smoked his cigar, ignored the underaged girl, he talked and laughed with the man and your father.  

Y/N must have been staring a little too long because he turned his head to her, without scanning the area first. Not knowing he had his eye on her this entire time. 

When his green eyes looked right at her, she felt her breath hitch. Goose bumps covered her from neck to toe. “Here you go luv.” Franky the bartender said. “T-thanks.” Her perfect painted red lips turned in a curl before she took the drinks out of his hands.  

Y/N walked back to Harry, although she was great at pretending, pretending that her feet didn’t hurt became more and more challenging. Walking for hours and hours on these black heels made her feet hurt like hell.  

She took one more glance at soldier boy, noticing how he was listening to her dad while his eyes scanned her body. He tilted his head, his eyes grew a darker shade of green. Clearly not caring about a word your dad was saying to him.  

Y/N knew that look.  

His eyes meet hers again, she would have sworn he smiled at her, not a teeth showing, heart drop smile, no, a god if I had you alone, the things I would do to you, grin. She took a deep breath right before her foot caught behind the carpet.  

She was able to remain her balance but the drinks on the tray weren’t. The red wine fell over aunt Trina’s silk dress. “Oh my... I’m so, so sorry.” Y/N kneeled next to her, trying to help her by wiping her dress with her sleeve. Uncle Harry got up. “You stupid child! Do you have any idea how expensive this was.” His fat hand grabbed her by the cheeks.  

Y/N could feel his fingers pinch into her skin, a little harder and he would have pierced her cheeks. He pulled her on to her feet. Y/N closed her eyes, she knew he got a little aggressive when he had a few to many but this was a Harry she has never seen before. 

He let go of her for a second, but by the time she opened her eyes she felt a hard slap against her cheekbone. The impact made her tremble over the glasses on the floor, she fell down, cutting her hand in the process. Seeing how the very heavy man came closer. 

Y/N’s uncle stood above her, she closed her eyes again, waiting for his next move when she heard a deep voice behind her. “Hey fat suit, leave the girl alone.” She looked over her shoulder, seeing soldier boy walking towards Harry.  

Her dad tried to hold him back saying it is all a misunderstanding, trying not to let him intervene. He placed his hand on the supe’s shoulder, only to receive a stone-cold look, a warning to let him go. Which, smart as he was, he did. “You think you’re tough, hitting a girl half, hell, a third of your size.” He looked the man up and down.  

Leaving Harry speechless, leaving the entire room speechless. Y/N looked up, she knew Soldier Boy was muscular, but sitting on the floor looking up at this man, who now stood beside her made it feel like she was looking at a god. 

Y/N’s dad walked Harry and his wife towards the exit before this escaladed. The girls helped Y/N getting up while Soldier boy was still keeping his eyes on Harry. When he turned around Y/N was already at the bar with the other girls and Franky, taking care of her hand.  

She looked over her shoulder to him, he could see the tears in her eyes, when she mouthed “thank you.”  to the supe. He only nodded in response, but she could see his eyes moving over her again. Different than before, more a look to see if she was alright.  

Soldier boy walked slowly towards her, close enough to hear the conversation she had with her dad. “Why don’t you go to bed. The night is over for you.” - “I can stay if you want to. Clean up my mess.” She said waving at the broken glass at the floor. ‘Get to your room, you embarrassed us all tonight.”  

“Just, I don’t know, tell them, you fired me or something.” - “I wish I could fire you as my daughter. Your sister is a well-behaved young woman, but you, you always make a scene, wherever you go. Now go, out of my sight.”  

Soldier boy had heard the conversation, daughter, she sure wasn’t mentioned before when he met the other one. “Thomas.” He stopped her dad. “Who was that girl?” He saw his face turning green, “Ah eh... overpaid servant.” Soldier boys nodded not believing a word he said. 

The night went on, Y/N could hear the music from downstairs playing. No way she would be able to sleep in this noise. So, she did what she always did when sleepless, draw. She took off her shoes, let down her hair, still slightly curled from the up do and removed that ridiculous red lipstick.  

Taking a seat by the open window, letting the breeze through her hair. Her hand still hurts, so she placed her sketchbook on her knees, looked outside for inspiration, but all she could think of was soldier boy’s eyes. The emotions he had shown through them.  

She got lost in her drawings, hearing a knock on her open door made her flinch. “Hi.” His deep voice echoed in her head. While he stepped inside. “What are you doing here?” She answered a little too rude. She saw soldier boy’s face change.  

“I thought I come check on the sweet girl who just got punched in the face, but it seems like she left the building.” He turned his back to her, walking out of the door. Which her body clearly didn’t want, her stomach turned at the idea of him walking away. “Wait!” she almost jumped to her feet.  

He stopped, “I’m sorry, I just had a really bad day.” she saw how his shoulders slightly dropped at ease. “And thank you, again.” He turned around, “Let me see.” looking around while pointing at her hand. Trying to look uninterested.  

She felt his warm hand unwrapping the band aid. “It’s not too deep, it will heal nicely.” Y/N had trouble breathing, it felt like something pushed on her lungs, breathing heavy. And yet she really liked it. Unconsciously she moved closer to him.  

Soldier boy’s hand moved a lock of hair behind her ear, to look at her eye, seeing it turning blue underneath the redness. Her eyes roamed over his features, this was the first time she noticed he had little freckles over his nose. How full his lips where, how... kissable? His hand lingered on her cheek almost touching her neck.  

“You’ll live.” those words made her daydream burst, and brought her back to reality. “Tell me, why does Thomas keep you a secret?” Y/N frowned at that question. “You are their daughter, right?” She nodded, “well, his but not hers.” - “Aha, there we have it.” His index finger touched her nose. 

Soldier boy’s eyes roamed the room again, lips curled into a smile “What do we have here.” He thought he had caught her writing her diary. Find something to make her blush. But no, the moment his hand left her face she was able to play it cool again.  

“My sketchbook.” - “You draw?” - “Uhu.” She said while sitting down on her bed. “It’s good... it’s me?” Y/N’s lips curled into a smile, “Well, you kept looking at me. So yeah, I drew your eyes.” Soldier boy pouted his lips, while he went through her book. His eyes got bigger then turned the book at her.  

“Spicy.” He grinned showing her one of her old sketches, a man sleeping barley covered by blankets. “What, you never saw a naked man before?” He clearly liked her boldness. “Who is he? A model at your art school?” - “Ex Boyfriend.” Now that, he did not expect.  

He looked at her, his eyes became darker again. She could feel his eyes on her skin. While all he could think about was how old she was. She isn’t starstruck by him like a 16 year old would be, clearly had some experience with men, but when the men at the party offered her a drink she declined.  

“What’s on your mind?” She asked while he kept staring. “How old are you?” - “How dare you ask such a thing to a lady!” She pretended to grab her pearls. Not realising that gesture made his eyes fall on her chest.  

“18, 19 ?” He looked back up. “20” she answered, Y/N could have sworn she heard the wheels in his head turning. “Why?” He placed her book back where he found it. “You want the truth?”  

Ben turned back to her, seeing her closing the bedroom door, placing her back to it. Her eyes filled with the same lust he had hours ago. “Please enlighten me.” she answered biting her lip.  

In a few long strikes he closed the space between them. Making her stand in between him and the door, looking up at those beautiful eyes again.  

His hand moved through her hair, the other hand gripped her hip tight. “I feel like we have been avoiding this tension all night long.” He kissed her soft on her right side of her neck. “But then again you are such a tease aren’t you.” another kiss on her left side of her neck.  

His husky voice, his touch made her almost moan, so hard trying to avoid looking desperate. Normally she would be the one to drive a man crazy, she knew what they liked but now she needs to find her cool. Her eyes closed for a second when his lips kissed her.  

She felt his tongue touch at the bottom of her neck, in between collarbone, making her head fall back, closing her eyes. Slowly licking, caressing, moving its way up to her chin. Her hands moved to the back of his head.  Feeling his locks in between her fingers, softly scratching. While his lips moved to that one spot behind her ear.  

"Soldier boy” She breathed out. “Ben.” he moved his head to look in her eyes. “It’s Ben.” He waited for an answer “Y/N” she said before pulling him close to her body. Her lips hungry kissing, sucking at his.  

While his hands moved over her body, trying to map out her curves, her weak spots. As the air began to fill with the sound of heavy breaths and soft moans Y/N felt his dick growing in his pants. His hand trying to move under her tight skirt.  

He felt resistance of the fabric, so instead of tugging and struggling he ripped her skirt apart, from the bottom up. Leaving her gasping in his mouth. His finger found their way to her clothed slit, feeling how wet he made her.  

“F-f-fuck honey, so hard to get yet so wet for me.” he dropped to his knees “If I had known, I would have fucked you hours ago.” He pulled down her panties, two fingers slide in easy, while his lips and tongue played her clit.  

"Oh Ben!” those words sounded like a prayer to him. “Tell me you’re not one of those shy girls. Afraid to scream my name.” His thumb moved over sensitive but. Giving him the answer he needed. “That’s my girl.”  

His mouth kept working on her clit while his fingers kept curling and pushing inside her, making Ben earning her moans.  His free hand moved over to her breast, her hand covered his, accouraging to knead it. Ben felt her hips buck, her legs started to tremble and right before he pushed her over the edge he stopped.  

Y/N gave him an annoyed look. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning while his thumb moved over her soft red stained lips. In this moment she was glad she had taken off the lipstick she had to wear to the party.  

She kissed his thumb, holding his wrist in her hands. Moving from one finger to the others, taking the two fingers he used on her. She put them one by one in her mouth, she could taste what was left of her on them, tongue moving over his fingers. Pulling them slowly out of her mouth in a sucking motion while looking at him.    

“Here I thought you were a nice girl. Searching for a nice, decent young man, like that bartender, downstairs.” He said while she dropped to her knees to undo his pants. He felt her fingers and nails move over his bulge before she hooked her fingers around his underwear. Releasing his fully grown erection. “But let’s face it.” He grabbed her cheek, making her look up at him. “You want a man that fucks you till you scream his name.”  

Those words made her even wetter than she thought was possible. She opened her mouth, taking as much as she could. “That’s it...” Ben moaned when her tongue moved over the vein underneath his shaft. With every bob of her head, she tried to take more of him. While Ben tried to focus on her mouth, but he heard footsteps, when they stopped outside her door, he held her head still for a second.  

All though he didn’t want her mouth to stop he did pull out right before they heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?”, it was her sister. “Y/N?” she tried to open the door she had locked. “Yeah, what is it?” - “Nothing special, dad just wanted to make sure you were still here.” - “Ok, goodnight.”  

Ben took the time to undress her while she dealt with her sister. Kissing every part of her that he discovered. Determine not to be interfered. He walked her back to her bed, nodding to lay down. “Legs wide open sweetheart.” The nickname gave her goosebumps.  She watched him taking off the rest of his clothes, while she waited for him.  

“Ben please... hurry.” - “I love how you’re already begging for me. Do it again.” He said while she saw his hand tug lazily on his dick. His eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch. “Ben, please... please fuck me already.”  

He pulled her closer to him by her ankles. Placing himself in between her legs, Ben’s thrusts started of slow, he felt resistance from her body, clearly not used to his size. Y/N felt the sting, making her eyes water. “Relax sweetheart.” 

After a few minutes the stinging pain changed into pleasure. Making her moan Ben’s name over and over in some sort of prayer. “Harder” managed to say between breaths. “Tell me what you need sweetheart.” 

“H-harder Ben, ... Please fuck me harder.” He placed a hand on her neck, not fully kneading but making her open her eyes, looking right into his.  “Want me to fuck you till you can’t walk sweetheart? Is that it?”  

All she could do was nod, being mesmerised by him. He turned her around without too much effort. His hands moved over her ass to her hips, pulling her up. She repositioned herself onto her hands and knees.  

She felt Ben move the tip of his dick through her folds before pushing inside. No warning, no teasing. Ben’s large hands pulled on her hips, trying to get as deep as possible inside her. Hearing her hiss out loud “F-fuck”, he kneaded the flesh of her ass, before hitting it with the palm of his hand. Earning a yelp from her.  

He felt her body giving in to the pleasure, unable to focus on anything else than him and thank God she did, her orgasm triggered his own. The moans and growls that came out of them sounded primal. Ben was always cautious with his one nightstands, but this time he didn’t care if it was safe or not when he came inside her. 

He dropped on the bed next to her, while they both breathed fast trying to come back to this earth. Y/N started to hear the sounds of her surrounding again. Only now realising she had only heard his words and moans, anyone could have walked pasted them without her knowing it. Imagen her relieve hearing the party hasn’t ended yet. “You should go back.” She said looking over at him.  

He clearly didn’t expect her to say that, given the confused look on his face. “You are a famous supe, they will be missing you by now.” She explained herself. Ben lifted himself on his elbow. “You know, no woman ever asked me to leave.” She smiled “I’m not every woman.”  

“Let me guess they beg you to stay the night and you sneak out by morning?” Not confessing she wanted him to stay. Stubborn as she is. “Something like that.” His green eyes had softened, roaming over her face again. What is he looking for she thought. 

“Ok, I'll leave...” His hand moved over her stomach, between her breasts to her neck, lingering there. “If, you tell me where I can find you.” Y/N thought about his words for a second, did he just really asked her to see her again?  

“4 more weeks in the boarding school a town over, then I’ll be traveling the world.” His thumb moved over her bottom lip. His eyes looking how he caresses them. “So, I have 4 weeks.”  - “To what?”  

He smirked, “You’ll see.” He said while he lifted himself out of bed, putting on his clothes. With his hand on the door, he looked back at her, still laying down in the bed. Her body partly covered with the white blanket, one leg out, showing and her hair a wild mess.  

Ben’s lip twitched at the sight of her, instead of looking over the moon she looks him dead in the eyes. He knew from the start she wasn’t what he was used to, but damn, she drives him insane. She had triggered his interest early this night, but little did he know he would be obsessed with her at the end of it.  

 --  

The next week Y/N stood in her uniform at the gates of the school when the principal Mrs. Pierce called out to her. “Miss Y/L/N, please follow me to my office.” Her friends looked at her while she shrugged her shoulders. Usually she had a pretty good idea of what she walks into.  

When they walked into the office, she noticed a man standing in the corner of it. “Ah miss Y/N take a seat.” She looked at the principal. “Am I in trouble?” - “Not this time.” - “You have... met my boss this weekend at one of your father’s soirees.” The man said clearly trying to choose his words wisely.  

“Y-Your boss? Excuse me sir, but I have talked to a lot of people that night. Can you be more specific?” The man looked over to Mrs. Pierce and back to Y/N. “Soldier boy.” He added. Y/N’s face couldn’t hold back her surprise. Feeling Mrs. Pierce looking at her.  

“I, I-I have met him yes.” - “He would like to see you again.” Y/N noticed the dirty look the man gave her, looking her up and down, noticing the bruise she tried to cover. He clearly knew how they ‘met’, probably thinking her being a teenage slut, trying to find a way of getting famous.  

Y/N got up, “Tell mister Soldier boy if he wants to see me, he can find me here. I’m not the type of woman who runs to a man on his command. Have a nice day sir.” She turned to Mrs. Pierce who was clearly content with the “progress” she thought Y/N made. “Ma'am if you don’t mind, I would like to continue class.”  - “Very well.” she nodded.  

On her way to class Y/N kept thinking about the conversation but mostly about the night with Ben. Wondering why he wanted to see her again, he probably can have any woman he wants. “Y/N!” Her principal walked up to her. “Your... encounter with Mr. Soldier boy didn’t incur the injury, did it?”  

Y/N looked at her hand, “Oh no, he didn’t, this was an accident ma’am.” - “Ok, well, if there is anything that need to be said, even in a confidential matter, you know where my office is.” Wow, Mrs Pierce was really worried about her.  

The next weeks went by smoothly, her friends tried to find out why she was called to the office, but she gave a vague answer. By the last week of school Soldier Boy was already a nice memory of a party she wanted to forget. She needed to keep focussing on the future and the last week of boarding school. 

Y/N was the only one whose parents didn’t attend the graduation. But that wouldn't stop her from being happy today. She could finally spread her wings and leave this place behind her. When she heard her name, she walked up front to collect her degree. Noticing one man standing, she didn’t have to take a long look to recognise that grin.  

Her heart started to beat fast, her neck covered in goosebumps, how is it possible that a man can give her this kind of feelings. She kept looking behind her when she took her seat. “What’s wrong?” One of her friends asked. “Nothing.” She said way to quick. Her friend looked behind them not seeing why Y/N was so nervous.  

After the ceremony there was a drink, organised for the senior students, parents and their family.  The twin sisters, Y/N got friends with over the years, invited her to meet their parent. “Where are your mom and dad, dear?” Their mother asked. “I afraid they couldn’t make it.” She smiled her well-practised smile. 

“There she is!”  

Y/N recognised the deep warm voice immediately. Before she could turn around, she felt his hand on her lower back. “Congrats sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the people around you to hear. Then planted a small peck on her cheek. 

Play it cool Y/N, play it cool, Be cool... She looked over her shoulder, “I thought I spotted you in the crowd.” - “Wouldn’t want to miss your big day, honey.” his hand moved over her cheek “I see that ugly bruise healed well.” Y/N felt her cheeks glow when she saw the twins and her parents look flabbergasted.  

“Right, meet my, eh f-friend...” Y/N’s voice cracked “Soldier boy, nice to meet you sir, ma’am.” He filled in, shaking their hand. “And these are your friends I presume.” He asked Y/N while flashing them a heart stopping smile.  

After a little friendly conversation, with questions that Ben probably heard a thousand times before, he turned to Y/N. “You want another drink, sweetheart?” pinching her hip. “No, but a word, in private, would be great.” She flashed him fake smile.  

Ben followed her inside the school. “What are you doing here Ben?” - “I told you I’d find you didn’t I.” - “Took you long enough.” She crossed her arms. “To be honest. I didn’t like your response to my man.” She huffed. “I usually don’t go running around to the girls I sleep with.” He said. “Well, that’s tough, I had you in my bed didn’t I, not your man.”  

“So stone cold. I don’t like my woman like that.” - “Good thing I’m not yours then.” He grabbed the back of her head, his thumb on her cheekbone, walking her towards the wall, making her stand in between his body and the wall behind her. “Listen sweetheart, I’m having a lot of patience with you. Reject me and I won’t come back this time.”  

Ben saw her eyes change, he’d expect her to be angry maybe even a little scared of the way he handled her, but no, her eyes softened, he noticed how her body leaned towards him. “You think you’re having patience... Clearly, you’re not that into me than.”  

Y/N tried to walk away, Ben held her back, all though everything about his posture said anger, his eyes screamed helplessness. “Don’t.” - “Tell me why not Ben, give me one, good, reason.” His mouth opened just to close again. “We used each other for pleasure. Nothing more.”  

