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astraystayyh · 11 months

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The only exception

barista Minho x reader. strangers to lovers. slow burn. if you can, listen to The only exception by Paramore while reading :)

Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

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Minho sweeps the countertop with a blue rug, wiping away the scattered droplets of spilled coffee. He grabs a pastry from the showcase- a blondie with a raspberry drizzle on top, placing it on a plate decorated with dainty flowers. And then he gives it to the middle-aged man sitting near the back of the café.

Minho is in Aurora, completing his mid-day shift, and yet it feels as if he's only physically there. His body is moving on auto-pilot, mechanically performing the familiar tasks etched into his memory by now. And he likes it, since it drowns out the tumultuous thoughts plaguing his mind.

Minho used to look forward to the days when Marta- Aurora's exceptional baker, would prepare blondies. The alluring aroma of the freshly made pastry would waft through the café, enveloping both Minho and the customers in a soothing embrace. He enjoyed preparing the coffee and drawing different pretty patterns on top of it. He also liked the music playing, and sometimes, the manager would even let him play some of his own playlists.

But that was before Minho got his heart broken, torn in half, carelessly, as if it didn't belong to a breathing human, but rather to an unfeeling entity. Now, his lattes are void of intricate designs, the blondies prepared by Marta remain untouched, and his mind doesn't register the music playing.

He's just existing, in a stillness he perfectly curated. He's a placid river, undisrupted, running its usual course day after day.

Minho watches as the man clad in a polished suit finishes his treat, before getting up and leaving Aurora with hurried steps. He eats alone now, Minho has noticed, and his ring finger is void of the gold band he used to wear.

Perhaps that's what Minho's fate would also be. Eating alone in cafés he used to bring his lover to, basking in the chatter surrounding him, in the desperate hope that it'll fill the void inside him.

ii.

it's a Thursday, which means Minho is working the night shift at Aurora. It's pouring rain outside, the incessant water droplets a misty veil that fogs up the café's windows. Amidst the downpour, he catches sight of a couple dashing through the rain, hands tightly clutched into one another. They're giggling, as if the rain falling isn't a nuisance, but rather an elixir heightening their love. Minho looks the other way.

The door to Aurora is pushed open, and Minho watches as you set foot inside. You're drenched in rain, from head to toe, strands of your hair sticking to your cheek. You exhale in relief, closing your eyes for a split second as the warmth of the café surrounds you- like a childhood blanket tightly wrapped around your being. There is a hint of a smile as you walk to the counter. It only grows when your eyes set on Minho.

"Hi!" you greet cheerfully and he simply nods in return. The weather was horrible and you were probably uncomfortable from the clothes clinging to your skin, so what were you exactly joyful about?

"Can I have hot chocolate, please? Oh, and a piece of that brownie," you point to the showcase, and he follows your line of sight.

"Sure, anything else?"

"No, thank you," you smile, and he nods once again. "That will be 10 dollars."

"Here," you hand him a crumpled bill and he takes it from you carefully, ensuring your hands don't brush against one another.

You sit down on a chair near the window, and Minho dutifully prepares your order. He brings it to you once he's done, and you grin at him once again. You smile a lot, he thinks to himself.

Minho goes on with his tasks, cleaning the dirty cups in the sink and grounding the coffee beans. When he's done, he can't help but notice you grabbing some napkins from the table and dabbing your neck and face dry with them. He sighs to himself before retreating to the café's backroom.

"Here, to dry your hair with," he says, handing you a clean towel.

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again.

iii.

It's Tuesday, and Minho has just served a freshly baked cinnamon roll to Mark- the middle-aged man who just introduced himself to Minho after months of frequenting Aurora.

Minho liked having regulars in his shifts, familiar faces to look into. This was part of the reason why he picked being a barista as a part-time job- he enjoyed people-watching. Not in a noisy way; he simply liked imagining the lives of the people surrounding him. It served as a distraction from his own.

Among the regulars was a woman in her thirties who only ordered a chaï latte with a blueberry muffin. Then there was that one student, with blonde hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He really despised bitter coffee, always ordering his with abnormal amounts of syrup.

And now, there was you too. You've been coming to Aurora regularly for the past few weeks since your initial visit. Minho still hasn't memorized your go-to order because you don't have one. You pick a new drink each time as if you were on a mission to taste everything on the menu.

You come here alone, occupying the same seat by the window with your chin resting on your palm. He suspects you enjoy people-watching too since you often gaze outside. You also bring books with you, reading them while sipping on your beverage. Sometimes you write too, in a tiny sage notepad.

And you smile, god do you smile a lot. At young children passing by in the street, at an elderly couple holding hands, at the black cat that sleeps on the edge of the window. And you smile at Minho. Each time you order, each time your eyes meet his from across the café. Minho likes to believe that happiness was so deeply ingrained within you, it became the very essence of your soul- an intrinsic part of your being you could not part with.

The door to Aurora is pushed open and Minho isn't surprised to see you entering once again, your bag loosely hanging from your shoulder.

"Hi!" you greet excitedly as you usually do, and Minho simply nods, as he usually does.

"I'm sorry if this is a bit weird," you preface, piquing Minho's curiosity. "I'm not really craving anything today, so can you make me your favorite drink?"

"My favorite drink?" he repeats, a bit incredulously and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I drink anything and I don't have any allergies, so whatever you prepare is fine!" you smile hopefully at him.