In reaction Ben grabbed her tight and pushed her back to the wall, his lips consumed hers. His hands moved over to her ribs, pulling his body against hers. He felt her resist but by the time his tongue asked permission he felt her body melting into his.  

Their breath deepened within seconds, Ben pulled back keeping only a small space between their faces. “Tell me Y/N, honestly, is this just pleasure?” - “Shut up.” She sighs while pulling his body close to hers, closing the space between their lips.  

Until they were disturbed by the sound of a clearing throat, “Miss Y/L/N, your father is here. He would like to see you.” - “I’ll be right there Mrs. Pierce.” She felt the heat on her cheeks rise. “So cute when you blush.” Ben teased letting his lips touch her neck one last time before he lets go of her.  

“I had no idea he would be here today.” She said while they walked through the crowd, seeing him talking to the twins’ parents. Ben walked beside her keeping his hand on her back. “Father, how nice of you to come.”  

“Of course.” he pulled her in an awkward hug. “Ben.” - “Thomas.” Both men greeted each other like real alfas.  “I had no idea you would come.” Y/N said to lift the tension. “Well, I’m glad I did.” He looked Ben up and down.  

After a really weird and awkward situation where both Ben and Thomas kept giving each other dirty looks and the other parents trying to have a normal conversation, Thomas spoke.  

“Right, Y/N I think it’s time to go home.” - “I’m sorry but I’m not going.” - “What do you mean?” Y/N took a deep breath “I’m not coming home anymore. It’s time for me to move on, see the world. But I might start with New York first.” She said looking at Ben. His brow lifted.  

Her dad nodded, clearly not liking her answer, but what was he supposed to do against Ben, who after all this time still hasn’t lifted his hand of her back.  

-- 

Ben and Y/N few over to New York, he didn’t want her to stay with him at Vought. They really didn’t like the fact that their most eligible bachelor supe had fallen for a young woman. Keeping her in a penthouse would be more enjoyable for her.  

Y/N wouldn’t be Y/N if she didn’t rebel a little. Ben had told her he wasn’t going to make it to her tonight, so she found a way to make it up to his room. Turned out ‘his man’ she met at school weeks earlier was his security guy. Who let her in his room.  

A little ironic a superhero had a security guy, she thought when she found out. 

Ben walked in, angry about his day, undid his protection gear and shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone on the nightstand, trying to call Y/N. “I don’t think she is going to answer.” Y/N said crawling into bed behind him.  

Her hands moved to his shoulders, giving him a little massage while her lips whispered in his ear. “I thought you could use some company.” Ben looked over his shoulder, seeing Y/N wearing the lingerie he bought a few days ago.  

“Hmm, that colour really suits you sweetheart.” his hand grabbed behind him, kneading in her thigh. “You know when I asked for clothes, I expected a little more... coverage.” she laughed. “Why?” Ben’s voice deepened.  

“So you have to take them off again.” She whispered, biting his ear.  

He stood up and turned around, towering over her, seeing how she sat on her knees in bed, looking at him with her doe eyes. “I missed you baby.” His lips curled by the sound of her needy voice. 

He pushed her down and crawls on top of her. She lifted her leg around his hip, his large hand moved over her, from knee to hip to her breast. Mesmerised by her, he locked eyes again.  

“Woman... you’re going to be the end of me.” 

---------------------------

Thank you for reading, if you liked this story, please like, share or comment. <3

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (part IV)

MASTERLIST

Summary: It was true, strength did came in numbers  

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Is it the name of the fic? I thought we all loved Daryl :(

“Hi, I’m Maggie”, she presented herself to you, and you shook her hand, she must have been around your age

“(y/n)”, you answered back with a shy smile

“Glenn”, she presented, pointing at the man who spoke first

“Now, we need to get ready, we are not going to make it easy on them”, said Rick, “grab anything you can and turn it into a weapon”

“I have some knives”, you said, they all looked at you amazed, and you took a knee and from your big ass boots you took two blades. You handed one to Rick.

Everyone got to work, and it was kind of fun, you made weapons out of everything, most of them took their belts off and use the metal part to make brass knuckles, and Ruck started trying to break the wooden edge of the door to make a stake

The boots you had on were a heavy duty boot, with a rubber edge and soles, and then a thick leather shin. Now that it was getting heated they were a bother, but once a walker tried to munch at your feet and it couldn't because of it. They allowed you to store things in them, you took out their laces and… well, you didn’t know what you were going to do with them but you already had a knife so you just wrapped your knuckles with them.

Daryl was by your side, making his own weapons, you looked at him, wondering if he was good with a knife, anybody could be better than you

“Are you good with a knife?”, you asked him, he looked at you like he wanted to bite your head off when you offered him your knife

“Keep it”, he said

“You have to be better than me using it”, you said, the weapon hanging in the air between you, just when a light hit you from above. A trap door on the roof of the cart.

“Everyone ready!”, Rick screamed but they only dropped what it looked like a gas can inside

“Be careful!”, someone screamed, as it started to release gas. 

“DON’T BREATHE THAT!”, you ran to the back of the cart, protecting your face with the inside of your arm, the knife had been lost in the confusion, and you didn’t have time to look for it, everyone in the cart dropped heavily to the ground

When you came to your senses you felt people walking around you, speaking, their voices became more clear as they were as confused as you were.

You raised your head and looked around the cart, the visibility was already poor, but even now you could see… there was people missing

“Rick is gone!”, said Michonne

“Glenn!”, called Maggie

“Daryl”, you muttered when the archer was nowhere to be found.

“Bob”, called a woman

You stood up again, heavily, you looked at the ground of the cart but the blade was missing, you only hoped Daryl had took it, and not those fuckers.

“What are those sickos going to do with them?”, someone asked.

“We need to see if we can open that thing“, you said looking up, “you! big guy”, you spoke at the big ginger man, he nodded, grabbing you quickly and raising you without further questions. Michonne was there in a second to help him to give you a steady grip, so you could use the strength in half your body to tray and open that trap door. You couldn’t, so you help the man that you learned was called Abraham to raise Michonne this time, but she didn’t have any luck either.

“We need to get out of here, we need to find them before…”

You then jumped to the door and all of you together tried to open it. There was eight of you, still, you couldn’t make it work

It was Rosita now who wanted to be lift up to reach the trap door, and then, between four of you, managed to lift Abraham himself, but not even he could open it.

Just as you were trying to open the big door again. You heard a loud explosion, that shook the entire terrain

“What was that?”, you asked, Maggie stuck her head to the door, and even you who were just standing could hear the gunshots.

“They are under attack!”, she said

“That works in our benefit”, said Rosita

“Do you think that the guys are doing this?”, you asked

“No I don’t think so”, muttered Maggie

But you didn’t have to wonder anymore, someone opened the door and you prepared yourself to jump at whomever was behind it.

But it was Rick and Daryl

“Someone is attacking, come on let’s go!”, he yelled and you all jumped out of there.

It was mayhem. Smoke, walkers coming in, gunshots far away, pandemonium

“Get armed as fast as you can!”, commanded Rick, and you put your knife up and slayed a walker that was coming for you, as you kept together as a group. “kill whoever you see, they will try to kill you”

You were not an idiot, -despite what people who just got to know you might think-, you just didn’t want to accept it, you didn’t, those sickos might only want you to rob you and shit

But you threw up, when you saw… There was a huge pile of human remains on the outside part of one of the warehouses. And they did not look rotten, they were not walker’s remains, those were human, -human- remains.

“We ain’t got time for tha”, muttered Daryl, grabbing you by the arm, and pulling you with him. You had noticed that he had the tendency and grabbing you to encourage you to keep moving, to make sure you did move. 

“They were going to eat us?”, you asked, disgusted

“These are some sick bastards”, you did not ask him what they saw in there, you didn’t have the time.

Your heart was beating fast, you could hear it inside of you. The reality of the moment sinking in, everyone but the people who were in the wagon with you were enemies, and the place was just crawling with moving entities, either dead or alive and they all wanted you dead.

You moved like ninjas through the building, following Rick like he was the chosen one, maybe he was, it certainly felt like it.

He signaled both to stop as you saw a group of those sickos gunning at walkers. You waited until the last one passed by, Rick grabbed him and killed him swiftly, then he shot at their backs. You all jumped and weaponized yourself with their guns before the walkers had those who were still agonizing. A fitting death, you’ll suppose

You had seen it before, but it will never stop hunting you, walkers tearing people alive. The screaming came quickly too.

“Come on!”, Daryl screamed, and you did, you ran like hell. When you were passing by a dead dude, you saw your ax on his belt of his half eaten body, you grabbed it quickly and slain the walker that just turned. 

You lost your backpack too, those bastards took it, you still had things from your… previous life, but… there was no point in holding onto that sort of thing, right?

You preferred to use the ammunition against the living, so as you ran you tried to take down as many walkers as you could, you felt gazes on you. But nobody said anything as you made your way to freedom.

You barely noticed, it came at you, and you just, shot it in the head

Only when it hit the ground did you realize it wasn’t a walker, it was a human being, who you just slaughtered.  

Funny, you had been with Rick’s group for a week and you quadrupled your body count for a year. 

But it was a cannibal psychopath, so you hoped that fact would make you feel better.

You all went to the nearest fence, as some of you covered you when the others jumped, before this whole thing started you were ashamed to admit you had never been really athletic, and even more so when you had trouble to jump the fence, but without even asking someone pushed you up, no questions asked, and you in turn, when you landed, helped the others pass.

You managed to get out of there, weaponized and all, and you left those psychos behind as you ran for the forest

Your heart was still racing, the adrenaline had taken a hold on you and you could say you came out unscathed as you took cover behind the treeline

Everyone was still on-guard, pointing their guns around.

“We need to recover, and come back”, said Rick, you looked back at him like he had two heads

“It’s being overrun!”, said Daryl, and you watched as a big horde of walkers took the territory as their own, “it’s still on fire!”

“If even one of them is alive… they might come back for us”, he said. He did have a point

You only nodded s you started to fill nausea creeping up your throat, you took a couple of steps away from then and you just kept throwing up, the adrenalin having forsaken you

“I don’ think we are going nowhere naw”, you beard Daryl say. 

“I’m sorry”, you whined, Tara, who you just met, came to comfort you, rubbing your back. “It’s just… those were some sick bastards”

“We should get out of here”, said someone you couldn’t quite recognize, and they started arguing

“They are armed to the teeth if we go back maybe we can get more weapons”, fought Abraham

Then, a woman approached the group, she was covered in dried blood, and weaponized to the teeth, and when they saw her, Daryl jumped in her arms and hugged her tightly.

Rick, Michonne, and Carl also were happy to see her, so she must be a part of their group, the one they lost, unlike Abraham, Rosita, Eugene and Tara, who, just like you, were new as well.

“You need to come with me”, she said, and you all got no choice but to follow her, and you wanted to put much distance between you and Terminus

You walked through the woods, and some dark thoughts started creeping on you

Were you doing the right thing by staying with them? You could tell there was strength in numbers but still you couldn’t help but wonder. Since you met the group you had encountered two hostile groups and almost got killed and eaten, you had killed people, more in a week than you had in over a year since this madness started. What does that tell you?

Maybe it would have been best if you just silently walked away. You hadn't noticed, but you slowed down your steps and you got placed last in your group, you watched ahead all those heads, waking forwards.

Oh you were so scared

You were upping the stakes here, big time. More people, more affection you could get and you knew all too well what happened when you believed you were safe and happy.

Oh gods

You almost got eaten today, by people, actual people.

But if you had been alone you would have walked right into the trap and got eaten anyways… no chance of escaping because you were alone…

You could walk away right now and nobody would mind or care… well it was only a few days until you had met them, but still, if you could only have a little sign that this was the right way to go…

“Hey!”, you raised your eyes to see Daryl looking at you, “what are ya’ doin’? this isn’t a stroll through the woods”, he said, always so angry at you

What that your sign? He sighed when you stepped up your pace and walked by his side, he always seemed so frustrated with you, but in some sick way, you didn't mind his gruffness.

“Sorry”, you mumbled.

“Don’t stay behind”, said Rick, “I know what just happened upset you, and I don’t want you to get distracted, walk with us”, he said softly, and you nodded. Yes, you were doing the right thing.  

You walked until you saw a small cabin right in front of you. A big man came out of it, holding a baby. As soon as he saw him, Rick and Carl sprint full speed towards him, Rick took the baby from the man’s arms and hugged her with Carl

“A baby!”, you said happily, it’s been so long since you have seen one, and this one was adorable, “she is a cutie”, you murmured. You felt the gaze of Dixon in you, but you didn’t dare to look back at him

“It’s his daughter”, said the quiet man, Bob, and you smiled even more widely.

This was certainly a stronger sign, right?

You used to find babies really annoying, but now, in this context? It was like a small ray of hope. Like a representation of the most undeniable truth: nature always finds a way.

Now you were just quoting Jurassic Park

Post chapter notes: I feel like these are like filler chapters, but I’m setting a foundation here, and Daryl is a bit mean to reader but that also has some explanation. 

[edenesth]

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Pairing: mafia!Mingi x fem!reader

AU: mafia au

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Mingi lies to his fiancée and keeps the truth about his identity as a mafia boss from her until she agrees to marry him. What happens when she finds out?

A/N: Just a random drabble/oneshot of Mingi as a mafia boss, this is based on a dream that I had of him and it felt too good to not write about.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Seeing as Mingi was momentarily distracted by all the people around him; presumably his business partners, clients or whatever illegal shit it was that he did with them, she didn't care to know and wanted no part in, she quickly took the chance to make her escape.

In order to ease her movements, her hands immediately flew down to grasp the expensive floor-length velvet dress that he personally hand-picked for her to wear this particular evening.

Her eyes darted around anxiously as she prayed to all the gods she didn't believe in that no one noticed her, she took deep breaths to calm the nerves within. All the while, not forgetting to plaster on a big and fake smile so as to not alert the waiters and bodyguards scattered around the grand hall where her engagement party was currently taking place.

For the longest time, she assumed that her fiancé was nothing more than a successful businessman.

At least, that was what Mingi had wanted her to believe then.

He was only going to keep that façade up until the moment he had her fully wrapped around his fingers, only then would she learn the truth about who he really was. And by then, she would already be too in love with him to even dare think of walking away from him.

Or so he thought.

She knew the truth about his identity now and contrary to his belief, she was going to leave him.

Did she love him still?

Yes, but there was only so much that love can do when you throw a whole lot of gaslighting and deception into the mix.

In the modern dating world, they would have described him as a walking red flag.

The truth is that he was anything but a mere businessman, Mingi was a mafia boss. And not just any mafia boss, he was the biggest and most fearful one in their part of the city.

She had fallen for him, all while thinking he was just a regular businessman working hard to make his name known in the industry.

For the entirety of their relationship, he had presented himself as a successful and upstanding businessman, creating an image of stability and trustworthiness.

She will never forget the sense of betrayal she felt, as the man she thought she knew intimately has been leading a double life.

It made her question everything she believed about their relationship, forcing her to reevaluate their shared past and the authenticity of their connection.

Yes, she loved him but did he truly love her back or was that all just a lie too?

Mixed with the betrayal is a newfound fear for her safety. The realisation that she is entangled with a dangerous criminal adds an element of urgency to her emotional turmoil. She must now navigate the complexities of her emotions while also considering her own well-being and the potential consequences of her association with Mingi.

Too afraid of what he'd do if he found out about her plans to leave him, she did her absolute best to keep up her act and play along as though she was still going to go through with the wedding.

It wasn't hard to pretend like she still loved him because she genuinely did, but what made it difficult was having to act like this new part of him was not at all intimidating to her.

Had she known what this man really did for a living sooner, she never would have said yes to his proposal. She probably never would have allowed herself to grow to love him either.

She lets out a huge sigh of relief once she steps foot out of the luxurious hotel.

Eyes trained on the nearest cab approaching her way, she took a step forward and lifted a hand to call for it, only to feel her heart stop when a familiarly large hand enclosed around hers from behind.

His free hand snaked across her waist to hold onto her body and pull her against him, her frame now completely engulfed in his much bigger one.

She didn't know it would be possible for her heart to flutter and yet, tremble with immense terror at the same time.

"Where do you think you're going, baby? The party's only just beginning, the crowd is missing you. I'm missing you." Mingi whispers sensually, his breath hitting against the skin of her neck as he presses his lips firmly against her jaw.

She exhaled shakily, tears welling up in her eyes and her heart pounding, "Let me go, Mingi. You lied to me, you lied about everything! You're mistaken if you think I'd still stay with you after all of that."

He sighs, hands gripping her shoulders to turn her around to make her face him, "That's not true, I didn't lie about everything. My feelings for you remain true, I do love you and I've never once lied about that."

She lets out a loud scoff in disbelief, "Really? Because last I checked, that's not how you treat someone you love. You don't deceive them and expect them to be okay with it," A tear rolls down her cheek and he immediately catches it with his thumb, wiping it softly, "God, Mingi, I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

He smirks lightly, sliding his hands down to grip her waist instead, "Then stay, baby. Stay and you'll have plenty of time to learn everything about me," One hand cupping her jaw, he gazed deeply into her wet orbs, "You love me, don't you?"

With a defeated huff, she nods her head once and he grins widely at that, "That's all that matters, don't overthink it. You love me and I love you, nothing else matters, remember that."

Mingi closes the distance between them and his fingertips graze the side of her face. His touch is featherlight, a prelude to the intensity that is to come. Her breath hitches as his thumb brushes against her lower lip, a subtle invitation that sends a shiver down her spine.

She hated it, hated the effect that he had on her with a passion.

Time seems to slow as he leans in, their faces drawing near, their eyes fluttering shut in unison. Their lips meet with the softest of brushes, a tantalising tease that leaves them both yearning for more. His lips are warm and velvety against hers and the sensation ignites a fire deep within her.

She decides then that she couldn't bother denying the urge within her, the yearning to have him close despite her righteous beliefs.

His lips mold to hers as if they were always meant to fit together and her own respond with a fervent urgency. The gentle pressure gradually builds, a symphony of sensations that range from tender to urgent, from soft exploration to an overwhelming hunger.

Perhaps she will leave all thoughts of leaving him to a later time.

His hand finds the small of her back, pulling her closer until there's almost no space left between them. The heat of his body seeps through the fabric of their clothes, intensifying the connection between them. No longer able to resist, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

Her actions caused Mingi to smirk against her lips, he knew he had her in the palm of his hand once again.

Their breaths mingle in the small gap between their mouths, the rhythm of their heartbeats syncing as if they were in perfect harmony.

For now, just for now, she'll allow herself to indulge in this pleasure.

As the kiss continues, time loses all meaning. It's as if they exist in their own world, a bubble of intense intimacy where nothing else matters. Not even the people passing by giving them weird looks or the hotel staff standing nearby in hopes of letting them know that the event required their immediate presence.

And then, with a final, lingering press of their mouths, they reluctantly pull away, their lips parting but their foreheads resting together. Their eyes flutter open, and in that shared gaze, they find a reflection of the depth of their emotions.

"I know you're scared and confused now but someday, you'll understand me for all the things that I do." Mingi tells her in his deep voice that she has grown to love so dearly.

Utterly defeated, she relents and nods.

Perhaps her love for Mingi was enough to outweigh her moral compass. She knows it was wrong to be with him but...

The heart wants what it wants.

Hope y'all enjoyed it, thanks for reading!

I love reading your thoughts, reviews and feedback, so feel free to leave a reply, an ask or even a message if you want! <3

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[ashwhowrites]

I saw someone request rockstar Eddie with a groupie I was thinking maybe a groupie is all over him and backstage after a concert Eddie hates it and just wants his wife then reader his wife walks in assuming he was cheating and I trust you with the end🤍

Love it!! Here we go! I did your idea! But for some reason made it way more painful than needed so oops

⚠️angst as usual but fluff ending

Also I deleted this like three times and wrote it multiple ways. And I still hate how I wrote this so whoever requested it- if you hate it too, let me know so I can fix it babes

When her husband is a rockstar that girls have wet dreams about, she knows she'll spend a lifetime being jealous. When his fingers can work fast on the guitar while he multitasks with singing, she knows where other girls minds run off to. She was the same. She started as a girl who had a crush on the lead guitar player and singer. She watched him on stage and had dreams about his fingers, mouth, voice, and body constantly. And it was like he knew it. He'd smirk in her direction during his solos. Always standing near her side of the stage when he'd kneel down to sign girls'boobs. Eyes always flicked to hers, never even looking at who he was signing. The sexual tension got too hot and too high. Before she knew it she was in the bathroom being fucked against the mirror.

That's how they started. A bathroom fuck, so romantic right?

She never would have guessed the same man would be proposing to her years later on stage, in front of a sold out crowd in New York.

She was by his side when he was a small bar band and now he took her all over the world as he grew. Eddie was in love with her before he even learned her name. Getting to fuck her was just the bonus.

They were in love and maybe got married too young, but they didn't care. He wasn't letting her go anywhere.

Eddie doesn't even remember what they were fighting about before he left. He remembers screaming and her screaming back.

He remembers yelling, "DON'T EVEN FUCKING COME TONIGHT!" as he slammed the door.

Which he regretted the second he played the first song. Looking to his left where she stood backstage, and just like he asked, she didn't show up.

His first performance in months without her there and he felt like an asshole. He couldn't even remember who started it or why it started. And if he couldn't answer those questions, then he knew it wasn't important enough to keep being upset about it.

He collected together all of his stuff in the dressing room, throwing it harshly in his bag.

"hey Eddie, I know you are in a rush to get home but we have a fan out here who is dying to say hi" Gareth said. He knew Eddie and his wife were fighting before he came here, Eddie showed up tense and pissed off. The couple has been on short circuits. Screaming at each other at the drop of a hat.

Eddie thinks it's the stress of trying to have a baby that was taking a toll on their relationship. She was getting upset at her body for not accepting a baby and she took it out on him. She knew it wasn't fair but she couldn't stop. And Eddie, instead of understanding how hard it must be on her, he got pissed that he became her target. They both didn't talk about their feelings and that's where they kept going wrong.

"I'm really sorry dude. But I am not in the mood. Y/N's upset and I need to apologize. Just ask her to come next week" Eddie sighed. Gareth gave him a guilty look as the door opened and the girl squealed excitedly. Jumping in her dress as she screamed about the band in front of her.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Plastering on his best smile. He could suffer for a few minutes.

~~

She was drunk in seconds. Already throwing herself on Eddie's lap.

"no no" he mumbled, unhooking her arms but she laced their fingers together.

"I'm married" he mumbled again, trying to shift his body from under her. He was not in the mood for this type of game.

But she stayed put. Not even moving a muscle. Eddie looked around the room and noticed he was alone

"if you are married ,where are they?" She asked

"she's at home. I told her not to come" he sighed. And now he wanted her to be here more than ever. He didn't want a random girl on his lap. He wanted his wife to be here.

"how come?"

"because I was stupid and she's pissed.But seriously I need you to get off of me. This isn't happening and will never happen" he tried to push her again

"I know what you can do to make her feel better" she sounded genuine but Eddie still didn't want the feeling of other girls body on him

"okay how about you tell me while you get off of me?" He asked, giving up on moving her for a slight second to hear what she had to say. Letting her absorb his words.

But she didn't say anything. She smashed her lips onto his. His brain was slowly realizing what was going on. The hands that she had laced were stuck. He was trying to pull his body away but he couldn't move anywhere

"Eddie?"

~~

She sat at home all night. Crying on the couch after he slammed the door. She hated what she was doing to them. She was ruining their marriage day after day. But she didn't feel good enough. She couldn't give him a baby, and that's all he talked about.

Finally ready to just apologize and talk things out, she headed to his gig. She knows he doesn't want her there but as a wife, she had the right.

She smiled to Gareth as she walked to the dressing room. Lance, their manager, noticed her right away and let her through the hallway. She smiled gratefully and walked into the room.

Her husband was there, but so was a girl in a tiny dress sitting on his lap, kissing him.

"Eddie?" She gasped out in disbelief. She knew she wasn't being a good wife lately, but he'd really throw it all away?

Her eyes burned as the girl pulled away and looked behind her. Eddie's eyes finding hers once the girl moved.

"hold not. This is so not" he stuttered out fast. Throwing the girl off of his lap as she landed on the couch next to him.

Y/N felt her eyes roll, turning back around and leaving the damn bar

"BABY WAIT. I CAN EXPLAIN THAT!"

But she just kept walking. Never in their relationship did she think he'd ever cheat on her. But apparently she didn't know him well.

She made it out of the bar. Gasping for fresh air.

Eddie was right behind her, arm snatching her hand and yanking her into him.

"listen you need to listen" he pleaded. He knew if he didn't explain soon enough, more damage would take place

"no Eddie I don't!" She spat back, throwing his hands off of her

"is that why you didn't want me to come tonight? So you can go screw a groupie? How many girls were there?"

Eddie shook his head at each question

"no that is not why I asked you not to come. I should have never asked that! I want you here. And fuck no, there has been no one but you. You are my wife, I wouldn't screw that up! I don't want anyone else. She came on to me. I've spent the past hour trying to get her off of my lap. I would never do that to you. I love you"

He watched as silent tears were running down her face.

"why?" She asked, throwing her hands in the air with frustration

"why what?" He spoke softly, seeing she was seconds away from crying harder. One hand held her jaw and the other one rubbed her back softly

"why do you love me? I mean God Eddie, you married me expecting a family and I can't even give that to you! If I were you I think I'd cheat on me too" she sobbed

Eddie felt his heart shattering

"baby no. Just no" he shook his head, holding her face tighter in his hands moving his forehead against her

"when I married you, I married you because I am in love with you and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted us to share a name, a house and our hearts. Listen to me, I don't need a baby to make me want to stay with you. Nothing would MAKE me, I want to stay with you and that's not ever going to change. I should have been more understanding of the stress you are putting your body in. And I would never cheat on you. There is no one in this whole world that would ever compare to you. You are it for me, okay?"

He smiled and pecked her wet lips. Pulling back slowly as she nodded and sniffled.

"I love you too" she spoke just as soft. Kissing him again.

She pulled away with a small gag, "we need to wash your mouth. Taste like pure alcohol"

Eddie laughed, "yeah that girl was pretty wasted"

He smiled as he threw his arm on her shoulder, walking to the car.

He didn't need a baby to be a family.

Just having her, was the only family he needed.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid

[raven-awed]

Defense Lessons

Professor Aesop Sharp x fem reader

Summary: Sharp offers Defense Against the Dark Art lessons to J. Pippin’s new employee.

A/n: Couldn’t resist writing for this sexy professor. I’m hoping to write a part 2! Thank you @minichrismd for the help!

*Not my picture

Professor Sharp opened the door to his office and shuffled in. With a flick of his wand the candles and lanterns illuminated.

His office was immaculate, as usual, a potion master's paradise. His shelves were stocked full of every ingredient imaginable, from Ashwinder eggs to Wormwood essence. There wasn’t a single conceivable potion he wouldn’t be able to brew with this stock.

He sighed, glancing down at the full bag he lugged into Hogwarts with him and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. Slowly, he moved to the attached closet, glaring at the door before pulling it open. A frown formed on his face as looked at the crammed shelves and the materials spilling over onto the ground.

Sharp was completely aware that he didn’t have the space for any more ingredients, but he couldn’t resist stopping at J. Pippin’s when he saw that y/n was tending the counter.

That’s how this whole mess started in the first place.

Roughly a month ago he had gone in to purchase Dugbog Tongues, as he no longer felt up to venturing into the Forbidden Forest to hunt down his own. Afterall, he wasn’t a spry wizard anymore, unable to maneuver through the thick woods or climb like he used to, especially with his limp.

When the door chimes had rang over his head, he wasn’t greeted by the familiar face of Mr. Pippins, but the warm smile of a lovely stranger. The gruff professor nodded politely as she welcomed him in and introduced herself as Mr. Pippin’s new assistant.

Her good mood must have been infectious because he soon found himself making small talk with her. She had easily impressed him with her potion’s knowledge and her eagerness to learn and improve. Perhaps if his students were more like her, he’d have more hope for the future.

He huffed again, looking at his recent purchases on the floor. Now everytime he found himself in Hogsmeade, he made some sort of excuse to see her. He dragged a hand over his face, he was too old to be acting like such a fool. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a pretty face anymore, even if she was pleasant to talk to.

Grabbing the new supplies from the floor, he unceremoniously shoved them in the closet and slammed the door shut. He’d deal with that some other time.

In fact, a certain red headed Gryffindor came to mind, he’ll be overjoyed the next time he sneaks in here to steal ingredients. Sharp could just let him know everything in the closet up for grabs, but it was more fun to make him work for it. That Weasley boy would rob him blind if Sharp isn’t careful.

The week progressed as usual, lessons, potion brewing, sending students with minor burns or cuts to the hospital wing. One student had managed to singe his eyebrows off, it was probably the most memorable event of the week.

By the weekend, Professor Sharp was ready for a break, he went to the Three Broomsticks by himself and had a few drinks. He didn’t see y/n on his way over when he passed the potion shop, just Mr. Pippin assisting a couple of customers.

He sighed as he finished his last drink of brandy, setting the empty glass on the bar and rising to his feet.

The autumn air was brisk and the sun was beginning to set as he started walking back to the castle. On the bright side, he saved a few galleons by not spending anything at J Pippin’s, that man already has enough of his salary.

As he slowly headed back to the castle, Sharp froze when he spotted y/n walking towards him, or to be more precise towards Hogsmeade.

A wide friendly smile made its way on her face as she waved at him. “Good evening, Professor Sharp!”

He nodded, “Evening.”

She looked a little less composed than normal, her hair a slightly out of place with leaves sticking out, she was wearing pants instead of her typical uniform she wore at the shop, and there was mud caked onto her boots.

“Did I miss you at the shop?” She asked, her voice was light and sweet. “I was just out collecting some ingredients in the forest.” She held up her sack.

He shook his head, “I’m already set for the week with ingredients.” And probably for the rest of the year, he thought to himself.

They continued to walk towards each other, meeting halfway. Sharp narrowed his eyes and immediately pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh?” Y/n blinked in surprise while the older man began to clean the blood from her temple.

“What happened out there?” He asked firmly, on the outside he appeared as calm and collected as ever, but he’d be lying if he said that his pulse didn’t start racing at the sight of y/n hurt.

“Poachers,” she answered quietly. “Didn’t know I was so close to their camp before they attacked.”

Sharp frowned, lifting the handkerchief to get a better look at the wound. The cut was long and gushing blood, there also appeared to be some dirt mixed in.

“I’m alright, really I am,” she tried to reassure him, placing her hand on his.

“We should go to the hospital wing, have the nurse check it,” he suggested.

“It’s just a scratch-“

“There are all sorts of things out there in those woods, could get infected if you’re not careful,” he explained. “Come on.”

“But I should really take these back-“

“Your health is more important,” Sharp pointed out. “Parry will understand.”

Sharp escorted y/n to the castle and up to the hospital wing. He lingered while she was examined, sitting quietly with his brow furrowed, while he mulled things over.

It wouldn’t be reasonable for him to ask her not to go back, especially with her line of work. Perhaps he could suggest that next time he could accompany her, however, as a retired auror he knew that dangerous witches and wizards were everywhere, not just lurking in the Forbidden Forest.

From what he had seen y/n had proven to be a capable witch, skilled at potions and quite knowledgeable about other subjects, maybe with more support she could learn to properly defend herself. She most likely knew the basics, but he could show her a few more advanced spells, help her be prepared for next time.

Sharp cleared his throat, his dark eyes locking onto hers as the nurse finished treating the wound. “Starting next week, I’d like to offer you lessons.”

Y/n lifted her brow and tilted her head, “Potion lessons?”

“Defense against the dark arts lessons,” he stated, rising to his feet. “With some practice, I’ll have you ready to take on any dark witch or wizard.”

He acquired a practice dummy from Professor Hecat and brought it up to his classroom. He flicked his wand and all the tables and potion stations moved to the side clearing the space in the center of the classroom.

They met once a week for lessons, Sharp taught y/n advanced spells that were not part of the basic curriculum as well as strategies he had used back when he was auror. Sometimes two seemingly unrelated spells could be a powerful combination if used in the right order at the right moment.

Sharp’s main goal was to get y/n more accustomed to using these spells, make it so it was second nature for her to defend and attack if posed with a threat. The only way for that to happen was practice, lots and lots of practice.

Her nerves and discomfort were apparent from the beginning. Her hand would tremble slightly each time she attempted to produce a combat spell.

“Defensive magic wasn’t exactly my favorite while in school,” she explained one day as Sharp pushed the practice dummy in front of her. “Was always too much pressure, too much risk, I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

Sharp sighed, “Unfortunately the world doesn’t share that mindset, cause out there,” he gestured to the window, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who couldn’t care less who they hurt, and if you’re not prepared, you’ll wind up injured again or worse because of one of them.”

Y/n nodded, taking his words in, she hadn’t shared with him how shaken up she had been after the attack. In all honesty, she was quite scared that something like that would indeed happen again.

“Let’s retry that spell,” he directed. “And no holding back this time. It’s important to have conviction when casting, remember that.”

Y/n practices the spell a few more times, getting better with each turn. She wondered if Sharp is this patient with his actual students; she had graduated from Hogwarts before he took on the role of Potions Master.

“You’re improving,” Sharp pointed out as they finished for the evening. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good night Professor Sharp,” y/n smiled, heading towards the door.

He frowned for a brief moment. “Y/n?” He called.

“Yes,” she answered, spinning around on her heels to face him.

“You know, it’s unnecessary for you to call me ‘professor’,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “You aren’t my student.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” y/n pursed her lips for a moment. “Mr. Sharp…?” She addressed him, but unsure as the words left her mouth.

“Aesop would suffice.” His eyes remained as cool as ever, but in truth the matter had been bothering him for quite sometime now. Her referring to him as Professor Sharp presented a hierarchy when there shouldn’t be one, or at least he didn’t want her to think there was one.

“Oh, alright,” she responded, a little wide eyed, heart fluttering more than it should. “Good night Aesop.”

A barely noticeable half smile formed on his lips as he prepared his classroom for the following morning, it even remained as he retired for the night.

In the weeks that followed, Sharp observed y/n’s growth, she had become more confident and casted spells with ease. But besting a dummy in the safety of a classroom was nothing like a real duel.

“Today we will be doing something different,” he explained while shucking off his coat and laying it on the back of his desk chair.

Y/n tilted her head, face heating up as Aesop also removed his tie and vest. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“Dueling,” he answered with a smirk.

Her face fell, “Me duel you?”

His smirk grew, “I’ll go easy on you, but this is the best way to see how you’d fare in an actual fight.” Aesop drew his wand, “Ready?”

Y/n raised her wand but she hesitated to cast a spell, Sharp, however, didn’t.

“Expelliarmus,” he shouted.

“Protego,” she responded just in the nick of time, deflecting the curse.

Flashes of lights lit up the classroom as the duel evolved into a dance as they circled each other. There wasn’t a single pause or lull between spells.

“Depulso!” Y/n blinked in surprise when the spell actually landed, sending Aesop flying back. Immediately she rushed over.

“Aesop!” She knelt beside him, her hands cupping his face as he groaned slightly. “Are you hurt?”

Her touch was so light and gentle as she cradled his head. It had been quite a long time since anyone touched him like this.

Looking up at her so close to him, his face began heating up. Sharp cleared his throat, “I’m fine.”

“Looks like you can hold your own in a fight,” he commented, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He frowned for a moment as his own words sunk in. “I suppose that means you don’t need anymore lessons,” he explained solemnly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed, with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

They both stood at the doorway, realizing that they wouldn't be seeing each other anytime soon.

Sharp could try to go back to the shop, but he knew after spending so much time in his classroom that she had noticed his well stocked shelves. He racked his brain for another excuse to spend time with her but he was drawing a blank.

He sighed, glancing at y/n, she had probably had other things to do tonight, “Well, good night-“

“We should get drinks!” Y/n chirped, interrupting him. Her face revealing her excitement over the prospect. “To celebrate and as a thank you!”

“As a thank you?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes! For teaching me how to properly defend myself! Nothing big,” she rattled on. “Just drinks and maybe dinner. Does next week work for you at the Three Broomsticks?”

Aesop smiled, “See you next week.”

[bumblebeehug]

Together Forever

Summary: Natsu and Lucy being consent in each other's presence, and a little bit of Happy being a sweet baby boy. Notes: This is the first fanfic I've written and posted, and since I don't wanna re-read and edit stuff I'm just gonna close my eyes and hit publish :P Ao3 - FF.net

***

“Come on Natsu, at least steer your vomit away from me!” Lucy cried out, watching the sick dragonslayer destroy yet another pair of shoes. She was seriously considering putting plastic bags on her feet if Natsu couldn’t gain control over his flow anytime soon.

“Luuushi...” Happy said with a groggy voice, barely keeping his eyes open. The exceed had used up almost all his magic powers this mission, making him unusually tired - and unexpectedly cuddly towards a certain celestial mage.

“Come here Happy.” Lucy patted on her lap, letting the blue cat curl up into a purring ball of blue fur. The low frequent rumbling actually helped her calm down too. She would just have to deal with his shedding and the dirty shoes later - it’s not as if she could do anything now anyways.

Natsu himself was laying on the bench opposite to his best friends, watching them regain lost energy and magical power from the exhausting mission. It was sweet watching them both being calm like this. Of course he truly didn’t mind their friendly bickering. Happy felt comfortable enough with Lucy to show all sides of him to her, both the emotional and the snarky part. He remembered how loud and reductant Lucy was in the past, with her big and crazy reactions to almost everything that happened. Shouting every time Gray stripped or kicking Natsu out of her apartment. She never wavered. Once again, he didn’t actually mind that part, in fact, he really liked it. She had courage to be herself no matter who she was encountering, and her cute reactions often made the enemies favour her. However, she had gotten a lot calmer and sweeter the last two years. It must be that thing they call growing up, huh?