He stays silent, mulling over your request. He goes to say no, but the smile slowly slipping from your face makes a strange pang of guilt wash over him.

"On second thought, I'll just have-"

"Okay," he interrupts, "I'll bring it to you when it's done," he quickly says and the smile etches itself on your lips once again. Minho feels an unexpected relief dawn on him at its sight.

"Thank you! I'm yn, by the way," you introduce.

"Minho," he says, although you can read it on his nametag.

"Minho," you repeat, and he finds himself itching to hear his name dripping from your lips again.

Minho prepares you an iced americano with cold foam, and two pumps of white mocha, since you seem to enjoy drinks on the sweeter side. He watches breathlessly from the counter as you take a sip of it, closing your eyes to fully relish in its taste. Your nose scrunches up in delight before you quickly turn around to shoot him a thumbs up from afar.

Minho nods, before turning his back to you. Unwillingly, a small smile tugs at his lips. He's glad you liked it.

iv.

Another Thursday unfolds following its usual routine. Mark occupies his customary spot in the rear of the café, while the scent of Marta's lemon madeleines permeates the kitchen.

Except you're not smiling.

Minho finds it odd, how there was no cheerfulness in your steps as you walked to the counter. You did not smile while ordering, and your voice carried a tinge of sadness when you thanked him.

You did not ask about his day, nor about his cats- that was also something unusual for you to do. You've asked about them each time since Minho told you about them. He didn't plan on doing so, he just saw you one day eyeing the stickers of his three cats on his phone case, while he was counting your change.

"Are they your cats?" you asked, pointing at them and he nodded, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"They are."

"You must love them a lot. They almost managed to make you smile," you teased, grabbing the rest of the money and walking to your usual seat.

Minho steals brief glances at you, as he prepares your matcha latte, a drink you seemed to enjoy a lot lately. You're gazing at the window almost soulfully, your back slightly hunched as if there was an invisible weight crushing you underneath it.

Minho nibbles on his lower lip, contemplating his next move, before grabbing the frothed milk. For the first time in months, he draws a little cat on the surface of your drink, just like he used to do a long time ago.

He brings it to you, and his heart flutters nervously as you gaze down at the cup. He almost second-guesses his action, that is until you beam at him, and Aurora suddenly feels brighter than it did seconds ago.

"When does your shift end?" you ask Minho as he sets your perfectly crafted matcha latte on the table- an order he has committed to memory by now.

"In an hour, why?" he asks curiously and you wave your hand dismissively. "Just wanted to know."

The seconds trickle by slowly, as the hour almost comes to an end. You watch as Minho takes off his apron, running a hand through his hair. It's gotten longer now, silky bangs he tucks behind his ear to keep them from obstructing his vision.

He talks a bit to Seungmin, the other barista that works there. And then he steals a quick glance around the room, where he finds you already looking. You wave him over, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, before walking to your table.

"Sit down," you smile, gesturing to the chair in front of you. Minho complies silently.

"Here," you take out a container filled with brownies from your bag. "I never properly thanked you, for the towel and for the little cat you drew on my coffee last week. So, here, thank you," you beam at him while sliding the box in his direction.

"I don't- it's nothing, you didn't have to," he says, and you notice a tinge of pink blush covering the tips of his ears.

"I wanted to. I hope you'll like them, I'm not as good as your baker, but I tried," you confess, smiling sheepishly, and Minho feels a sudden urge to vehemently contradict you, to tell you that they must taste good. And even if they didn't it wouldn't matter, because you baked them for him. And that is enough.

But he bites the inside of his cheek harshly, physically stopping this rush of words eager to escape his mouth.

"Let's eat them together, hum?" he simply suggests, opening the container and placing a brownie on your plate before taking one himself.

"Is it good?" you ask tentatively and he pretends to contemplate your question for a moment.

"They're horrible, right? I shouldn't have taken creative liberties with the recipe and-"

"Yn, I'm just kidding," he stops you, a soft smile on his face. "They're delicious, see," he says, finishing the brownie in one bite. "Really good," he compliments, reaching for another piece.

"Okay," you smile in relief, eyes crinkling closed. The sunlight is streaming through the window, casting a golden shadow on your face. You are swaying contently in your place, as you take another bite of the brownie. And you look happy, with him. Minho thinks the brownies are the best he's ever had because he's sharing them with you. Because he got a taste of your happiness through them.

vi.

"Can you believe that professor? He failed half the class and he still thinks he isn't the problem."

You are venting to Minho about your stuck-up Economics professor, while leaning against the countertop. He's listening intently to you, drinking in the details of your face as you talk to him. For some reason, he finds the smile lines on your face mesmerizing, that and the way your eyebrows move with your every word.

These subtle details have been engraved into his memory since the day you gave him the brownies, two months ago. He has grown fond of you, sitting at your table at the end of his shift without you having to ask. You also hang out outside of Aurora, going on frequent walks and discovering new food spots. He never felt that the conversation between you two was strenuous, or forced. It flowed naturally, like a waterfall knowing exactly where it should go.

He also finds that smiling is easy with you. At your jokes, your stories, and your existence. He's lost count of the times he found himself grinning widely at your words, or smiling softly to himself at the thought of you coming to Aurora soon.

"He's too full of himself to admit he's the one who sucks at teaching," Minho comments and you clap in agreement.