While in the middle of his thoughts, the train started moving extra much, making the salmon haired boy hurl up a mix of whatever he had eaten before boarding the hell-transportation. He really hoped Wendy could learn a new anti motion sickness-spell soon - life hadn’t been too kind since that Troia spell stopped working on him.

***

“Finally!” Natsu kissed the ground in delight of finally leaving the train, being back in their hometown. Lucy ignored him, as usual, and took care of their baggage. After all the years she had known him, he was still just as embarrassing to be out in public with. How hadn’t he picked up on social cues yet? Happy was still asleep in her arms, so after struggling for a bit she finally kicked some sense in Natsu, somehow without waking the cat.

“Come on and help with the bags you moron!” She scolded quietly, not wanting to disturb the sweet little animal who conveniently used her left boob as a pillow. “You don’t want to wake Happy, right? He deserves some rest, you know.”

Natsu obliged to the blonde’s orders. She was helping him nurse Happy back to full health after all. Grabbing the baggage, they soon headed back to Lucy’s apartment. The sun had started setting and he really craved that soft bed of hers.

Shortly after Lucy had met Natsu, she noticed an odd behaviour with him. Usually when walking back from missions with the entire Team Natsu, the air was filled with discussions. Natsu and Gray bickering in the background, Erza talking strategies with Lucy and Wendy, Happy and Carla talking about fishes or something, and then the occasional bickering between Lucy and Happy. When it was only Natsu, Lucy and Happy though, it was as if a switch had flipped. They rarely spoke, only leaving the sounds of Happy’s purring and Natsu and Lucy’s footsteps in the air. It was never uncomfortable though. They already knew what the other thought, and even if they didn’t know, they never felt the need to rush any conversations. This happened more and more frequently after the Alvarez Empire war, when Natsu had said those words to her. “We’ll be together forever, right?” Not any huge words, not anything complicated - just, the truth. Why would they need to talk all the time when they had forever in front of them. Everything would come in time. Lucy had decided to believe that.

“Hey, Lucy…”

… Did she jinx herself?

“Can we stay at your place? And can you make us some food, pleaaaase?”

Nevermind.

“Whatever, you guys just do what you want anyways.”

***

When they stepped into the apartment Lucy immediately went into the bedroom, carefully dropping off the knocked out exceed on the foot of the bed.

“I’m taking a quick shower, get the meat out of the freezer and defrost it while I’m gone, will you?” Lucy didn’t bother doing that stuff herself - Natsu knew her kitchen almost better than she did, he could figure it out.

Once she was in the shower she finally relaxed. A bath would undeniably be better, but right now she was more focused on getting all the dirt off her body. The mission they had gone on was fairly easy for Lucy and Natsu - the only one who had a hard time was Happy. The bandits had some type of flying ability, and the only way to defeat them was to get close. Therefore, Happy had to switch between them while they regenerated their powers. Lucy had gotten a bit worried when she saw Happy’s fur getting wet from sweat, but the exceed had just shaken her off, staying strong to the end of the mission. Lucy couldn’t help but admire him. If only Carla saw these heroic moments, maybe they would have gotten further in their relationship by now.

That reminded her of how protective Natsu could be. He hated it when Carla was rude to Happy. He didn’t show it, but Lucy saw. His twitching legs and furrowed eyebrows were of course big clues. Yet he still was very supportive. Every time Happy felt down because of Carla's cold behaviour, Natsu cheered him on, giving him money to buy an extra nice fish for Happy to give away. Lucy really had to give them better gift ideas though, once they had tried giving Carla a live eel instead, and she had ended up transforming into a human to run away faster. Who knew she was afraid of eels? And who knew she was that fast in her human form.

Lucy chuckled for herself at the memory. Yeah, she should definitely tell Happy to give her flowers or tea or something. She could at least spare Carla the terror of any other horrible sea creature.

After a quick round of shampoo, conditioner and body soap, she finally got out of the shower. She tried running a brush through her hair in an attempt to sort out the knots, but she quickly gave up. She would just have to brush it out when it dried.

When she left the bathroom, only dressed in a towel, she was met by a nice smell and the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen.

“So, what are we having?” Lucy asked, secretly happy with getting a meal cooked for her. She would say that she was glad that it was free for a change, but she did buy the groceries with her own money after all.

“Curry ‘n rice,” Natsu answered, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated.

“Sounds nice. I’ll put on some clothes, then I’ll take over. You can take a bath or something while I finish it,” Lucy offered, once again not waiting for an answer before going into her bedroom where her wardrobe stood. She picked out a thin crop top and a pair of shorts in a soft material, before heading back into the kitchen.

“Now shoo,” the blonde said, dragging Natsu away from the bubbling pot.

“Wait! I didn’t turn on the stoves!”

Lucy grunted loudly.

“Whatever, I’ll fix it. You stink, here’s a towel, the opened medicines are to the left on the sink.”

Who knew the fire dragon slayer had such a passion for cooking? Lucy was pretty sure that was something only she knew about. Team Natsu never really had dinner the same way at Lucy’s. The only possible person who could have known about his cooking skills would be Lisanna, but to be frank, he didn’t really have enough control over his fire back when they played house. Happy knew about this skill of course, but then again, how could he not know about it? They lived together for god's sake.

As the clock struck 10pm Natsu finally left the bathroom, dressed in only a pair of chequered pyjama pants.

“Do you know where my t-shirt is?” He asked, lifting one of the pillows that laid on the couch.

“Oh yeah, it’s in the washer. Seriously, if you keep leaving your sleepover clothes here then you at least have to learn to wash them regularly!” Lucy scolded half heartedly, blushing slightly at the sight of her half naked best friend. It’s not as if she was immune to his muscular torso.

“Whatever, it’s not as if you ever come close enough to smell it anyways,” Natsu murmured as he made his way over to the table.

“Do I need to remind you that I also use the couch that I accidentally happen to OWN. If your clothes smell, then the couch will smell too. You seriously have to break your habit of sneaking in,” she groaned, knowing that her words had no effect whatsoever. “Nevermind that for now, did you see if Happy has woken up?”

“Nopfe, he’f ftill refting,” Natsu grunted, mouth full of hot curry.

“I’ll cut up some fish for him later then, hopefully he’ll get his energy back after a good meal.” Lucy pondered for a second, wondering if she maybe should wake him up anyways. He never liked missing meals and then having to eat alone. Lucy sometimes wondered if it was because he was unaccustomed to being alone, seeing as he always had the guild or Natsu around.

The mage decided to let him sleep on for now. Happy could wake one of them up if he wanted a snack in the middle of the night. It was already late enough for Lucy, so she sat down, finally digging in on the homemade food.

“Delicious!” She beamed, letting out a satisfied sigh before continuing letting the hot curry warm her up from the inside. Nothing tastes as good as a newly cooked meal after a long mission.

Natsu watched as the woman in front of him made a happy little dance before digging in. He had already eaten his portion of the food - almost four times the amount that Lucy had on her plate, and sat now and just watched as Lucy regained energy and warmth.

This was one of his favourite moments of the week. After many days sleeping in tents, constantly being on alert and never even getting the chance to clean themselves up, the smell and familiarity of Lucy’s apartment really made him feel safe. Sure, he might be a bit barbaric on missions, itching after someone to fight, not really caring about living conditions while he actually was on the mission, but getting back to this smell always made him shocked by how tense he had been the last week. Finding this type of ritual of sleeping the first night after a mission with Lucy, brought a sense of relaxation he didn’t know his body or mind possessed. Just coming home, chatting with Happy or starting cooking while Lucy took a bath or shower, and then himself taking a shower either while Lucy finishes or starts the food, or just after the meal. There was still one problem in Natsu’s opinion though. He still slept on the couch. After all these years she still wouldn’t let them share bed unless she was drunk or if he snuck in during the night.

While Lucy’s apartment smelled great, there was just something else he felt when he shared bed with her. Sometimes he got a boner, he was not going to lie, she is very attractive after all, but most of the time he felt something else. It could be called love, but for some reason that just didn’t sit right with Natsu. Love was great, no doubt, he had felt it lots of times, to his father, to his guildmates and to material things, but sleeping with Lucy was… Comforting. The combination of the sound of her soft breathing and her steady heart, and her cool skin against his hot, and then that special smell that he only could smell when they got really close. All this made him feel… Safe. Happy. Reassured. Content. If family could be an emotion, that is what he felt.

Even better was when Happy curled up in the middle of them, making Natsu able to smell and hear him too. Sometimes, when Natsu felt bold and cuddled really close to her, Happy would lay above their heads or close to Lucy’s belly. That’s when he truly slept the best.

Natsu knew that he wouldn’t exchange these two people for the world.

“Ya done?” He grinned, watching Lucy swallow the last forkful of food.

“Yep, that meal was exactly what I needed!” She purred, patting her belly. Natsu stood up and started putting away their plates.

“We’ll wash them tomorrow,” he croaked, filling the pots with water so that they would be easier to clean the next morning. Lucy just agreed as she began cutting up that fish she had promised Happy. When she was done Natsu had already removed all the dishes from the table.

“Let’s go to bed now,” Lucy suggested, a big yawn escaping her lips.

A small part of Natsu didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. His wounds were itching and he didn’t look forward to leaving Lucy’s presence. With Happy in Lucy’s bed he didn’t have anyone to cuddle with.

So, Natsu did what anyone would do in his situation. He took the lead, grabbing Lucy’s wrist on the way to her bed, only to gently fall into it and pull Lucy closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“N-Natsu… Hey... “ The mage was blushing furiously at his actions. Not that this was the first time he had done so, in fact, it happened more and more regularly nowadays.

She didn’t dislike sleeping in the same bed as Natsu. Quite the opposite to be honest. When she was cold she found herself cuddling up closer to his chest, feeling safe in his muscular arms. When it was hot outside they actually kept a good distance - but they always touched in one way or another. Legs tangled together, feet touching, or Lucy’s personal favourite - hand holding.

She vividly remembered that hot summer night in June, shortly after her birthday, when Natsu had climbed into her bed again. Natsu didn’t understand why she kept turning away and moving from him - he didn’t understand how unpleasant the summer heat was for normal people. He was a fire dragon slayer after all. In the end they just laid in bed, back to back. Natsu really wanted to turn the other way and hold his best friend close, but he knew that she was uncomfortable in the heat. Lucy didn’t know if it was her or Natsu who had grabbed the other’s hand in the middle of the night, but she remembered how important she felt that morning. He had respected her boundaries and still found a way to hold her close. It was heartwarming. Except the part when she saw that Happy had woken up early and raided her fridge in hope to find some yummy fishes. They ate breakfast at the guild that morning.

However, keeping that night in mind, Lucy finally gave in to Natsu’s demands.

“At least let us get under the covers first,” she mumbled, squeezing out of Natsu’s bear hug. She pulled Natsu to his feet as well and then crawled under her bedsheets. Natsu stood beside her bed, pouting in disappointment. Lucy giggled for herself before lifting up one side of the blanket, inviting him into bed. Natsu immediately lit up, jumping into bed with her, almost giving in to the temptation to cuddle up in her arms and sleep on those soft, squishy boobies. Once again, who could blame him for wanting to do that - not only would it be soft, warm and comfortable, but he would also be able to hear and feel the beat of her heart.

Of course, he didn’t do that. Natsu wasn’t a pervert (sometimes he wondered if he was though), but ever since Lucy showed up in his life his hormones had been acting up a bit. He had once felt a similar way for Lisanna, but nothing really blossomed on that part. Now he found himself accidentally seeing or feeling the curves of Lucy’s (sometimes naked) body and he actually got a boner from it. He had heard Gray and Loke talk about relieving themselves if the tension got too bad, but he only tried it once. He felt bad about it later though because he had thought some nasty thoughts about Lucy, so he never tried it again. No, Natsu wasn’t actually a pervert. He could go almost a month without thinking about Lucy in a non-platonic way, but one week every month Lucy smelled different. Wondering about this odd occasion, he had actually asked Levy about it. She had gotten all flustered and thought he meant that Lucy and the other girls smelled period blood, but then he explained that that wasn’t it. It came almost a week before that, and only from Lucy too. Levy explained that it possibly had something to do with her ovulation - the perfect time to impregnate a woman. This time Natsu had gotten flustered instead. He didn’t want to impregnate Lucy! Not then anyways. Not now either. He was far too young to have kids, and besides, it was his best friend they were talking about.

No, Natsu wasn’t a pervert. He never acted on these thoughts. He knew that Lucy wanted her lines between friends, best friends and lovers to be clear. Natsu didn’t mind being all over the place. He could easily bleed over all the lines, just them being them was enough for him. But Lucy wanted them to stay as best friends - not because she didn’t want to be with Natsu, but she just wasn’t ready to take that step yet. And Natsu respected that. He wasn’t sure of course if she ever wanted to have a romantic relationship with him - how could he be? But he had faith that they both would come around some day and show the world that relationships don't need to be complicated - they just needed to be happy together, and if kissing, cuddling, chatting or raw sex was the source of it, then so be it. In Natsu’s opinion anyways. Lucy still wanted things a bit more traditional, but it was clear that as long as they made each other happy it didn’t really matter if they had ever gone on a real date or not. They didn’t mind being more than friends, less than lovers.

Now, since Natsu respected Lucy, he didn’t use her chest as his pillow - even if it tempted him to, but instead he laid down beside her, faces facing, and he did the one thing he had never done before. As Natsu settled down beside Lucy, they had locked eyes. Lucy’s big brown eyes were dazy of tiredness, and her lips were turned upwards in a little smile. Natsu had a crooked smirk on his lips, still happy with his accomplishment of sleeping in her bed. As they gazed into each other's eyes they somehow found themself moving a tiny bit closer. Natsu lifted his head up slightly and gave Lucy a light peck on her lips. The kiss was short, Lucy had barely felt Natsu’s dry, chapped lips against hers before it was over. She just smiled though, not feeling as frustrated as she probably could have felt.

“Goodnight Natsu,” she said as a light blush danced on her cheeks.

“Goodnight Lucy,” Natsu whispered back. They both closed their eyes but still felt their hearts flutter as their hands reached each other.

Yeah. There was no need to rush this family. They understood each other perfectly fine, and after all, they were going to stay together forever, right?

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

BATtrayal

Bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

A/N: The lack of Bale!Bruce is criminal, so I'm here to provide!! And of course I had to write something extremely heart-wrenching, because fun, am I right? 🥲 I will (hopefully) have some happier Bale!Bruce for you in the future! Enjoy :)

~ Fi 🪻

Warnings: very angsty, but like heart break angsty not death angsty

Word count: 1.7k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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It was a gloomy morning in Gotham. Not that there were sunny ones. Ever. It had been a particularly rough night for you, but it wasn't that your Lover hadn't shown up to bed last night. That was normal. You'd learned to keep yourself warm in the big bed without him there. You couldn't even remember the last time you two had slept together. Embracing and warming eachother while listening to the others heartbeat as a sweet lullaby to drift off into your dreams.

You'd wake up to his side of the bed never having been slept in. There was no sign of him taking the couch in the living room, or even sleeping in the batcave. You weren't even sure if he'd made it home most nights. Then, last night, you'd heard him come in and basically sprung out of bed just to hug him for the first time in a while. You'd raced down  the stairs of his penthouse, into the livingroom, your heart filled with relief to know he was alive when-

"More Tea, Miss?" Alfred broke you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him from your place at the breakfast table, him holding a teapot ready to refill your cup, if you so wished. "Yes please. Thank you Alfred," he nodded and gave you a smile "but we've been over this," you glared at him. "My name is fine, no need for the formalities". He pressed his lips into a tight smile. "Yes, of course, Mi-" You squinted your eyes at him,  and he quickly dismissed himself saying he'd left the stove on or something of the sort.

You moved around the food on your plate, carelessly pushing one piece to the other side and back again. Eating didn't seem like something you wanted to do right now. You looked out the massive windows and followed the clouds moving with your eyes. What it would feel like to be a cloud? Soft, fluffy, just going where the wind would take you. It must be nice. To not have a worry in the world.

Alfred made his way back to where you were sitting, wiping his hands on his navy blue Apron. He approached you with a smile. "Stove's all taken care of"

"Good" you smiled.

Silence fell over the room as Alfred watched you poking around in your breakfast with a defeated expression on your face.

"Not to your liking, Miss?"

"No, Alfred. You know your pancakes are the best," you gave him a small grin,  "I just don't feel like eating at the moment. And stop with the whole 'Miss' thing already, we've known eachother for ages!" you said, letting out a small laugh. He gave you a sigh. "I know, I know. It just don't feel right, with you being Bruce's Missus and all"

At the mention of his name your face turned sour. You didn't want to have to think of him right now.

You gave him a tight lipped smile. "Well, call me whatever you'd like, then"

You were about to change the topic, wanting something to take your mind off last night.

But apparently the universe doesn't want you to know peace because that was when she walked in.

Rachel Dawes.

God, you couldn't stand that woman. Everything about her drove you up the wall. Her perfect hair, that always fell how it was supposed to. That charming smile that could make any man swoon. The way she carries herself so confident and all mighty because she was a DA. How she just let herself into your and your Partners apartment like she owned the place.

She didn't even look at you as she strutted straight towards Alfred, who, to your dismay, adored her as much as the rest of Gotham. Or most of it, anyway. You looked down at your still full plate, and made it your mission to blurr out every word she said because you couldn't care less. You didn't give a fuck about what she had to say.

It ticked you off so much how she thought she was entitled to everything Bruce owned just because they'd known eachother their entire life.

She handed Alfred a small envelope which peaked your interest. Rachel pulled him into a tight hug. She acknowledged you for the first time since she barged in and gave you a small greeting that you returned without much emotion. She then bid you two a goodbye and disappeared into the elevator. Alfred still smiled after her. Blegh. If you had eaten anything it would surely make its way up your esophagus right about now.

"What was that about?" You asked.

Alfred gave you a confused look.

"You were sitting right here"

"I don't really care what Mrs. DA has to say. I'd rather hear it from you. Anything I should know?" You questioned with a cold tone.

"No, nothing of importance" he smiled. "What about the, uh, the envelope?" you pointed at the small letter with your fork.

Before he could answer you stopped him. "You know what, I don't even want to know" you spoke, putting your hands up.

"Are you alright? You haven't exactly been yourself this morning-"

"No, Alfred I am not." You hissed tears starting to well up in your eyes.

"What's the matter, Miss-" he asked with concern, but you interrupted.

"The matter, Alfred is-," you sighed angrily tears already falling down your cheeks," They kissed" your voice came out in a whisper, cracking at the end as you realized this was, in fact, not a nightmare.

"I.. I saw them kiss." You muttered.

"Surely you don't mean-" he began, shocked.

"Yes. Him and Rachel" You sobbed, pressing your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the heavy sobs.

He made his way to your side of the table, with a sad expression on his face. Alfred went to embrace you but you took a step back. "I'm sorry.., but I think I just want to be alone right now"  you managed to choke out. He nodded and you made your way to the staircase leading to you the bedroom. When you were halfway up the steps, you turned to Alfred. "Oh, Alfred?" You sniffled. "Yes?" He responded.

"Would you tell Mr. Wayne that I'm leaving today? Permanently. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be gathering my things."

"Of course, Miss" he answered, sounding defeated.

When you reached the bedroom, you collapsed to your knees. One hand on your mouth the other over your heart. It hurt so much. How could he do this? Didn't he love you? Did all those sleepless nights taking care of him after a bad patrol mean nothing to him? How you were there for him and she wasn't? Licking his wounds, comforting him through his nightmares, helping him in every way you could. Just for him to break your trust and your heart like this.

You could hear faint voices downstairs but you couldn't care less. Your heart had been ripped apart by the one you trusted most. You had some many things planned. All of your expectations, plans, images of your future together went down the drain. You were supposed to be Mrs. Wayne, for Godsake!

Footsteps could be heard racing up the stairs, but you didn't care. You didn't care who would find you like this. Sobbing and screaming your heart out on the cold floor.

The door swung open and in stepped a soaking wet Bruce. It had been pouring, apparently. Funny how the weather knew exactly how you felt.

His heart clenched at the sight. You were a wreck, completely broken down. Not only that, but because of him. He had done this to you. And he regretted it now more than ever. "Baby.." he began, stepping closer. When you looked up at him, his heart shattered completely. He'd never seen you so miserable. "B-Bruce..?" You sobbed. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm so sorry I-" he had made it next to you on the floor, but you interrupted him. "S-Save it, asshole. Leave me alone" you sobbed, trying to move away from him.

Bruce became teary eyed at your reaction. "I never meant-"

"You never meant what, huh?! For me to find out? Well I did." You hissed, being able to gather yourself, at least a little bit. Then, you went right back to sobbing, really. "I.." he sighed "It didn't mean anything to me, I swear I only love you, Honey" he whsipered. You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. "You don't mean that.." you whimpered. "I do, I really do. I swear." He continued, gently taking your hand off your mouth and putting his on your cheek, gently stroking it.

You hated how much you leaned into his touch. How much you needed this. craved this. Bruce moved closer, taking off his wet coat, pulling you into his chest. He stroked your hair as you continued your crying and whimpering. You felt so pathetic. He broke your heart and yet you were so willing to give into him. Making you look at him, he kissed you.

First, you tensed up, this being the least you expected. Just a second after you immediately relaxed into his touch. His arms. His lips. Bruce deepened the kiss, pulling you even closer to him. He picked you up and placed you on the bed, he climbed in next to you and cradled you in his arms.

How was he so stupid? He looked at what he'd done to you. Why did he kiss Rachel? He'd been pining afte her for years and took his chance but was it really worth it? Breaking his beloved's heart, making her suffer like this. He regretted his decision with every bone in his body.

"I-I'm so, so, sorry, baby.. please forgive me.." he cried. You just continue sobbing into his chest, you didn't have the strength to try and argue with him. He ruined everything you two had built with one kiss. Didn't you kiss him enough? Not good enough? Why, on earth, did he do it? You couldn't make sense of it. You slowly felt yourself drifting away into sleep. The sobbing had drained all of your energy, and Bruce's embrace was just so warm. And comforting. You didn't fight it. You couldn't. You didn't want to. But one thing was clear. The moment you'd wake up, you'd leave. You couldn't forgive him for this. Ever.

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[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 4.5: the one where Charles has more experience

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: things heat up between the trio

Warnings: uhhh smut? Kind of? Talks of sexual things, dom/sub dynamics, lots of communication, Max does some research, Charles has a massive sex drive

Notes: This was way more intimate than I was expecting, but I just kinda ran with it.

Previous <-

Masterlist

It's certainly interesting how things can come up in conversation. How it can start innocent and the become the most filthiest thing you've ever spoken.

That's how Charles feels right now.

He wasn't meaning to say it. He just wasn't thinking when he did.

They'd gone to a club after their most recent race. It's not all the time the female can go do these things since she is merely nineteen years old.

Clubbing together didn't look weird since there were so many people around. To the naked eye, it seemed that they were merely good friends.

But something was different about her tonight.

Max had whispered something in her ear when he arrived and immediately started looking for the pair.

She walked over to him first. More like swayed. Her hips moved side to side in a dress that complimented every aspect of her.

He didn't even have anything to drink yet. And since when did she get so bold?!

They'd had small conversations about sex life. How Charles could join them at some point if he wanted to. And he definitely does. But the insecurities that form in the pit of his stomach make him back out every time.

Is it his eyes? Maybe her lips? How about all of both of them.

Having two good-looking people invite you to have sex with them is not an opportunity that comes around every day.

She's so close now. Her hands spread flat against his chest. "Wanna dance?"

He was already gone.

Max must have deemed he needed a push or something because he downed a shot and then let her drag him to the dance floor.

Max just watched. Eyeing both of them for their reactions.

The Monegasque knows how things work between them. Max had literally sat him down after a few months of dating and decided to go over the entire thing.

Long story short: the female their with has no idea about sexual things unless Max has explained it to her (someone sent her an article about how to please a man you need to fake an orgasm sometimes, Max was livid about it and now keeps her away from reaserching sex online). Obviously, Max is in charge. What he says goes. She is ridiculously keen on putting his pleasure above her own. Max pointed out he learned when she's faking and made sure he took care of her cause she would do exactly what she's told and not think twice about herself. Apparently, he learned that the hard way. He went through the comprehensive list of their kinks. A yes and no chart. Then kindly asked Charles to add his (he got the red pen, of course).

Knowing what he knows now about them, it's no wonder she clings to every word Max says like it's her lifeline sometimes. He couldn't imagine being eighteen and only knowing the basic function of sex.

Regardless, now he's here, her ass grinding into his hips to the best of whatever was being played. She keeps looking at Max, his face and hands moving to lay in different ways like they were communicating by code.

She's guiding his hands now. He didn't realize how awkward he was standing there until now. Good grief he's useless sometimes.

He loses himself in the feeling of where his hands now lay across her hips, on the cusp of touching her ass.

If everyone else wasn't drinking, they would be screwed for sure. Max isn't even trying to look jealous! He's just smirking at the two if then together, probably getting off on it.

She makes eye contact with Max again. He taps his ear a few times. Then she's facing Charles. "Can you take me home?"

Oh, it could be so innocent. But he knows it's not.

He doesn't say no, though.

~

Charles covered his mouth when he said it. They'd been making conversation before thing escalated like they inevitably would.

"Have you done this before, Charlie? Because I've only ever had one partner at a time." Max had asked. Trying to keep the theme of complete transparency with one another.

"I got invited to an to a sleepover at a friend's house right after I turned eighteen. He took me out to a party his friends were hosting. Things got going, and everybody was having sex with everyone at one point. That's when I found out I like men also." Charles laughed nervously. Then, mentally hit his head on a rock. He sounded like a slut.

"Glad to know we won't be completely lost then!"

Charles stared blankly at the Dutch. "So you don't care I did that? Or that I've done this with multiple partners a few times since?"

"Why would we care, Charlie?" The girl beside Max practically whispers.

On the bright side at the lecture from Max, they'd handed over clean blood panels. So he's not left explaining that he is clean and isn't going to be spreading anything around.

~

The girl watches closely as the two males move about the room. She'd been told to stay put in the chair while Max pulled things out that they needed.

Charles looked like he might throw up from anxiety, and she wanted nothing more than to console him.

He'd just talked about how he'd wanted this for so long. Why did he look so nervous then?

Thankfully, Max didn't tell her she couldn't speak. "Maxy-" he turns to look at her. She could already feel herself falling into the stupid fuzzy head space he likes having her in. "Can I sit with Charles?"

Max asses the Monegasque, noticing his now sick complexion and far away stare. He nods to the girl in approval.

You'd think she wouldn't like being told what to do because of her upbringing. She'd tell you differently. Max knew how to make her feel things she couldn't on her own and is always trying to keep her safe. His words bring safety and comfort to her mind. They make it so her mind can't overthink the little things.

You'd also think Max would be similar in this setting like he is on the race track. Here, though, things are different. With her, he has an unrelenting calm amidst his never-ending storm. She can calm Mad Max with a singular, gentle touch. And for that, he makes sure to treat her right. Whether that be going hard because she tried to do something stupid or being gentle because she's feeling insecure that day.

She pads over to where Charles is sitting on the bed and plops herself down next to him. "Charlie? You don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's not like we're in a rush."

"No-" comes out faster then he would've liked and his face flushes again. "I'm just in love and don't want to mess it up here."

She taps her chin with her index finger. "I think if you can mess up a relationship because of something in the bedroom, then it must not have been working to begin with"

"She's right. Someone ignoring a safe word stems long before they actually get in bed." Max calls from the bathroom. Whatever he's looking for is somehow eluding him. "I give up. We'll have to do that on a different day."

Both the girl and Charles send Max equally confused glances. "Remember the stuff we purchased yesterday? I cant find it."

The girl nods in understanding. Max had been furiously exploring some new things. He had never been with a male before and was feeling wildly unprepared for this certain event. He wants to know and understand how things work so Chatles isn't left with nothing.

Things were read. Some videos watched. Then, he made a few purchases. Nex things to add to the ever heavier box in their closet.

"Are you speaking of... lube?" Charles is laughing. She is glad to see him relax a bit. "You realize I've been single for far too long, yes? Did you think I wouldn't have any?"

"To be fair, I wasn't thinking much at all."

"See Charlie! You're not the only one who's a bit nervous!"

~

Charles' hotel was across the street. Thankfully meaning they didn't have to walk far in sweatshirts and hats with the hoods pulled over.

She felt odd not being in her own room. But her thoughts go back to Charles and how maybe this would be more comfortable for him.

Charles pulls a bottle out of his travel bag and tosses it to Max, who catches it with ease. "Someone's been horny." Max smirks. Once again, pulling out that furious red color onto the Monegasques cheeks.

"In my defense, you two are incredibly sexy."

"Want to find out just how sexy?"

"I think it would be a sad waist of time if we didn't."

Max glances at her patiently waiting form. "Remember how I said this is going to be different than when it was just the two of us?" She nods her head. "It's okay if you don't know what to do. If you have a question just ask." She nods her head again.

"Knees on the bed." Ah, there's the demanding Max she knows so well.

She pulls herself onto the bed and faces the two males on her knees.

Max pulls Charles in by his better loop. Then, he leans over him and plants a hungry kiss on his lips. She'd seen them kiss before, but this was different. This was more.

She watched as Charles relaxed into Max. His arms wrapping around the Dutchs neck to pull him closer.

They allow themselves to lose themselves in each other.

She squirms around a bit. Her knees sinking further into the plush of the mattress. She wants to join also. Is that allowed? She doesn’t know but she doesn’t want to interfere with their moment.

Max pulls away breathless, panting both for air and more of Charles. “One thing we don’t know yet is where you fall Charlie. Do you like telling people what to do? Perhaps you like being told what to do?” Their eye contact is intense but Charles meets it and doesn’t back down

“Perhaps, a bit of both at times.” Then he’s pulling Max in.

This is new. Max always says what to do. Max is always in charge. Is Charles also in charge now?

She wished she’d come up with these questions when Max first sat her down to explain this to her. She curses her lack of knowledge. Sometimes she wishes she knew what to look for so she could figure it out on her own.

She fidgets a bit. Her eyes attempting to focus on the two boys in front of her. Was she supposed to find this attractive?

Max attacks Charles’ neck with his teeth. Surely staking his claim with a mark on the monegasque. Charles’ half squeak half moan only confirms her theory.

“Mon Amour, I think are girl want to join.”

Max detaches himself from Charles. His eyes graze over your body as if he’s inspecting a piece of jewelry. “Is that what you want? Do you want to come join us?”

It’s a question about if she’s comfortable or not. She wants to join but doesn’t know how. A simple nod of her head is what she can get out. Words don't accurately explain the mess of thoughts in her head.

Charles looks to Max for guidance on their next move. "I've never done this before. Show me how you do it, yeah?"

Charles just about buckles as his knees. How did Max's voice become that much more sexy than an hour ago. It seems a but ridiculous.

He steps over to the girl on the bed, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her closer to the edge.

She yelps in syprise at the action. Her mind takes notice of the difference between their hands. Max has rough hands. Large enough to grip around her with ease. Charles has nimble hands. His fingers are gentle as the dance across her skin.

Charles tilts her head up to make her look at him. Then, he slowly places a wet kiss on her lips. A string of saliva still connecting them as he pulls away.

She closes her eyes and gets lost in the new sensations. Scaqred to open her eyes and see Max and Charles no longer there.

Charles reaches behind him. His palm open towards Max, indicating for the Dutch to join him. "You realize you're allowed to touch me, right?" He giggles.

"I'm going to remind you once again that I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Good thing I do because we're never going to get anywhere at this rate." Then Charles is peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor.

Max has obviously seen Charles shirtless. Now, he just got a chance to let his gaze linger. He lets his fingers run through the lines of Charles' abs and grace the start of his V-line.

Meanwhile, Charles has started his work on her. Delicately undoing the zipper of her dress and sliding it off her.

Something between shock and excitement covers his face as he sees her lack of undergarments. "Max made you out to be so good, I guess he lied, qhm?"

She looks like she might cry for a brief moment. "I am good! Max said not to wear anything..." she blushes and returns her gaze to the floor. "He said it might make you want to come back with us tonight."

Charles cranes his neck to look at Max. The Dutch does nothing but wink at him. If there is one thing he appreciates about the Dutchman, it's his the way every one of his moves is calculated.

Charles turns back to the girl and takes a moment to admire her body. His fingers dance across her skin like when he plays a soft melody on the piano.

Hands are everywhere, exploring the most intimate parts of each other. The air in the room grows thicker with every moan.

When they're thoroughly fucked out, Max goes to start aftercare preparations. Leaving the Monegasque to keep an eye on the female.

Charles does the one thing Max told him he does every time without fail. It doesn't matter why or how, but it always ends the same way. Charles could see the obvious look of disappointment on her face as he left.

Charles leans back over her body. First, he starts low and kisses the scars on her legs. Then, he moves up to her thighs. Gentle and slow, savoring every inch if her skin.

"You are so beautiful, mon amour."

Next are her sides and chest. The dull marks here take up the majority of her skin. These ones he peppers.

Her arms come after, moving all the way from her hands to her neck.

Then, he plants rapid kisses to her cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lastly, landing on her lips. The love pouring into every second of the connection.

Max watches on. And endearing and warm smile creeps onto his face at the sight of them.

Most people could never fathom this working, but here they are. They love each other endlessly. They hold respect for each other. It's something that not many people have.

Her father may have wanted her heart to himself, but it found them, and that's all that matters.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess @jjsprobablywrong @Ipab @jayda12

[the-lonelybarricade]

A Blaze in the Dark - (10/12)

Summary: On the eve of her wedding, knowing nothing about her husband besides his apparent disinterest in his soon-to-be wife, Elain uses a spell to meet her true love in her dreams.

All my love to @itsthedoodle for beta-ing this when my anxieties were running amuck, I appreciate you! And also shout out to the angst eding anon for being so nice, I hope you enjoy!!

Read on AO3 ・Series Masterlist・Previous Chapter

-

An open doorway stood between Elain and Lucien.

One glimpse at her husband’s expression and Elain’s memory was cast somewhere far away. Her mother had once warned that a doorway should always be approached with great caution. She spoke of curses upon thresholds—woven nets of magic that could trap the thoughts and memories of anyone who walked through, if not careful.

But at the Archeron manor, magic was not a concern. When Lady Archeron advised her daughters to always brace themselves before passing through a doorway, it was not because she believed their memories would become trapped. But rather because she wanted her daughters to learn to use the concept as a tool. To act as if a curse had been enacted in every doorway, they crossed and to use that small, ingrained warning to remind themselves that any unladylike behavior should be stripped away before crossing the unseen barrier.

A doorway, she said, was always an opportunity for transition.

Elain recalled sitting on a plush stool in the powder room of the Archeron manor, quiet as she observed her mother pressing a cold spoon to her puffy eyes. She must have swiped it from the dining room after she had excused herself. Elain hadn’t heard what was said over the chatter and clinking silverware, but the unusual tightness in her mother’s expression had compelled Elain to follow.

It was the first time she’d seen her mother cry.

She met Elain’s curious gaze in the vanity and sighed. “Now remember, Elain. We came into this room because we were feeling overwhelmed—and ladies mustn’t look overwhelmed where others can see us.”

Elain nodded because her mother had put on the voice she used when she was imparting wisdom. The spoon clattered against the table as her mother set it down and practiced a smile in the mirror. Elain practiced one, too, despite the odd tightness in her chest.

“When we go back through that door, Elain, we leave our overwhelmed feelings in this room, understood? We let it take the unpleasant memory. And we pretend we’re thespians, putting on our masks to play our part.”

This was a trick Elain had already discovered. She nodded, showing her mother her best impression of a lady’s mask—chin tilted, shoulder blades pinched, smile primed. Her mother strained a hum of approval before returning to fixing her own mask. It was perhaps the first time Elain fully grasped that what stepped out of a doorway was not always the same as what initially stepped inside.

Now, Lucien was staring at Elain from the doorway to the bathing room. And she had the sense that something had changed. Been left behind and filtered through that invisible net.

He offered her a lazy smile, wet cloth in his hand as he’d promised.

And yet she found herself sitting up. Asking, “What’s wrong?”

Lucien crossed the room in long, casual strides. “Nothing at all,” he said.

He pressed the cloth into her palm before turning his back politely. As if it wasn’t his own release she was wiping from her thighs.

“If you don’t want to stay the night…”

Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.

What reason did he have to stay, anyhow? She had asked for help in making a child, and he had done just that. She had been the one to hint that he should stay, and like the gentleman he was, he’d spared her the embarrassment of rejection.

They had separate bedrooms for a reason. They’d agreed to a platonic marriage for a reason.

Once again, Lucien was making his feelings and intentions perfectly clear and she was choosing to complicate the matter with affections he did not ask for. And if she thought there had been something more to his tender touches and gentle words, that could only be blamed on her own hopeful misinterpretations. He was a kind man. Of course he would ensure the experience had been pleasurable, exactly as Vassa had said. Any further examination would be a disservice to them both.

This had been strictly a matter of child-making, she reminded herself.

“I will stay the night,” he said. Ever dutiful.

Elain should have left it at that for her own well-being. But she could recognize his heavy swallow, how the bob in his throat took the familiar form of unspoken words. And she risked cutting herself on their jagged edges as she pilfered the debris of his silence, guessing at what he was too kind to say to her.

But I do not want to.