"Right! And it's so funny because..." You're still talking but your words go unheard by Minho, like a mindless buzz in the back of his mind. He's frozen in his place, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage as he notices the couple who just came in.

His ex, with the man she cheated on him with.

"Minho? What's wrong?" you call out, snapping him out of his daze. You're eying him worriedly, and only then does he realize how tightly he's holding the countertop.

"Nothing," he curtly replies, as he plasters a neutral expression on his face.

He watches as his ex's eyes widen slightly when she sees him. She forgot he was working here. Of course, it'd be easy to do so since she never visited him at Aurora anyways. Despite the flood of emotions cursing through him, Minho maintains a stoic facade, taking their orders as if she's a mere stranger and not the one behind his shattered heart.

As Minho attempts to prepare their coffee, his hand trembles uncontrollably, forcing him to stop before dropping the milk.

He didn't love her anymore, he was certain of it. But still, the sight of her brought unpleasant memories back to the surface. Ones he tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind. And Aurora was his sanctuary. One, she never tainted with her presence. Has she not taken enough from him already?

"Minho?" you call out softly, and Minho feels guilty because he left you alone with no explanation. Still, when he turns around, he can tell you aren't upset. You are worried, looking at him cautiously.

"Is everything okay?" you ask once again, and this time Minho can't find it in him to lie to you, so he simply shakes his head no.

"Your hand is shaking," you observe, before gently grabbing it in yours. You cover his hand with both of your palms, squeezing it lightly to steady the tremors cursing through it.

Your hand is warm, and very soft, a stark contrast to the sharp emotions surging within him, like pine needles puncturing his heart.

"Would you like me to serve them?" you ask softly, and Minho isn't surprised you picked up on his unease. You're perceptive, it's one of the things he likes about you.

"Please," he responds quietly. You simply smile, reaching for an apron and wrapping it around your waist. You look adorable, intertwining yourself with his world, and the sight of you eases the ache in Minho's soul.

A few minutes later, you grab the tray from his hands and walk over to their table. Minho chuckles inwardly when he notices that you didn't smile at them, serving them with a blank face, and his chest warms a little.

He has you on his side.

Five days later, you're sitting besides Minho on a bench; watching the sun as it dips into the ocean, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow. Yet, the dazzling colors are the last thing on Minho's mind. All he can think about is you. How you helped him with serving the rest of the drinks that day, how he taught you how to work the coffee machines- a solace from the ugly feelings that roared in him.

"Thank you," he abruptly says and you turn to look at him, perplexed.

"For what you did the other day, with the couple that came in. That was, um... my ex and the person she cheated on me with," he confesses quietly, fiddling with his earlobe. He didn't need to tell you, but he wanted to. "I've moved on, it's just... seeing her again hurt. I don't know why."

Your eyes soften at him, not in pity, but in care. And Minho doesn't mind being vulnerable with you. It's scaring him, but he doesn't mind.

"It's normal for it hurt, it would honestly be weird if it didn't," you smile gently and he sighs in reply, running a hand through his hair.

"I wish it didn't."

"Love is a powerful feeling, it consumes our entire beings. That's why it hurts when our hearts are toyed with. But love itself doesn't hurt, I feel like it's what makes our world move. You know, the little gestures humans do for one another, that are fueled by love. Like, um... scratching someone's back or peeling someone's fruit. You don't have to do those things, but you do. Because you love the person, and it makes your existence feel gentler, and softer on the heart." You explain, the words leaving your mouth and wrapping around Minho's soul, healing parts of him that he didn't know were bruised.

"My point is, it's normal for you to be hurt. But I hope you don't close your heart entirely to the feeling. Because we may not have grand things in our life, but if there is a hand that brushes our tears away and one that folds our laundry, then that's enough for us to lead a beautiful life."

Minho blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay. He felt as if the letters you uttered unfolded and stretched in front of his eyes, morphing into a gentle hand patting his back. Yours.

You smile softly at him, the water's reflection shimmering in your eyes. And Minho thinks that he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown- into you.

"How do you do it?" he chuckles in disbelief, as he leans a bit closer to you. "You make me want to believe in love again," he pauses, before adding quietly, "but only if it's with you."

You remain silent as Minho fidgets with his fingers, before tentatively grabbing your hand in his. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers naturally intertwine with one another- as if finding each other after a lifetime of being apart.

"You know, I'd thought I'd always live like this, keeping a comfortable distance between me and people," he says, raising his head to finally meet your eyes, "and up until now I thought I was content with it, with loneliness, I mean. But... but brownies taste sweeter when I'm with you, and Aurora is brighter when you are in it, and smiling feels like second nature around you. And I don't... I don't think I can go back to being lonely again, not when I've had a taste of you in my life."

Minho's heart is beating wildly into his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears, frantically, as if to warn him against what he's about to say. But your thumb caresses his palm reassuringly and he wants to try again. With you.

"I- I never wanted to love again, because no one, none of it was ever worth the risk, but you... You are the only exception."

Minho exhales breathlessly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to your chest. You hoped that your warmth would ease his nerves a bit, that your hand on his back would feel gentle on his soul. You didn't want to rush your answer, trying to think of something that will patch up the deeply carved scar in his heart, a perfectly made band-aid in the shape of syllables.

It's a foolish hope, you realize, to instantly quiet the cries of a bruised spirit. So you simply settle on saying the truth sitting on the edge of your tongue.