But do not let this be an expectation.

But I will be gone before you wake up.

She set the cloth on the bedside table with too much force. Lucien’s shoulders jerked at the wet slap, and she suppressed an apology for startling him. It would not be what she was truly saying sorry for.

“Lucien,” she started—

“Elain.”

He turned to look at her. She could see him fighting to hide it, but there was a hollowness to him that hadn’t been present before. The flame in his russet eye was guttered. The golden one was spinning as though recalibrating. Lucien touched her thigh, much shyer than the bruising grip he’d kept when his head was buried between her legs. Had all that passion, all those honeyed words, been driven solely by lust?

His voice was quiet. “I’m staying because, just this once, I’d like to know how it feels to fall asleep holding my wife. I’ll do better by you in the morning.”

Just this once. Like he was doing it as a favor.

An indignant part of Elain wanted to tell him not to bother at all, but it was outweighed by her longing. She wanted to know how it felt to fall asleep in Lucien’s arms, too. Even if it was just this once. Even if it would break her heart in the morning.

Elain leaned over to snuff the gaslamp before her expression could slip into dismay, and Lucien took that as his cue to sink down beside her and pull the blankets over their bodies. It took a moment for their weight to settle, where the snaps and pops of the hearth filled the spaces between their breaths. She was afraid of what her voice would reveal, and Lucien clearly had no words to offer that would spare her unrequited feelings. Had she made herself too obvious? Too eager?

After a moment, as though he had been waging some internal battle with himself, Lucien shuffled closer to Elain and slipped an arm around her waist. All it took was a slight tug for her back to find his warm, solid chest. He curled around her, knees pressed behind her own, face against her neck, hips flush.

“Cauldron, you’re cold,” he murmured, rubbing his palms over her arms like he could banish the chill. She supposed, with the magic heating his skin, he was doing precisely that.

“You were in the bathroom for a while,” she said.

A subtle question, which was met with crackling silence.

She could sense him calculating his response, and perhaps she was vastly overthinking things. Maybe nothing had changed at all, and the time he’d taken in the bathing room had simply left space for reality to creep back in.

“Apologies for my neglect, then.” He kissed her on the shoulder. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

His heated palm slid from her arms to her stomach, moving in slow circles. Up her abdomen, along her hips, up and around her breasts. She arched into the touch, feeling her eyelids grow heavy as she focused on the soothing sensation. How infuriating—that he could be so doting and reserved at the same time. She wanted to scream at him, but all of her temper was being quelled beneath the movement of his hand.

“Allow me to call on you during my next cycle,” she said, only mildly joking.

“Please do.”

The ease with which he offered, the sincerity in his voice… Elain could not understand him. There was amity between friends, there was fulfilling their marital obligations, and then there were the fingertips dragging against her skin with a reverence that spoke of more than simple duty.

Elain summoned the courage to speak his name, prepared to ask him for the truth of his feelings, but it clashed with the sound of her own name on his lips.

His idle strokes paused.

“You go first,” she said.

“Do you remember what you said in the carriage, that secrets are a currency?”

And like currency, they can be exchanged, traded, lended. Or stolen.

She had said it to wound him because she’d been irritated by his secret-keeping and had wanted to remind him that he was not the only one capable of seeing beyond what a person wished to reveal of themselves.

“Yes,” Elain said, wary of its relevance here, now.

“I was going to propose a trade. In the interest of knowing more about my wife. One secret from you and one secret from me.”

A very dangerous game if she did not play it correctly.

“A secret of our own choosing?”

“No,” he said carefully. “It would be too easy to choose something irrelevant. I get to ask you a question met with honesty, and you receive the same.”

Elain fought to keep her body from tensing up, knowing that with Lucien’s body pressed against hers in every way possible, he would be able to feel it. And she would betray her guilt before he could ask anything condemning.

“You can go first,” Lucien offered.

Was it better to go first? She would be able to measure the vulnerability of his answer to gauge how much she should reciprocate. But he had clearly started this game with a question in mind, one that she would not be able to return by going first. And one she could not hope to guess at.

Then there was the matter of what she should ask him. There were too many things she wanted to know. And far too many of them would give away the hope turning on a spit in her chest. Lucien began moving his palm again, unaware each touch was another laceration. She shut her eyes, ignoring what she truly wanted to ask because she couldn’t bear the truth of it.

“How did you lose your eye?”

Lucien stiffened.

Elain was instantly flooded with guilt. “I’m sorry. It is surely a painful memory—let me ask something else.”

“No, it’s okay.” His voice had taken on a solemn quality that chilled her bones, even as Lucien’s arms tightened around her. “As you can imagine, it’s not a happy story.” He cleared his throat. “Before I reached maturity, one of my brothers had an illegitimate child with a commoner woman. As a result, my father forbade us from having any relationships outside of the matches he explicitly approved. All of my brothers broke the rules—quite frequently, I might add—but I was the only one who got caught. And my father decided to make an example of me. He took my eye and left half of my face scarred so that I would be… less desirable. I can’t say if it had that effect, but it kept me in line and coaxed me down the aisle, so he got what he wanted in the end.”

Elain’s stomach knotted. Not only had Lucien been given no choice in their betrothal, but he had been punished, severely, for seeking any other match for himself. No wonder he resented her, this marriage. She winced, recalling the accusations she’d hurled at him on their wedding day.

“Lucien—”

He was quick to press his lips to her neck like he might temper her horror with gentle touches. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel any guilt. This happened well before I was betrothed to Elain Archeron. Though I hope you might forgive me that I was too stubborn to court you properly before our wedding. And that I acted in haste trying to separate our lives.”

There were no words to fully express the deep, abysmal horror caving open inside her. She only managed a weak, “When did this happen?”

“Over a year ago now. My father gifted me this palace shortly after as an apology, though I think he simply grew tired of witnessing everyone’s sympathy. It might be the closest he’s ever come to remorse.”

Elain had guessed that King Beron was cruel, but she hadn’t known the depths. She thought of the Queen’s sunken eyes and the way Lucien’s hand trembled standing before him. How Vassa kept her voice low, always cautious of listening ears. For a man whom she had never seen step foot in this home, he haunted every corner.

“He’s a monster,” she whispered.

“He is.”

And this was their King. Her father-in-law, the man who would grandfather any of their future children. Elain pressed a hand to her stomach, contemplating if her desire to be a mother was worth one day exposing their child to Beron Vanserra. The thought of him holding their baby, knowing what cruelties he’d exacted on his own son…

Lucien’s hand fell over Elain’s, intertwining their fingers. “I am doing what I can to keep him away from you. Once tensions settle in the North, he’ll fix his interest elsewhere.”

“And if they don’t?” She struggled to stay her rising panic. “If Rhodes and the Eastern Kingdom go to war?”

“Then I pray my father will see no further use for you and Nesta as pawns. And that he’ll leave you in peace while I go off to fight.”

Then, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t become his hostage. Especially with Lucien gone, sent away to lead some war camp on the other side of the Kingdom. Would she ever see him again if that happened?

Lucien added soothingly, “Eris is convinced this conflict will resolve without war.”

She thought of his eldest brother’s cutting gaze, so similar in nature to Nesta’s icy stare. But where Nesta was all cold temper, borne from feeling too much, there was an underlying ruthlessness to Eris that caused Elain to suspect he felt very little for very few.

“And you trust Eris?”

Lucien huffed, not quite a laugh. “I trust that Eris will act in his own best interest. This war will serve nothing but Beron’s pride.”

“I hope you’re right.”

His voice was little more than a whisper. “I hope I’m right, too. And if I’m wrong, I’ll find a way to get you out. Maybe back to Carterhaugh or—somewhere else.”

Fleeing the Kingdom while Lucien stayed behind to fight a war? As the Lady of the estate, it would be disgraceful, even if she risked becoming a hostage in the dispute. But the way Lucien’s voice wavered gave her pause.

“Where else were you thinking?”

Lucien was quiet for a long minute. Then he said, “Before I left on my trip, you asked me what I would do if your True Love demanded I give you to him. I asked if you would want to go, and you didn’t give me an answer.”

“I-Is that—” Elain, tripping over her tongue, stopped for a moment to compose herself. She forced her voice not to wobble despite how the thundering in her chest tried to shake her. “Is that the secret you want in exchange?”

“No,” Lucien said, too quickly. Like he couldn’t bear the answer. “No, it’s just—It occurred to me that there is a true love somewhere, searching for you. And if everything here went to shit, I could take you to him and trust that he would look after you. He could give my wife a chance at happiness where I have failed.”

She twisted to face him. It was dim in the bedroom, but the hearth cast enough light to see his face. His cheeks, smooth and scarred and dusted with dark freckles. She raised her hands, drawing the backs of her fingers along both cheekbones. Those beautiful eyes watched her beneath pinched, wary brows. Her fingers curled beneath his strong jaw, and she rose to kiss each side of his face.

A pleased, startled noise kindled in the back of Lucien’s throat.

Elain held his gaze, saying with every ounce of her conviction, “You have not failed, Lucien.”

She could see him fighting the urge to add yet. He had not failed her yet. Elain didn’t want to press him on what he feared this conflict would bring, why he felt it would be necessary to smuggle her out of the Kingdom if war truly did break on the horizon.

Forcing lightness into her voice, Elain teased, “And how do you know that you aren’t my True Love? You could be delivering me to yourself, for all you know.”

But she knew. And she was a wretch for pretending she didn’t, but it was a nice thought. Lucien and her True Love, the same person. It would spare her the guilt of betraying her husband before their wedding while painting him as some callous monster.

Elain brushed her thumb over the pulse in Lucien’s neck, faint with a rhythm so familiar she could have sworn she’d listened to it all her life. As if all along, they’d been tied together by a thread that spanned the ever-changing distance between them. And their hearts were the expert musicians, plucking a song that could only be heard on the other end, through Autumn and Spring and the vast stone walls of the Archeron manor. She’d heard his song even before she’d had any awareness of him. She could hear it now.

And she knew what her heart, swelling in answer, was telling her, even if magic—if fate—said differently. Her heart beat more surely than a butterfly’s wing, anyway.

Lucien’s voice was strained. “I doubt the Mother would look upon me so favorably. I’ve done nothing to deserve a wife as lovely as you.”

“Nor I a husband so insufferable,” she said, hoping to draw out his smile.

His lips twitched. The world’s smallest victory. He leaned forward to brush a soft kiss against her forehead. “Sleep, wife, and I’ll endeavor to be less insufferable tomorrow.”

“But you didn’t ask me for a secret in exchange.”

“Another time,” he said, shutting his eyes decidedly. But he didn’t withdraw.

His lips were still pressed to her forehead when his breathing leveled out. And Elain, content in knowing he wouldn’t be sneaking away once she was asleep, allowed the warm darkness to slowly overtake her.

-

Falling asleep in Lucien’s arms was a perilous thing.

Elain knew just this once would be an excruciating promise the next time she tried to fall asleep and there would be no warm, sturdy arms to wrap herself in. She’d expected that by morning, she would wake to cold sheets and a deserted bed, her husband long retreated back to his own side of the palace as they had agreed upon the day they were married.

She wasn’t expecting the slow waking of lips against her neck. A nose, dragging behind her ear and burying in her hair like he was trying to memorize its scent. Elain made a soft, sleep-contended noise and turned her head to bury deeper in that warmth. His laugh rumbled against her cheek. She felt his arms tighten, readjusting to curve his body around her. The hearth had died in the night, but the morning chill was somewhere far away, a concern only for the maidens who weren’t presently cocooned by their husbands.

Elain hummed, her sleep-addled brain taunting her as she thought, this is how it feels to wake in the arms of someone you love.

Lucien kissed her again, this time on the crown of her head. He must have thought he could get away with more while she was asleep because those were his fingers lovingly tracing the shape of her spine. Warm, like all of the rest of him was.

She wanted to luxuriate in this moment for eternity.

A knock on the door reminded Elain that the Mother and her Cauldron would never be so generous. With a noise that sounded decidedly like a grumble, Lucien pulled away from Elain. Cold air invaded the space he left, persistent against the protest that rose in her throat. Even as she pulled the blankets back around her, the cold stayed, an unwelcome reminder that their evening of bliss had finally ended.

And Lucien was again the husband who wanted nothing to do with his wife.

At least he was a naked husband who wanted nothing to do with his wife.

Elain peeled her eyes into the bleary morning and found that the sight of his firm, rounded backside eased some of her disappointment. Lucien had nothing to cover himself, which was ever so fortunate for her, though less fortunate for the poor servant on the other side of the door.

Lucien cracked the door just enough to peer through the slim opening, shielding the worst of his indecency.

“Clothes for you, Your Highness,” came Vassa’s response. The dry humor to her voice caused Elain to duck her face into the blankets, hiding her laughter from Lucien lest he think it was at his expense.

If he heard, he didn’t glance over his shoulder to see what had tickled Elain. He merely extended a hand to accept the clothes and nodded to the lady. “Thank you, Vassa.”

He began to shut the door, but she hovered.

“Shall I have the cooks prepare a breakfast to be served in Her Highness’s room?”

There was a question behind the question, one which carried more weight than perhaps Lucien understood: will you be staying to dine with your wife?

At this, Lucien paused. Paused as if he did understand the significance. That here, now, he’d be setting a precedent for what came after these attempts to produce an heir. He could stay, could allow them to connect their hearts just as much as their bodies.

Or he could leave. And with something so simple as passing through a doorway, the memory of all those fervent touches would be caught and tangled in that infernal net, and the evening prior, which had meant so much to Elain, would be reduced to little more than a fulfilled obligation.

The floorboards creaked beneath her weight. Elain hadn’t meant to get out of bed. In truth, she’d wanted to preserve what precious warmth remained of their night together before the phantom heat of his body became only a memory. But her body acted of its own accord, and the old wood groaned loud enough to turn Lucien’s head.

Elain had not drawn anything to cover herself. Her skin prickled in protest at the sudden exposure to cold air. She felt her nipples harden and resisted the urge to cover them up, particularly as Lucien’s gaze dipped, shameless in raking his eyes over the sight of her body in the full light of day. Was it less alluring without the flickering candlelight, the golden fire?

It didn’t appear that way.

Indeed, there was nothing covering Lucien either, and she was able to witness precisely how her naked body impacted him. And maybe, in a fair bit of turnabout, Elain let her eyes wander, too. To the swelling arousal between his legs.

No wonder she felt sore.

“Your Highness?” Vassa asked, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door.

Elain tried not to squeak at the thought that only a plank of wood separated her friend and her fully erect husband. Lucien didn’t seem to mind or care. He was simply staring at her, not trying to hide the longing in his expression.

“Sorry,” Lucien answered distractedly, still not taking his eyes off Elain. “What did you… Was there a question, Vassa?”

“Would you like me to bring your breakfast to Her Highness’s quarters?”

From the look on his face, if he stayed, Elain had a feeling that she would be the breakfast.

After a long moment of consideration, Lucien’s jaw tightened. “No,” he said. “Bring it to my study. I’ve much to catch up on in my absence.”

There was a small pause in which Elain imagined Vassa bowing her acknowledgment. Her tone was more frigid than usual as she said, “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Vassa’s footsteps retreated down the hall. Lucien shut the door.

He hovered there, forehead pressed against the wood. Like he wasn’t prepared to face the fallout of his decision, the devastation she knew was plain on her face. She wouldn’t let him. By the time he turned around, Elain had slipped on the perfect mask of a lady. She was halfway to the armoire as if all that preoccupied her mind was what clothes she might wear today. It likely wouldn’t wound him to think she was indifferent to his answer, but at least she’d be spared the embarrassment of mistaking his desire for affection.

Neither of them made an effort to chase away the silence as they dressed on their respective sides of the room.

She thought he might even leave without saying goodbye, but Lucien paused with his fingers curled around the ornate door handle. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and turned to stride across the room. Towards her. Elain froze midway through buttoning her bodice, worried now that she’d upset him in her refusal to speak. Even as he stopped in front of her, she said nothing, hesitant to guess at his motives.

He lifted his hand, and Elain stood perfectly still as it glided over her cheek, so warm in contrast to the air pressing around them that she couldn’t suppress her shiver. He stopped with his fingers captive in her hair. Even Elain’s pride couldn’t keep her chin from tilting up when he leaned down.

Nothing—not silk, or flower petals, or the whisper of a butterfly’s wings—was softer than the press of Lucien’s lips against her forehead. He lingered there, allowing her to carve the sensation into her memory. The heat of his breath brushed over the crown of her head, the fingers curling into her neck. As if his body and mind were at war, half wanting to stay and the other half desperate to go.

She imagined it must be awful to desire someone he didn’t love. How conflicted his heart must be. One eye of russet that saw her for who she was—his wife, a woman with no greater control than he, who was struggling to make the most of their situation. And one eye of gold that must surely gaze upon her and see his injustices made flesh—a woman who caused him misery, who served as a lifelong reminder that he served the will of a tyrant.

Though it was painful to love and not be loved in return, Elain thought she preferred it this way. Love had always been something she expressed outward. First, with her sisters, with what ways she could find to bring a smile to their faces. Then, with her plants, where she learned to nurture the soil until the flowerbeds bloomed. She would not know what to do if the warmth in her chest went hollow and there was none left to extend to the world around her.

And she pitied her husband. Because she sensed he had never been treated with very much love and perhaps had never truly learned how to extend or accept it. He’d believed, possibly all his life, that even his marriage was to be loveless. They were so different in that regard. Even as he pulled away without meeting her eyes, Elain let herself hope that a day would come when he wouldn’t need to leave her bedroom on such a somber note.

For now, it brought her peace to know that their marriage would not be loveless, so long as she loved him. A small part of her delighted in proving him wrong that way.

-

Elain stared blankly down the long dining room table.

It was longer than any table her family possessed at the Archeron manor, equipped to fit as many as two dozen guests. She tried to imagine the clinking glasses and laughter that bubbled as readily as flowing wine, but all she could see were the countless empty chairs. Had such a thing ever existed in this palace? It was clear that the ballrooms and banquet tables had been constructed with lavish parties in mind. This was a place that was designed to be filled with music and dancing. Life.

That seemed a laughable concept to Elain, who’d spent the better part of the week with only herself for company. Vassa checked in regularly with tea and cakes and idle conversation, but this was Elain’s honeymoon, and it was improper for Vassa to take up much of the time that should be spent with her husband.

Should.

“His Highness will be taking lunch in his study,” Vassa said. She did not try to hide her irritation.

Nor did Elain restrain her sigh. She had not expected differently. Lucien had taken every meal in his study for the last week. He claimed it was a consequence of being away for so long, but Elain suspected he was trying to reestablish the separate lives they’d promised to uphold. They’d started off on the wrong foot, with her fever and the exchanging letters. The lovemaking. She’d become too accustomed to their proximity.

Once your fever has passed and I have returned from my journey, I’ll see to it that this palace feels far from empty.

He’d promised that before she’d asked him for a baby. Before they’d made love. Elain thrummed her fingers against the wooden table, staring at the vacant seat her husband had occupied on the one and only occasion they’d dined together. Maybe she’d asked for too much.

“Do you know what he’s doing in there?”

Vassa shrugged. “Paperwork from the looks of it, Your Highness. And lots of reading.”

“He’s been in his study all this while?”

“I think he’s slept in there a few nights, if he’s even slept at all.”

What was he doing? Surely, his governing duties had not accumulated so significantly that they required his attention day and night.

Elain rose from her seat. “Tell the cooks not to fuss. My appetite is fragile this morning, and I’d much prefer to garden.”

The servants had been bemused to discover her love of gardening, but she had not met the resistance she’d encountered at the Archeron manor. Vassa merely insisted she wear a fur cape to ward off the Autumn chill, and the gardeners had been happy to supply her with the tools and seeds she needed.

The grounds of the estate were well cultivated with short grass and perfectly trimmed conical shrubs, but aside from the yellow and gold leaves decorating the forests in the distance, there was no color. Elain was determined to change that, and she’d been using this week of silence to dedicate her attention to the flowerbeds on the east side of the building.

Maybe she was hoping that Lucien would open his window and see her crouched below. And maybe within the flowerbeds, she was trying to quietly grow the courage to storm into his room and demand justification for his neglect.

An hour into gardening, Vassa appeared with a tray of tea and small finger sandwiches.

“You’re too doting,” Elain said, brushing the dirt from her hands before reaching for one of the steaming cups.

“Well, someone ought to dote on you.”

She said it loud enough that Elain glanced towards the open windows above, nervous that the words might have carried. She was certain Vassa had raised her voice intentionally.

“Thank you,” Elain said, meeting Vassa’s eyes so she could see the sincerity of her words. These days, it felt like Vassa was the only one keeping her sane. Nodding to the second cup of tea, Elain asked, “Will you be joining me for a moment?”

Vassa shook her head. “Oh, no, Lady. I thought you might be tired of my company, so I’ve brought an extra cup of tea, hoping to lure someone to join you. If not your husband, perhaps one of the handsome guards stationed by the door? I imagine one of them would be grateful for the warm tea and warmer company.”

At this, Elain laughed. “Do you think so? I found the one with auburn hair rather charming.”

“The guards have a job, you know,” came a voice from above. Both Vassa and Elain glanced up to see Lucien, forearms propped against the windowsill of his study. His hair was tied loosely off his face in a braid, exposing the full cut of his jaw. Elain was grateful for the distance between them so that he couldn’t hear her breath catch, though she still earned a raised brow from Vassa.

“And you, husband?” Elain called. “Do you not also have a job? I’ve heard it’s so demanding you have little time for anyone else these days. Yet here you are, idle at the window.”

Vassa pressed her lips together. “Speaking of jobs,” she said, “I must return to mine.”

With an apologetic—or perhaps encouraging—squeeze on the shoulder, Vassa fled back into the palace.

“My curiosity drew me away from my work,” Lucien said. “I wanted to know what my wife was up to while she spoke so discourteously about her own husband.”

Elain drew herself up and crossed her arms. “If you were listening as closely as you’re pretending, you would know I didn’t say a word against you.”

“Nor did you speak in my defense.”

“Well, a lady mustn’t lie,” she said primly. “And, in fact, it has been so long since I’ve engaged with my husband that I’ve forgotten his true nature.”

Ignoring the jab, Lucien nodded at the plants and the dirt on her hands. “What are you growing? You mustn’t forget this land rests in eternal Autumn. No spring will come to reward your efforts.”

Elain huffed. “You underestimate their tenacity. There are plenty of flowers that can bloom in Autumn.”

“Even with the chill?”

She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Do you anticipate that beauty thrives only where it meets no resistance?”

His lips twitched, fighting a smile. “Having met you, sweet wife, I’ve learned that beauty may thrive under any condition.”

“Even solitude,” she said.

That dealt the killing blow to his smile. His voice took on an edge as he said, “While these flowers may survive the Autumn, surely they do so in spite of the conditions. Would they not be happier in a more fertile land, one blessed with warmth and sunshine?”

Elain looked at the flowerbeds she’d spent a week tending. She shook her head at the arrogance. “No plant is the same, husband. Which is why you must learn about them to understand what they need.” She gestured to one section of the soil, which appeared to be little more than dirt at the moment but, in time, would be bright, blooming flowers. “It’s true that flowers like these asters and dahlias prefer warm weather, and they’ll bloom here despite the conditions. But here—” she pointed— “These violas will flower because of the cooler temperatures. Put them in a warmer climate, and you will be hindering their growth.”

There was a moment’s silence in which Lucien seemed to mull over this description, weighing how much of her words held a larger meaning. “How strange that a flower would require adverse conditions in order to grow.”

“It’s not strange at all,” Elain countered. “Steel tempers in flame, doesn’t it? And humans grow wiser with each new encounter, particularly the unpleasant ones. Nature is no different—it’s likely where we learned it from.”

“You have a curious mind, Elain,” he said, his voice softer now. More like the curling steam from her tea. “I’d like to know all your thoughts one day.”

Elain took a sip before she responded. “That would require spending time with me, Your Highness.”

He looked pained. She thought he might turn back into his window entirely, but he burst out— “Tomorrow?” She only raised her brows. He added, “You asked me once if we could look at the autumn leaves. We could go on a ride through the woods together.”

She was surprised he remembered. And though she wished he had sought her without Vassa’s taunting, it was progress.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.

-

The next afternoon, Elain waited patiently for her husband to appear in the dining room. He hadn’t said he would join her for lunch, but she reasoned they would need to eat before setting off on their afternoon ride. The slightest sound from the hallway made her glance towards the doors, and though she coached herself not to seem too eager, she couldn’t help fiddling with the tablecloth while watching the entrance.

Finally, the dark mahogany wood swung open, and Elain was graced with company at last. Her smile faded once she saw that the arrival did not take the form of her husband but rather a scowling Vassa and a handwritten note which read,

My dear wife,

I’m afraid I am still held up in estate affairs and must postpone our ride.

I beg your patience for another tomorrow.

Your husband,

Lucien

Another tomorrow. She could see it now, their life made up of thousands of stagnant tomorrows, perpetually waiting for the one where Lucien would pity her enough to emerge from the eastern wing. She would not wait for another tomorrow.

“Pardon me, Vassa. I need to speak with my husband.”

Vassa flinched as Elain’s chair scraped back against the floor, but Elain marked approval in her fierce blue eyes. She bowed her head, stepping aside to allow Elain straight passage to the large double doors. From there, it was a matter of winding the halls back into the entryway, where the double-helix staircase stood proudly in the center.

Climbing the grand marble steps, she could admit that the staircase was an impressive feat of architecture, even as she fantasized about burning it to the ground. Besides being a tangible barrier in her relationship with her husband, she could not understand the practicality of a staircase that only connected to one side of the palace. It must have been a horrendous experience for the servants who had to climb to the bottom and back up any time they needed to move from one end of the palace to the other. But then, the architect likely hadn’t cared about the extra burden on the servants—the impracticality of the design was boastful in itself.

It did serve one purpose, however, and that was the slow kindling of Elain’s temper as she circled around and around, replaying all of her husband’s empty promises. That they would be friends, that the palace would feel less lonely on his return, that he would be present whenever she needed him. Up, up, up, she could feel her rage rising with every step, carrying her forward until she was before the door to his study.

Elain didn’t bother with knocking. She suspected he was up to something other than estate work, and she didn’t want to give him an opportunity to cover it up. Thankfully, a prince didn’t bother to lock the door. He expected that the respect of his servants was absolute and that his wife would accept his flimsy excuses with a meek smile and swallowed protests. Not any longer.

“Elain,” Lucien started, standing immediately from his chair. His russet eye was bloodshot. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” she repeated, fighting the instinct to raise her voice lest he dismiss her as hysteric. Her eyes flickered to his desk to see that it was littered with books upon books upon books. Many of them open, words scribbled in the margins and pages of notes scattered about.

What was he up to?

“What’s wrong,” she said through gritted teeth, “is that we have not spoken for a week, Lucien. And you dismissed me today with some meager note as though this is not supposed to be our honeymoon.”

Lucien opened his mouth, but before he could slip in some silver-tongued excuse, she pushed past him and surged for one of the books on the desk. The small black and white rendering of a butterfly made her heart sink, but what was worse were the words written beside it: How to contact your true love.

She looked towards him, not trying to contain her hurt. “I see.”

“You don’t,” he said stiffly, reaching for the book.

Elain reared back, holding it over her shoulder, though she knew he towered her in height and could take it from her with enough force. Lucien let his arm drop, saying nothing as she hopelessly glanced toward the other tomes on his desk. Spellbooks, all open to similar pages.

How to reveal a true love’s identity.

Locating a true love.

Magic and true love.

Her anger drained as quickly as it swelled, retreating like the tide from the shore.

“At last, the silence makes sense,” she said. Hardly more than a whisper. She shut her eyes. “If you are going to be taking a mistress—”

“I’m not,” Lucien said quickly. He stepped toward her, arms out like he didn’t trust she wouldn’t launch the heavy tome at his head. “Elain, I promise you—”

“I have had enough of your promises, Lucien!” Her voice cracked, and she dropped her head so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. She set the book back on his desk. “This has all made it plenty clear to me. My apologies for interrupting. I will return to my side of the palace, and you can keep to yours. Precisely the way you wished.”

Elain attempted to dodge around him, but Lucien stepped into her path. “I have not wished for any of this,” he said. She took a sharp breath, his words a knife in her chest. Lucien reached for her as if to offer comfort but stopped himself when she flinched. His eyes darkened, and his hand fell back to his side, fingers curling. “Elain, this is laughably far from what I wanted.”

“I know,” she said, more like an accusation than anything else. “You never wanted a wife and now you are shackled—”

“You are the one who is shackled.” He said it quietly, his voice so raw that her words dried on her tongue. Lucien ran a hand through his hair. “There are things about this universe that I will never fathom, Elain, and winding up married to you is one of them. This was supposed to be a punishment, a misery, and somehow, I’ve been gifted with the best of wives. And the only curse I can think of is that I’m to have this taste of happiness, and it will not be permanent. That you might be taken from me or worse.” He expelled the air from his chest in a dry, brittle laugh. “Or perhaps the torture of it is that I will be helpless in love while knowing that you loathe me, that I will forever stand in the way of your happiness.”

“I…” Elain blinked, looking again at the books on the desk. “Lucien, I don’t understand.”

“I think this is precisely what my father wanted,” he said, like that explained it all. He threw his hand out again, gesturing vaguely at her person. “He must have known that you would be lovely beyond comprehension. That you would bewitch me so thoroughly I would seek nothing more than your happiness. And that by trapping you in this marriage, that aim would be forever unattainable. Perhaps he wanted me to see myself in him. To understand how it feels to bear the resentment of a wife and watch her wither, knowing she would rather be anywhere else.” He followed her eyes to the desk, shaking his head. “I am not my father, Elain. I will not be my father.”

Love. He’d used the word love to describe his feelings for her, this marriage. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she couldn’t let herself hope, not yet. “You want to know what has been making me unhappy, Lucien?” She ventured a step toward him. “That you have been in here. All I have wanted this last week was to see you, talk to you. You promised me that the palace would feel less lonely when you returned. So what happened? Did I—”

Don’t say it, she could hear Nesta warn. Don’t let him know how much his absence has wounded you. It will give him too much power.

Elain’s lip wobbled, and she decided she didn’t care if it exposed too much of her heart. She wanted him to understand it, understand her. Voice broken, she choked, “Did I do something wrong?”

She watched his throat bob, working past whatever truth clogged his throat. Then he said, “I saw the butterfly wings, Elain.”

Feeling as if he’d struck her, Elain stumbled back. She laid a hand on her chest like that might keep the pieces of her heart from shattering. “W-what?”

“Beneath your sink,” he said. “I found them the night we made love, and I knew immediately what they meant.”

It was dreadful to think of what Lucien might have concluded. He didn’t sound angry, at least. She sensed there was no threat of him raiding the lands for whichever man was having clandestine meetings with his wife. At least not imminently. But did he think she’d been seeing her True Love in her sleep all this time? Did he believe her claim of loneliness was a farce, that she was trying to make a fool of him?

Elain shook her head, trying to quell the anxious thoughts swelling around her. “Lucien, please, you must understand—”

“You don’t need to explain it to me.” Rolling up his sleeves, Lucien returned to his desk. “Given your circumstances, why wouldn’t you seek him out? You deserve that happiness, and I won’t stand in the way of it any longer.”

“What do you mean?”

He reached for one of the spell books, skimming through the pages. “I’ve been trying to find a way to contact him. Perhaps you and Nesta can flee with him to the North. I’m sure your sister will provide the three of you refuge.”

“Lucien—”

He continued speaking, mostly to himself. “My father will lose his bargaining chip, and our Kingdoms will likely go to war, but the majority of it will be fought on our lands. You should be safe in Rhysand’s kingdom.”

“Lucien.”

At last, he looked up. It was midday, but with the curtains drawn, it was dark enough in the room that he’d lit the golden sconces on the wall. Elain maneuvered herself between Lucien and the desk, intentionally blocking the books from his sight so that he was forced to focus solely on her. Candlelight flickered in his red-rimmed eyes as they met hers.

Elain set her shoulders the way she was taught a lady should. Despite her shaking hands, she managed to keep her speaking voice level and deliberately slow, so that the full weight of each word had a chance to settle on him. She said, “I will forgive you for making so many assumptions about what I want without once consulting me. But I need you to understand three things, Lucien Vanserra.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before continuing, waiting for him to nod his agreement that he would listen without interruption.

Once he did, she plucked one of the books from his desk and chucked it to the floor. “Firstly, I have no intention of fleeing these lands or this marriage. I’m insulted that you so greatly overestimate my cowardice. Did you think you married a woman who runs away when things get difficult?”

Lucien, wisely, shook his head.

“Secondly.” The next book, which was thicker and heavier, hit the ground with a satisfyingly large thud. Lucien spared the leather-bound tome a brief, mournful look before he snapped his attention back to Elain. “I’ll admit that I sought my true love before our wedding. I was anguished that we had not had a proper courtship, and in truth, I did it largely out of spite. But I have not contacted him since I arrived at this palace, nor do I have any intention to. Burn the wings for all I care. True Love alone is not enough to earn my affection.”

Those full, perfect lips parted like he intended to say something. She cut him off by sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, “Finally—”

“Elain.”

She threw another of the books to the floor.

“You will listen!” She snapped in the wake of its silencing echo. He shut his mouth. “Finally, Lucien, I need you to understand that it does not matter that you are not my True Love. You will never be your father. Because I do not resent you, I do not loathe you. In truth, I love you so desperately that even fate cannot shake my conviction. I love you despite all of your foolishness and all of my own. You are my husband, and you are the man I choose to walk alongside, even if that may only ever be in parallel.”

Lucien said nothing once she finished, but she could sense him tracking her every breath like he was waiting for her to add something that would take it all back. His mechanical eye clicked as his gaze roamed from her eyes to her mouth, to her chest heaving out of her tightly laced corset. And finally, to the carnage she’d wrought on his study. The ancient—and likely valuable—books were tossed carelessly about, some of the spines likely now damaged, the pages folded over.

He offered her a sly smile. “Am I permitted to speak now, Your Highness?”

Just like that, all of the tension eased out of her. A small, astonished laugh bubbled out of her throat. “Only if you say nothing foolish.”

“In that case, it’s advisable I remain silent.”

Words weren’t required, anyhow. The way he reached for her hand and drew it carefully to his lips said enough. That soft kiss against her knuckles was a silent apology. The second, an admission that unfurled something warm in her chest.

“I have been a fool,” he conceded, bowing his forehead to the back of her knuckles. “I have been a fool helplessly in love with his wife. And you have been so patient with me.”

Elain winced. “I did wreck your study.”

“It was in need of redecorating,” he said, tugging gently on her arm now, trying to guide her into his lap. She obliged, perching herself delicately across his knees. One of his hands moved to brace her hip while the other raised to her chin, drawing her face down towards his. “You love me?” he said like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I love you.” She leaned down to kiss him, stroking a hand through his hair. His body was shaking. “But no more silence, please. I cannot bear it.”

“Consider it done,” he said.

“And the agreement we made on our wedding day, that we should live our lives separately?”

Lucien pressed his forehead into her chest, inhaling deeply before saying, “I am happy to cast it out of my memory for eternity. You can move into my bedroom in the east wing, or I can move to yours in the west. Or we can maintain separate bedrooms if you please, but I’d like us to at least be on the same side of the staircase.”

“And our meals,” Elain said. “We take them together from now on.”

“Happily. Our baths, too, if you’d oblige me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed.

“You’ll forgive me for trying my luck.” He kissed her shoulder. “There is one agreement, though, I’d like to keep if you’re willing.”

Elain felt wary at the suggestion. “Which agreement is that?”

She could feel the wicked grin spreading across his lips. His voice dipped low. “I’d like to continue our attempts to conceive if that still sounds agreeable to you.”

Oh. Elain felt something heat in her gut. She lowered her voice, too, to remind him, “It’s been over a week since our last attempt.”

He hummed against her skin. “Something I think we should rectify.”

With a grin, Lucien withdrew far enough to reach an arm around her body and swipe the remaining books off his desk. Then he lifted her so that she was sitting atop the wooden surface, his body wedged between her legs.

“I believe the study will do nicely,” he said. “What do you think, wife?”

Elain reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, the top button already loosened by the time she said, “I think it’s a good thing someone relocated all of your books.”

[elly99]

In The Moonlight

Part 1 of 3. Check here for more details.

Can we go where no one else goes? Can I know what no one else knows? Can we fall in love in the moonlight?

An evening in Milan. Another city that you were dragged along to by your parents. Being expats meant that they had to move around a lot for work. It also meant you were well off, but all you really wanted was to settle down. To have a real home.

You were in Italy for the week for vacation, but you'd return to Korea in a few days, where you'd continue to spend who knows how many years having to make new friends and learn another new language. It was tiring. Forming connections with people only for them to be broken in a few years. Adapting to a new culture only to move again when you were finally getting comfortable.

You also never had lasting relationships as a result. And at this point you were afraid of even trying. But the thought of not having to be alone in hotel rooms anymore always kept you hoping for something. Hoping for a real home. A home in somebody special. Though that was probably always going to be just a dream.

An evening in Milan. Another night with your thoughts running wild. You were out on your balcony watching the lights of the metropolis drown out the stars that you'd much rather see. Only the moon survived. Its light beautiful and comforting.

Then you hear a voice interrupt the drone of the city. It was bright and warm. Sweet. How velvet would sound if you could hear it. It was coming from the room next to yours, through the open balcony door. She seemed to be talking to herself, though you figured it was probably to a phone or camera. You recognized Korean but also English with an Australian accent. An interesting mix, you thought.