"It will be quite hard, and scary for you," you whisper placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade. "But I'll help you, if you'd let me. I'll take care of your heart better than I do with my own."

vii.

"Hey, baby," you smile at Minho, slipping behind the counter to be by his side. He pulls you by your waist, kissing your cheek softly.

"I missed you," he pouts, and you giggle, playing with strands of his hair, "I missed you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asks, a shy smile gracing his face.

"No...?" you trail out and he chuckles, taking your hand in his.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss my birthday. It's just... it's been a year since you first came into Aurora."

"You remember?" you ask in amazement, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you.

"Mm, how could I forget you? Also," he sneakily points to a table near the back, "my favorite couple is back."

You turn around, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as you find Mark gently holding the hands of his date. You smile happily when you finally notice it- the wedding ring, finally back on his finger.

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imaginesmai · 8 months

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Right around the corner - Azriel (5)

AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!

(1), (2), (3), (4)

Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.

Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.

No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.

You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.

It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.

When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.

“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.

“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”

“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”

Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.

And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.

So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.

“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”

“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”

“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”

Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.

You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.

It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.

You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.

Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.

If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.

Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath. As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.

“Hi”

His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.

You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.

Unable to move, you only blinked.

“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”

Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.

The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.

The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.

“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.

“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”

Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.

“I have things to do”

You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.

You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.

His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.

Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.

The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.

Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.

“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.

The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.

There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.

Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.

You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.

After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.

You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.

In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.

The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.

Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.

Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.

“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”

“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”

“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”

“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.

The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.

You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.

The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.

That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.

“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”

“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”

“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”

“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”

You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.

But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.

And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.

The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.

“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.

While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.

At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.

The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.

“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”

It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.

People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.

Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.

There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.

It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.

You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.

You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.

“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.

“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”

Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.

Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.

Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.

“You don’t like last minute shopping”

It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.

Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.

But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.

“I had to” you answered.

With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.

You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.

Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.

“I should go”

You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.

“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”

You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.

Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.

Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Sorry”

That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.

So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.

It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.

The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.

“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”

“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”

“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “

“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”

You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.

But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.

Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.

Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.

You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.

The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.

It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.

If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.

You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.

“Y/N”

Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.

It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.

“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.

“Just came back. I was…”

Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.

Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.

He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.

Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.

“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”

“What happened?”

Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.

He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.

Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.

“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”

He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.

But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.

Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.

“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”

“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.

“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”

Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.

It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.

Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.

“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”

Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.

As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.

Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.

“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”

And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.

What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.

You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.

It had.

“Az”

It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.

Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.

So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.

“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “

“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”

Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.

The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.

You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.

But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.

“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”

You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.

At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.

Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.

From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.

“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”

“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.

“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”

“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”

“Always”

“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.

While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.

Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.

“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”

“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3 @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @wallacewillow0773638 @just-m-2 @theravenphoenix26 @glitterypirateduck @a-frog-with-a-laptop @justdreamstars

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theamberfist · 2 months

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How I Met Her Mother | Tighnari x Reader

Romantic: Tighnari x Collei's Parent! Reader

(Notes: none) (gender neutral reader) (reader is Collei's adoptive parent)

Description:

When Paimon and the traveler discover Tighnari's ties with Collei's adoptive parent, he begins to reminisce about their past together.

Tighnari watched from outside his hut as you walked with Collei on the path below, smiling and chatting comfortably in the afternoon light. He took note of how your eyes seemed to sparkle, and how genuinely relaxed you seemed.

The sight, which was becoming more and more rare by the day, made his lips curve up into a soft smile. For as long as he'd known you, he'd found that seeing you happy happened to be his favorite thing, and now was no exception to that.

He recalled the letters you'd sent to him in Gandharva Ville just a few months prior, wincing at how anxious and worried you had seemed back them. Of course, there were plenty of reasons to feel that way in Sumeru these days, but something about seeing you that way had always gotten to him in ways that other people's fears never had. He didn't want you to have to worry, even if the feeling was very much warranted.

That was why he had ultimately suggested you move to Gandharva Ville, hoping it would at least ease your worries a little. Luckily, it seemed to be helping so far. If nothing else, it meant you could be closer to Collei all the time, which made you feel a lot better.

"Tighnari, hello?" A high pitched voice startled him out of his wandering thoughts, and he turned to see Paimon floating out of his hut with the traveler following behind her.

"What is it, Paimon?" He sighed, crossing his arms and glancing back towards where you and Collei had stopped walking to take a seat on a couple of rocks next to the river below.

"Paimon was just going to tell you we're ready to head out, but you seem distracted." The pixie replied, floating closer and following his gaze to where you and the green haired girl were sitting. "Who is that?" She pointed at you, and Tighnari quickly looked away, both to hide the hint of pink in his face and to prevent himself from continuing to stare. Once he felt he'd recovered, he turned back to the pair calmly and pushed himself to stand up from the wall he'd been leaning against.

"Oh, they're Collei's adoptive parent," he explained, "They recently moved to Gandharva Ville to be closer to her and help with her Eleazar."

"Her adoptive parent?" Paimon repeated, "But they don't look any older than you!" He chuckled at this, knowing you got that a lot. You always had the best responses when people commented on how young you looked for someone who was the parent of a teenager. Usually it was something like 'yeah, I moisturize' or 'then it seems my sacrifices for eternal youth have been working.' Unfortunately, Tighnari wasn't quite as creative as you.

"They aren't," He replied simply, "But when Cyno brought her back from Mondstat after she was freed from Dottore, Y/n was the one that stepped up to help her, despite being fairly young themselves. They've been caring for her ever since."

"They seem very kind," Aether smiled, "I hope we get to meet them soon."

"I'm sure you will," Tighnari replied simply, "But we should get going now. Those withering zones aren't going to destroy themselves." With that, he headed down the wooden bridge and began leading the way towards their target area, happy to have been able to change the subject.

Although he didn't mind talking about you and especially the kind things you'd done for Collei and everyone else in Gandharva Ville, it was also a blatant reminder that he still had yet to tell you the truth about his feelings, something he preferred to avoid thinking about.

Unfortunately, it seemed Paimon's curiosity about the topic of you still had yet to be satiated as the three of them made their way to the first withering zone.

"You seem to know Collei's parent pretty well Tighnari!" She chirped, completely ignorant to his embarrassment when it came to talking about you, "How did you two meet, anyway?"

"How did we meet?" He repeated, a warm feeling enveloping him as the old memories surfaced. "It's a long story, but I suppose I could tell it. We have time now, after all." With that, he took in a breath before starting at the beginning.

..........

You and Tighnari had both been students of the Amurta Darshan of the Akademiya. You had one or two classes together, but ended up interacting very little since his studies focused more on plants and nature while yours revolved around medicine.

But that all changed one day when he had been injured while doing some field research for a project. He was brought into the infirmary and you, who had been participating in a work-study under the nurse there, were the one to treat him.

Though Tighnari couldn't remember the details of his visit very well anymore, he still vividly recalled how kind you had been to him. Even though he had very obviously been injured due to his own stubbornness and refusal to wait to finish the assignment, you had been very patient while helping him heal. When he looked at you, there had been no judgement in your eyes, only a strong desire to help.

"I'm Y/n." You'd introduced yourself upon entering the room, "I don't care how you ended dup here; what matters is that you get better now. I'm still an apprentice, but I'll do my best to help you."

Since the Akademiya's environment tended to be so hostile, that was the kindest anyone had been to him since his arrival, and it really stuck out to him.

Even after he was able to leave the infirmary, the two of you had decided to keep in touch. Since you were part of the same Darshan, it wasn't difficult, either. You often studied together, ran into one another in the halls, or attended the same school events. The more time you two spent together, the more you found yourselves getting along, and the more time he wanted to spend with you.

He could vividly remember graduating with you and Cyno, and how bittersweet that day had been.

Yes, it was everything you'd worked for over the last years spent at the Akademiya. But it also meant you'd all be going your separate ways, and that he might not get to see you again for a while.

Even though you promised to keep in touch, he knew your visits would be infrequent now that you were moving to the desert to practice medicine there.

And for a while, he was right.

..........

When Cyno showed up in Gandharva Ville with Collei, it had been during one of the rare occasions where you were visiting.

At first, Tighnari had been a little irritated at the interruption. That was, until you both saw the little girl that the matra had brought with him. He'd never seen a child look so scarred and fearful before, and it must have touched your heart as much as it did his, because then you were pulling Cyno aside and demanding to know what had happened.

He hadn't planned on bringing you into the situation originally, taking Collei to Gandharva Ville to ask Tighnari if he'd be willing to look after her instead. But as soon as you heard everything the girl had gone through, you insisted on being the one to look after her.

Tighnari had always admired how caring you were, and your insistence on being the one to help Collei had only further proved to him how wonderful of a person you were.

You ended up extending your stay in Gandharva Ville after that, which he was so far from being opposed to that it was almost laughable.

As he'd expected, you and Collei bonded a great deal during that time, and within just a few weeks, she seemed to be doing a lot better. She went up and tugged on Cyno's cloak one day, catching his attention when he'd been reading a book.

"What is it, Collei?" He asked softly, bending down to the girl's level.

"C-can I stay with Y/n?" She asked, pointing to where you stood in the distance, bandaging up a wounded forest ranger. Cyno's face softened.

"Of course, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you help them out for the day."

"No," Collei shook her head, trying to find the words to explain her feelings, "I want to stay with them all the time." Now the white haired man understood what she was implying, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You mean you want Y/n to adopt you?" He asked, to which she nodded eagerly. He smiled, standing back up and motioning for her to follow him. "I'm sure they'd be happy to take you in. Come on, let's go ask them."

And the rest was history. You, of course, gladly adopted Collei. For a while, you lived in Gandharva Ville with her because it seemed to be the place that made her the happiest. You even fought with your employer to let you commute to work in Sumeru City if it meant you could raise her there, and they eventually gave in.

Those were the years Tighnari remembered being the happiest; when you were nearby and happy yourself.

Somewhere down the line, he ended up becoming Collei's mentor. She had a love for the forest and the people around her, as well as a thirst for knowledge that he was happy to nurture.

As she got older, you started to feel like you might be stifling her, and eventually moved to Sumeru City in an attempt to both make your own life easier and give her the space she needed to continue growing. You constantly wrote to and visited both her and Tighnari though, and were always checking in as well.

..........

It was only when Collei's Eleazar got worse that you finally moved back to Gandharva Ville to support her, and times had been tough ever since.