"And then there's also a really nice balcony!"

You quickly retreat just beyond sight as she walks out, staying within earshot to still be able to listen to her voice. She reverts back to Korean and, though you'd just started learning, you gathered that she wanted to take some pictures but wasn't very pleased with her skills. The ensuing silence hinted that she was taking the photos now and you couldn't help but sneak a peek.

And there she was. The prettiest girl you'd ever seen to match the prettiest voice you'd ever heard. But with her short stature and her hair in a bun you also found her incredibly adorable. Then you notice what she was wearing. All white and all Gucci. Even for you that was a lot, you admitted. She must have been a model for them, attending the fashion show that week.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't notice you'd walked out onto your own balcony to get a better glimpse of her. She waves at you and says a quick, "Hi!" before heading back inside. You wave back but she was already gone. Blushing and covering your face with your hands in embarrassment, you chide yourself for staring.

You hear her say, "Bye, I'll see you tomorrow!" from inside. You stay out on your own balcony for a while, hoping that she'd come back out again eventually, so you could apologize in case you made her uncomfortable. Not hearing anything for a while, you look back at the moonlight and resign yourself to your thoughts again. But right as you're about to head back she reappears.

"Hey! I'm sorry if I was a little loud. I was just filming a vlog."

"Hey, yeah! No problem at all! Sorry for staring. If I was. I can't be sure because I was lost in thought. I was just so, um, curious? About your accent," you half lie. "You were speaking Korean, right? But also..."

"Oh, no worries! And, yeah, it's complicated," she chuckles. "I'm from Australia but I work in Korea and now I'm here for a few days for the Gucci fashion show."

"I can see that," you say, laughing. She laughs, too, and it sounds just as sweet as her voice.

"What about you? What's your business here on this fine evening?" she asks in a mocking tone, keeping up the humorous atmosphere.

"It's complicated," you reply, copying her.

"Care to explain?" she asks with a smile.

"Well, how long do you have?"

"I have all night," she jokes, but something about her eyes tells you she's half serious.

"Ok, give me a few. I'll be right back."

You rush back into your room with the most absurd plan in your head and you called yourself stupid for even considering it. But there was just something about her. A connection. You wondered if she felt it, too. You spent the whole night cursing the universe for how it always ripped your connections apart. But the way she shone in the moonlight made you want to make a new one. It made you reckless. You wanted to get to know her. You were both away from home, on trips that would only last a few days. This would likely be the only time you'd ever see her. So why not do something dumb? What did you have to lose? It was now or never.

You put on your coat and shoes, left your room, and knocked on the door to hers. She opens the door slowly, peeking out from the small gap in the door frame.

"Hey! It's me. I was just wondering if you wanted to... um... go for a walk with me? I know it sounds stupid but I just felt something. Some kind of connection? It might just be me being silly. But I wanted to keep talking with you. This might be the only time we see each other, so I just thought..."

"Hmm, if my manager catches me... or if I'm recognized out there..."

It doesn't seem like she wants to go. But her door is still open.

"And I'm super shy..."

"Oh, yeah, that's completely understandable! It was a ridiculous question anyway. And it's getting late. What was I thinking?" You chuckle nervously, rushing your words. "I-I'm just gonna go..."

"But wait a minute! I wanna go," she says, eyes shifting, not knowing where to look. "I'll go with you."

Her reply freezes you in place. Stunned at her statement, barely believing what you just heard, you stammer, "A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Why not? Let's do this."

"Wow, I..."

"Let me just change into a different coat. Something less... um... conspicuous." She laughs and says, "I'll be right back!" then lets the door close behind her.

It was the second time you'd heard her laugh that night and you catch yourself falling for it. Thankfully the door just closed, because you were smiling like an idiot. Smiling because you were sure you'd just met an angel and because she was really coming with you. None of it made sense. But you figured that angels only came to you in dreams anyway.

She comes back out in a blue plaid coat and her hair down. More subdued but just as beautiful. She smiles at you but quickly looks away when your eyes meet. She was indeed super shy. But so were you.

"Let's go! Did you have somewhere to go in mind?"

"The Milan Cathedral is not far from here. Wanna go see it?"

"That sounds lovely!" she affirms, walking by your side.

Now alone in the elevator with her, mirrors on all sides, it was hard not to look at each other. You both fidget nervously but end up making eye contact again. This time you hold it for a bit longer and in the awkward silence you see that she's thinking the same thing. This was happening. You were committed now. In some strange way you were inseparable for the night.

Out on the street you lead the way to the cathedral, while she leads the conversation.

"So! You were going to explain yourself. What are you doing here? Did you keep it to yourself all this time cuz you're trying to kidnap me or something?" She was kidding but you realize that it could be a genuine concern.

"No, no! Of course not! I'm here with family. Just a short vacation."

"So they were with you in the room? Oh my gosh, did they hear me vlogging?"

"Nah, don't worry. They have a separate room. And what would be so bad about them hearing you? You have a really nice voice."

"Aw, thank you! That's really sweet of you."

"I bet you could be a singer."

She laughs to herself. "Yeah, that would be something." After a pause she backtracks. "Wait, so you have a room all to yourself? At that hotel?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You must be..."

"Rich?"

She laughs again. "Yeah. Are you? You must be."

"Well, my parents are. I'm just the fortunate kid who gets unfortunately dragged around wherever they go."

"Why unfortunate? Isn't it nice to see so many different places? Even I don't get to travel that much except for work."

"Well, that's just it. They travel for work most of the time. That means we're constantly moving and I have to adapt to living in different countries all the time."

"That doesn't sound so bad. Experiencing new cultures is always nice!"

"Oh, yeah! Don't get me wrong. It is nice. But then we move when I start to enjoy and get comfortable. When I start making really good friends at school. Then I end up missing so many people or even losing touch with them. It's just a little hard. I mean, I do realize that I am very fortunate. Just not with people I guess."

Awkward silence again as you wait for the traffic light. She doesn't quite know how to answer you, so she asks a new question instead.

"You ever realize how every person you pass by is living their own, very real life? But we pass by so many, maybe make eye contact, and never see them ever again."

"Yeah, definitely. There's a word for that. It's called 'sonder'."

"That's a word?"

"Mmhmm. In the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. I'll read the definition to you."

You take out your phone and look it up, somehow proud that you were teaching her something new.

"It's 'the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.'"

"Wow."

"After all that 'wow' is the only thing you can say?"

She laughs yet again. She could only do that so many more times before your heart melted completely.

"I mean what can you say to that, really? Don't act like you had more to say than 'wow' when you first read that. It's just so real."

"Fair enough. But yeah I think about that all the time. All the very real people you could possibly have amazing connections with but you'll just never know what could have been. You'll never get to know them."

"Yeah..."

"So I'm glad I didn't just leave you as that girl vlogging on her balcony. I'm happy you're here with me now."

As the cathedral heaves into view she looks at you and smiles, blushing slightly.

"Me, too."

For a few minutes you stay silent as you find a place to sit and appreciate the majestic monument that stood before you. You settle for a seat around one of the lampposts.

"So tell me! How did you end up in Korea?"

"Oh, I auditioned for a girl group and then..."

"Wait, so you are a singer! I knew it!"

"Yup! I'm just here as an ambassador for Gucci."

"Sorry, I'm new to all the kpop stuff so I probably wouldn't know your group. Or any group for that matter."

"No big deal! We're called NewJeans. I'll play some of our music for you later if you want."

"I'd love that! I actually just moved to Korea, so I'll probably learn a whole lot more about all that soon."

"Oh, really? Why didn't you tell me earlier? That's so cool! What a nice coincidence. Two non-Koreans living in Korea happen to meet in Italy for a night."

Her statement got you thinking. After pondering it for a while you say, "We're here in front of this huge cathedral, so I might as well ask. Do you believe in a higher power?"

"Mmm, I'm not sure."

"Sorry, that may have been too personal."

"No, that's alright. I do think the universe has a way of bringing people together. The right people at the right time. Like how I met my members. And I'm sure you feel that it can take away those people just as easily. But I'd like to think that even if that happens, they'll always stay with you if you really had a connection. They'll always be a part of you. So don't be sad that it's over, be happy that it happened. Or something like that. That's a Dr. Seuss quote, right?"

"Yeah. 'Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.'" And indeed you smile at that thought. "You're right. I'll smile because the universe brought you to me tonight. And even if we might not see each other after tonight, I'll be glad that you happened."

She laughs softly. "Are you always this cheesy?"

"Sorry. I just really liked what you said. Got carried away."

After a few moments of silence she says, "This feels like a dream. Like this shouldn't be happening, but here I am with you, a stranger, yet it feels right. It feels like this time is just ours. Like tonight is whatever we make it and the rest of the world doesn't matter."

"Yeah, I feel that, too." You pause for a few breaths. "It's just sad that tonight will eventually come to an end. We'll eventually wake up from this dream."

"But doesn't that give it more meaning? Knowing that things eventually end is what makes life meaningful, I think. Like, if we were sure we'd meet back in Korea in a few days, would you even have asked me to walk with you?"

"I guess you're right. I probably would've taken it for granted. So again I'll just smile that we have this time together. No matter what happens afterwards."

"And I'll smile that I took a chance with you."

"Let's just make the most of tonight then. Make this our dream together."

"Let's do it."

You spend what feels like hours watching the crowds come and go in front of the cathedral. She shared her music and you shared yours. As the winter night deepened, the wind grew more chilly, but somehow you didn't feel it. Her company was more than enough to keep you warm.

"I love this song! What's it called?"

"Hype Boy! It's really nice, isn't it? We actually have a meme, where if someone asks you a question, you just answer 'NewJeans Hype Boy'."

"So, like, if I ask you, 'Are you feeling cold right now?'"

"NewJeans Hype Boy."

You chuckle. "Gotcha. I see how that could be funny."

Suddenly she lets out a gasp. "Look! The lady over there is selling roses!"

"Wow. This late?"

"I'll buy you one. Hold on."

"I... Wait!" But before you can stop her she's already gone. And as you watch her run excitedly you knew you were falling for her. It was a simple gesture but there was something about her that made it feel like she was buying you the whole world. You see her point towards you as she makes the purchase before running back just as excitedly as she had left.

"She told me you looked like a star in the night and that you deserved more than one. So I bought you a bunch," she says shyly.

"Wow, I... Thank you!" To say that you were overwhelmed would be an understatement.

"And I agree with her. You do seem like a star somehow. Which is why, to answer your question earlier, I'm not cold."

"Me? What about you? You're a whole galaxy!"

Even in the dim light you see her blushing. "Really?"

"Really," you say with a reassuring smile. "Thank you again for these. I love them."

"Sure!"

Then there's silence again for a while.

"I mean, technically we both are stars. Or at least made of stars. Stardust. With their dying breaths old stars explode and release all the elements needed for life into the universe. I've always found comfort in that thought. That's why I like to look up at the stars."

"Is that why you were out on the balcony?"

"Yeah. Until a different star caught my eye."

"Oh, please!"

You giggle at the way you make her shy.

"Now that I think about it, it's similar to what you said earlier. Even when things end, good things can come of them. Just think: there was a star billions of years ago that exploded and its remains eventually coalesced and formed the earth. And then us. And now we're here together."

"That's beautiful."

Quiet returns as you both sit on those thoughts. After a while longer of watching the tourists snap their last pictures for the night and snickering at the locals who scoffed at them, she breaks the silence.

"I love the way the people dissolve into the background. Against the canvas of the city. You know how when you watch a time lapse the environment stays still while everything else moves like a blur. It's like the environment is more resilient to the passage of time."

"I guess that's just how human life is. Sort of quick and transitory. And I think I can relate to that even more. I feel like my life has just been a bunch of snapshots. Blurring together all the places I've been. All the people I've lost..."

She turns to you with a saddened expression.

"But after tonight, after this time with you, I know to make the most of it."

Her frown turns into a smile. "Yeah. It's not so bad that tonight is our only night. Even if it's just a fleeting moment in our lives. I'm so glad to have met you."

"Me, too. Let's just treasure the blurriness and awkwardness of life."

She nods in response and eventually looks back at the cathedral.

"Hey, you don't even know my name, do you?"

"What if we just don't share our names? We said we'd keep tonight like a dream after all."

"I like that."

You exchange smiles but behind them there was something more. You'd exchanged something deeper. A night together. A connection. A communication between the deepest parts of your souls.

"You wanna head back? We should probably get some sleep. I have a plane to catch tomorrow."

"Oh, you're leaving tomorrow?" A hint of sadness in her voice.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good," she replies. "Let's go."

On the way back to the hotel only a few words are shared between the two of you. But that was ok. There was a certain comfort in the silence. A certain comfort in the fact that although you didn't get to know each other's names, favorite colors or food, or what you liked to do on the weekends, you did get to know each other's hearts.

As you approach the door of her hotel room you feel a weight start to build in your chest. Was this really it? You answer yourself out loud.

"I guess this is it."

"Yeah, I guess so," she says as she opens the door and steps through. She turns back around with a smile that came from her heart. "Thank you for tonight. It was amazing."

"And thank you! You helped me change my perspective on a lot of things and for that I'll always be grateful. Tonight was so special."

She already has her hand on the doorknob but she can't bring herself to close the door. Her eyes dart from the floor, to you, then back to the floor. Finally, she makes eye contact with you and you see something like longing in her gaze.

"You wanna... come in? Stay with me for a while?"

You chide yourself for even entertaining the thought. This wasn't right. How could it be? You'd just met. But you also agreed that tonight would be a dream. A dream you both shared and made together. You weren't going to back down now. All you had was tonight.

"NewJeans Hype Boy," you say with a grin.

She had to cover her mouth to muffle her laughter in case she woke up the whole hallway. "Nice one. I thought we were having a moment there and you pull that one on me. But is that a 'yes'?"

"Of course. I'd love to stay."

For the first time that night she takes your hand and pulls you through the doorway.

You spend the time together on her balcony, talking about anything and everything, continuing to listen to each other's music, looking up at the moon. And with her in the moonlight you thought you felt something like love.

But there was that inevitability. Eventually you had to go.

As you stood at the doorway, preparing to leave, it was you this time who couldn't close the door. You couldn't let her go. Not after tonight.

"Hey, I... I don't want to do this. I know we said we'd keep tonight special, like a dream, but I don't want to lie to myself. I don't wanna lie to you. I can't do this. This can't be the last time. Can we..."

"Meet again?" She holds your hand gently and looks up at you.

You nod in response.

"I was hoping you'd say that. I don't think I could've let you go, either."

Then, to your surprise, she pulls you back in through the door and wraps her arms around you. An embrace so warm, not just because of her coat, but because she wanted you to stay. And from then on your lives were inextricably linked.

"Here's my phone. Give me yours."

As she enters her number you try to catch her name but she quickly moves your phone out of sight.

"Let's stick to the deal. We're strangers for tonight. Don't look until tomorrow, ok?"

You can only smile and nod at her proposition. Whether she was aware of it or not, she had done everything right that night to make you fall for her.

"I'll be quite busy tomorrow and I know you'll be on a plane, but text me when you can."

"I will. Thank you again for tonight. It meant everything to me."

"No, thank you! You made tonight unforgettable." And there goes her smile again. Tugging at your heartstrings.

You open the door for the last time and step out of her room.

"Good night."

"Good night! Sweet dreams!"

Back in your own room you knew you had no need for sweet dreams. She was the sweetest dream you could possibly have had that night. You fall asleep knowing you had fallen for her completely.

And when you wake up the next morning you knew that she wasn't just a dream. She was real. As real as the roses beside your bed. Because her number was in your phone. And her name was Hanni.

[lace-coffin]

Hi, I hope you're doing well, but can I request a headcanon where Bubba had a bad day and was a little sad and S/O starts giving him kisses and hugs to make him feel better. I like your blog so much!

Thank you so much for your sweet words! I’m glad your enjoying my stuff < 3

Reader comforting Bubba on a bad day

Gn!Reader x Bubba Sawyer

Requests are open!

You can see it in the way her shoulders sag like the weight of the world is being held on them, more out of it than usual and despondent. Even people as upbeat as bubba have bad days.

Unsurprisingly being the main bread (or meat lmao) winner for the family can be a big job, mentally and physically. He knows he’s doing it for his family, they need to eat, it’s not optional with the limited resources they have but..sometimes it’s so hard to disconnect from the people they kill. despite only being meat to the sawyer’s, bubba knows that they’re a loved to someone else, a sister, a mother, a new dad maybe.

They understand the weight of loosing a loved one, the entire family essentially falling apart at the seams when nubbins passed. It makes her sick knowing she’s responsible for the same heartache she’s experienced first hand. But is it truly her fault? Without him providing food his family will starve and he can’t bare to loose anyone else.

On days like these it’s best to keep her distracted, play games with the family if you can convince Drayton to begrudgingly join in. (He’ll do it for bubba but won’t admit it) preparing meals for him is a good idea, she’s unable to even look at the meat knowing the origin of it when she’s feeling like this. Try to make dinner more vegetable based on these days, you can even harvest the vegetables from the garden as an activity to take her mind off it. Don’t let chop help though unless you want to watch him throw dirt at his little sibling. He’ll clear off if you threaten to put an earthworm in his plate lol.

Insist on helping them with the dishes in the evening, dancing stupidly to music on the old crackly radio as you scrub. Thank him for his help and place little kisses on his cheeks, basking in his warmth like you’re the only two people in the world. safe in the sanctuary of the kitchen.

This regularly leads to clumsily slow dancing to unfitting music on whatever station you found first. Neither of you actually know how to slow dance, more just leaning into eachother and waddling side to side but you don’t care enough to learn, just happy to be held.

Eventually it’s time for bed, both of you exhausted, you from doing the brunt of the housework and bubba carrying that post depression exhaustion. Undoing the mask comes next, it’s not an easy feat. Bubba isn’t sure whether she feels more or less herself in the mask, unable to express herself without but bound to one expression in.

Gently pry the mask off and sit in front of the mirror with them, walk them through your favourite parts. Trace the bump of his nose, slightly crooked from a tussle with a victim, never quite healing right. Cup his warm full cheeks and dust them with kisses and praise. Tease your thumb over her plump lips, tell her they remind you of a cherub, sent from heaven just for you.

If you can love bubba than there must be something worth loving about himself, he thinks.

Being the big spoon is a good idea in these moments, let them feel small and protected under you, tracing over their curves and freckles gently, making them whine and shiver. She’ll never completely forgive herself for the things she’s done but it helps that you see beauty in her, the love, the compassion, the emotion. She just wishes she could see those things in herself on hard days.

For now this is enough, the coziness of your body blending into his until it’s unidentifiable where you begin and bubba ends. In some ways it already feels like you’re becoming part of eachother the longer you bond and the deeper you fall. You fall asleep after whispering a hushed “I love you” into their hair and receiving bubba’s sleepy equivalent of the same. Today was tiresome but the sun will rise again over the homestead, bathing the two of you in warm light and readying you for another day in eachother arms.