Tighnari could tell the stress was taking a huge toll on you, even if you tried not to let her see that. Plus, going back and forth to Sumeru City for work every day to do an already taxing job wasn't easy.

As much as he had wanted to confess all his feelings to you the second you moved back to Gandharva Ville, it wasn't the right time. So instead, he'd kept it inside. He didn't want to stress you out any further; he couldn't do that to you. If it meant saving you even just a little bit of worry, he was willing to keep his feelings inside for as long as it might take.

Now, he returned to his hut in Gandharva Ville, glancing over to Collei's to see you exiting with a smile on your face, presumably having just said goodnight to her. As soon as you turned away though, it fell into a frown as you started the walk back to your own hut.

You spotted Tighnari on the way though, smiling again as you waved at him. He waved back, a melancholy feeling taking over him. Finally, he turned to go back into his own hut.

'I wish I could take all your worries away.'

..........

Part 2

Part 3

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin tighnari #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #collei #genshin collei #parent reader #gender neutral #gender neutral insert #genshin reader insert #reader insert #genshin fanfic #oneshot #genshin oneshots

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nyctophiliq · 4 months

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FREE PALESTINE, FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA !

i have refrained from making this post, both for the reason of not wanting to be ridiculed as a "know it all" and because i thought people in this day and age, where we have the internet to do almost the impossible would conclude to themselves that helping is now not an impossible thing.

but here we are.

i feel like a lot of you out there, who might not have a following, or has a big following but doesn’t post has completely ignore the important aspects of the internet that they claim to be using.

i sense that none of you above want to acknowledge that there is a world outside of your tumblr, because why would you? the sole purpose of you coming here was to get away from the real life around you, to have something to ground yourself with instead of having to face the dark, gruesome troubles that you are having but all i see is hiding, not dealing. now that that real life is with you on your dashboard, talking about people dying of bombs, slaughter, hunger, and dehydration is taking away the sense of escape that you came here to seek. and by no means i am defending you, silent creatures, i am dragging you by the collar of your shirt through the mud for your inhumane actions.

it shows how some of you cherish life, wanting it to be as perfect as possible- going to therapists to deal with your trauma, going to the store to not starve, enjoying the police and military of a secure country that has fallen into your hand by the right of your birth. you say you are depressed and not well, voice your concerns about how some people neglect to even think about your mental health because the person dismissing your problems could be only a horrible person in turn.

how does it not hurt to see other people in pain, being hurt on purpose and not thing that “i should maybe do something, i wouldn’t wanna be in the place they are, wouldn’t wanna be going through what they are”. to see you holler about your right to a better life, a good mental health is outragious. you believe in your right to have that why can’t you believe that other people deserve it too?

how can you go a day without talking about, or at least acknowledging in your own words that what you have gone through- all that trauma, that abuse, being cut up, and spit at- can’t be as bad or twice as bad for other people? of course we can talk about our problems, we can say that we are struggling but we have to at least have the decency to say that we are not the only ones.

telling yourself that someone else is in bigger trouble than you won’t help you, ignoring your pain for somebody else’s doesn’t make yours go away but it can make you realize that somehow there has to be a way through it- going to a therapist to work on your issues for example. a lot of you don’t understand that the life you have, the life you love and cherish despite how horrible it might have been before others want to have it too? the relief of being able to say “shit happened, but i got through it”, to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to have a family, friends, siblings, and people around them, to have their own religion, background, city of birth that brings them closer as a community, to have somewhere to belong.

our world has been so easy, we don’t have to go to war to help, we don’t have to spend money to help- we only need our voice, that simple click, and the reblog to let others out there know that this is not okay and that people are fighting for them, to have them hope for another day, to have them endure for a brighter future.

in this day and age we have become so pleasantly blissed by the “bystander affect”, letting everything slip by because “hells, it’s easier to be like this than actually do something”. it shows how many of you are fighting, how many of you accepted defeat, how many of you still have hope.

and i mean all offense.

FREE PALESTINE, FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA !

#🍃 — moss rambles !

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frannyzooey · 14 days

Text

On The Green: 3

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Mature-ish? More space violence, gratuitous descriptions of Ezra’s body 🤡

A/N: thank you to both @the-scandalorian who always sets me in the right direction and gives me the best reassurance and @bageldaddy who, I’m pretty sure, is giving me more of an education than any English teacher I’ve ever had and thank god ❤️

Series Masterlist

—

For the next couple days, it rains.

Sheets of it pour down, a steady drum against the roof, trails of it sliding down the windows. It creates rivers in the rich soil, deep trenches that lead to even deeper puddles, and the world outside looks like a muted blur from your seat inside. A smear of dark green, a blot of rich brown, the watery shape of roots that distort with every drop.

Tucking your knees tighter under your chin, you give your legs a squeeze, hoping to squash the restlessness that thrums through them.

“Anything new out there?”

You sigh, knowing he’s teasing. “No.”

“Fitting, the way you can sit still for so long, Birdie. Perched there in your little nest.”

The only blanket you have pooled at your hip, your headphones on the floor, and your notebook open and face down next to them, you suppose it does look a bit like a nest. You shrug. “Not much else to do.”

Ezra fiddles with a ship part in his hand, his head bent in focus. “Always something to do.”

After days stuck inside, it doesn’t feel like it.

You’ve combed over every inch of the pod, putting it back to rights. Cleaning every surface, organizing every cupboard. The med supplies were pulled out and meticulously sorted, the food stores combined with Ezra’s meager offerings, the dash scrubbed free of every particle of dirt that’s collected on it over the years. Your fingers finding a few rusty drips of blood that were missed, you spent more time than necessary scouring every inch of the pilot’s seat until your fingers ached.

One untouched compartment remained: your father’s private belongings.

“Hand me that wrench, would you?”

Ezra extends his hand, and you crawl over to the open tool kit, rifling through it until you find the one he’s looking for. Handing it to him, you abandon your seat by the window and sit next to him. His fingers are thick and long, marred with the nicks of small scars, his fingernails short and black with permanent dirt—but his handling of the part is graceful, his touch deft when he uses the tool.

“Tell me everything he said again, from the top.”

Resting your cheek on your knee, you recite every detail you can recall, your voice monotone with boredom.

“He didn’t say much. A group of mercs hired him to help with the dig, but I don’t know where he met them. Called “The Queen’s Lair,” it’s supposed to be an untouched dig site that holds more gems than any other on this planet. A deposit the size of this pod. Depending on his source, the whole thing could be real or it could be nothing, but either way, he thought it would make us rich. He said it would be enough to retire on, that this would be our last run.”

Ezra huffs. “If the rumor is true, then he’d be right.” He passes the wrench back, looking at you. “If it’s true.” He waits a beat. “Do you think it is?”

You still had to get used to that – someone asking your opinion about something. You shrug. “It’s possible, right?”

“Sure, it’s possible,” he agrees. “Probable, though?”

You pause to think, and his expression softens into a smile. “A dreamer like myself, I see.”

“I don’t know about that,” you reply. “But as long as we’re stuck here, might as well look, right?”

He nods, thinking for a moment.

“The Queen’s Lair,” he muses, dragging the words out in a slow drawl. He looks up, wiggling his eyebrows, and a small smile pulls at your lips.

Mirroring it, he goes back to work.

It had taken you all of a couple days to tell him about the reason your father came here. Tossing in your lot with Ezra the second you agreed to his deal, the idea of a hidden cache of gems that had the potential to make you both rich was too valuable to keep to yourself. You had the location; he had the digging skills. You had, as minimal as they were, details about who was waiting, and he had the skills to navigate the situation.

You needed each other.

Cautious around him for the first couple of days, you were surprised by his geniality. For someone who appeared so ruthless when you first met him, he was…kinder than you thought he would be with you. You had remained hesitant, convinced that it was a ruse to get you to lower your defenses, but after a while, you came to see that he was just desperate for someone to talk to.

So were you, it seemed, for how easily the words slipped out once you let them.

After a lifetime of being left to wilt alone in empty apartments, or being dragged around the universe only to be ignored until your father needed something from you, it felt good to have someone’s attention. His curiosity about you was endless, his questions never ending, and when you answered, he really listened. Not like he was searching for anything to give him a leg up on you, but rather just openly interested. His face was expressive, his eyes fixed on yours whenever you were talking, and even when you tried to shy away from the direct attention you weren’t used to, he never faltered.

He was patient, a gift you’d never been given from anyone.

Unfortunately, along with that came a blossoming attraction to the man, but you pushed that down. The pod was a tight space with two people, and he was broad. You couldn’t help but notice his presence. Especially at night, when it was just the two of you.

When a blanket of tension seemed to build across the small space between your cots.

When it was just you and him and the darkness; the steady sound of his breathing over the thrum of your restless limbs.

Squashing down the nagging shame that surfaced every time you remembered that he was a stranger and also a murderer, you ignored that logic and leaned into the warmth of his companionship instead.

Besides, even if he was planning on taking advantage, what could you really do about it anyway?

“You mentioned a map?” he says, his brow furrowing in concentration.

You tilt your head towards his cupboard. “I haven’t checked, but it should be in there. I remember him looking at it.”

Knowing you’ve been avoiding that particular cupboard, he nods.

“How many mercs are waiting for him at the dig?”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“What terms did he negotiate?”

“He didn’t say.”

Ezra shakes his head to himself, looking up. “The more you tell me about this old man of yours, the less I’m impressed with how he treated his partner.”

“I was never his partner,” you correct. “Just his daughter.”

He gives you a level glance, and you look away. Fiddling with the leg of your thermals, you change the subject. “Do you think it’s safe to leave the pod unattended?”

“I’m not assured that she’s fit to fly in the state she’s in, but just to be sure, we’ll take this with us wherever we go.”

He holds up the part in his hand with a smirk, and you give it a closer look, huffing a laugh when you recognize it.

The starter.

He stands with a soft grunt, stretching. The muscles in his shoulders shift underneath his threadbare thermals, and you keep your eyes on them when he tucks the part away in his case.

“I’ll need a digging partner out there, if this opportunity is what you say it is,” he says. “I think we should practice some, to get you ready. Is that amenable to you?”

You bite the pillow of your lip. “He never taught me that. How to dig,” you clarify.

“Course he didn’t,” Ezra frowns, his voice sliding low with unamused disappointment. He shakes his head clear of whatever dark thought seems to pass through his mind, his expression softening. “All the more reason.” He bends, peering out the window. “Looks like it’s tapering off. The sooner we get some practice under your belt, the better.”

A swoop of relief flowing through you at the thought of leaving the pod, it mixes with excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Your father never trusted you with the actual digging – you had been brought along to carry things, made to follow for “assistance”, but he never let you touch the blade. You’d once thought it was a father’s way to protect his child from the dangerous job but quickly realized it was born out of impatience.

Unfurling your tight limbs when he holds his hand out to help you off the floor, you grab your suits from the closet. Slipping them on in silence, you click your helmet into place while he secures the connection of your filters, and hunching to get through the door, you follow him outside.

The ground is saturated with water, your boots leaving clear impressions in the soil as he leads you into the forest. He’s broad, even more so with his suit on, but the trees that surround you are still big enough to conceal his entire body, not to mention yours. The canopy of lush growth glistens with droplets, shafts of misty light piercing through it to highlight the floor of moss and growth underneath you. Vines and tree roots spread and crawl underneath your feet, no visible path that you can see.

You follow the beacon of his worn yellow suit, his voice carrying through the comm into your helmet.

“So, Birdie,” his voice sounds deeper through the link, scratchy with static. “If your father never taught you how to dig, what did he teach you?”

You huff under your breath. “A lot of things.”

Missing the low tone of your sarcasm through the radio, he continues in his conversational tone. “Anything useful?”

“I know how to navigate.” You think of using your father’s last coordinates to find him in the seedier part of town. “I’m resourceful.” Rationing your vouchers, making sure they bought you enough food to last. “I’m actually not a bad mechanic.”

“Oh yea?” He turns to look to peek back at you for a moment.

You immediately backtrack when you see a glimmer of hope on his face. “I mean, nothing like we need. I can try to help though, if you show me how. My father used to bring me with him everywhere but always left me behind, so I got pretty good at fixing things around the ship. He always wanted me to do the wiring because my hands were smaller than his. He said my fingers were more precise.”

You remember the rest of it silently: the way his hands trembled and shook between doses.

Ezra hums in acknowledgement. “And yet he never taught you how to dig?”

The moss softens your footsteps, flakes of dust floating through the thick air.

“No,” you reply. “He tried, but…I don’t know. He was too impatient, I think.”

Memories of his harsh words come back: the biting clip of his reprimands, the disappointed yet dismissive tone he always had when it came to you.

Ezra’s voice pulls you back. “Seems like a waste to me. If I had access to those fingers of yours, I would have made use of them.”

Your steps falter as his unearned praise catches you off guard, at his automatic assumption that skills he doesn’t even know if you have were wasted. Warmth unfurls in your chest, the edge of your mouth unconsciously lifting. Feeling slightly foolish and young at your reaction, you look down at your feet.

You’re still thinking about it when he pushes through dense bush, halting you with his arm.

Peering over his shoulder, you see a dark, gaping pit of disturbed earth obstructing your path. He creeps closer, toeing around the edge of it, and you follow, taking in the size and depth. Shallow but with steep sides, roots bulge out from below the soil, extending into the sky with gnarled fingers. Looking closer, you note pockets of earth gaping open just underneath each one. The whole site is eerie, appearing abandoned – though Ezra seems to know what he’s looking for.

Standing on the edge of the pit with a narrowed gaze, he crouches, studying the crater.

You watch with curiosity as he eases down the slope, into the dig site. Sitting on your butt, you carefully slide down the embankment to join him.

You’re not experienced enough to know for sure, but everything about this looks barren to you.

“Is there anything left in here?”

He flashes a smile your way. “If you know where to look.”

He paces the length of the pit, studying it. “Many sites were depleted during the Rush, but carelessness left some treasures behind.”

He squats next to a thick, gnarled root, his helmet tilting in study.

“Come here, Birdie.” His voice slipping into something softer and quieter, he motions you closer. “Here. You see it?”

His gloved fingers splay over the earth, dusting along tiny pin-prick holes that pierce the rich dirt, and he brushes away the crumbling top layer to reveal a deeper set. As if whatever is buried underneath needs access to the toxic air.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he coos.

Blinking, it takes you a second to understand he’s talking to the hole he’s gently unearthing. He hums to himself, one of satisfaction when the earth tumbles away and an involuntary shiver of pleasure at the sound surprises you by rolling down your spine. Shifting your crouch, you push it down.

“Hand me my kit?”

You reach for it, watching as he preps his tools.

“I’ll go first, and then teach you how to do it. Watch my fingers.”

Bracing his hand on the side of the site, he uses the strength in his other one to scoop into the pocket of soil until it completely opens. His arm disappears as he reaches into the dark pit, and trepidation spreads through you. He searches for something, his eyes lighting up when he finds it.

"I knew somebody oughta give her a go,” he says with a smile.

His hand wrapped around the root like a rope, he tugs with a soft grunt of exertion, and a thick, milky white root pearl spills from the hole. He keeps pulling, coaxing everything out and a bulbous pod covered in mucus emerges, sliding out onto the ground by his feet. Shifting onto his knees, he picks up his knife.

“You want to be careful when you cut,” he starts to explain, motioning you to scoot closer. “Easy does it, with delicate things like these. One wrong move and the whole thing will go to shit.”

You hold your breath as he makes a careful incision, his knife slowly drawing across the top of the pod. Your eyes widen in half revulsion and half curiosity as it splits open, strands of thick mucus connecting each side.

“I saw my dad do it once,” you say lowly, mesmerized by his deft movements. “Mess it up.”

The dark crown of his shorn curls shakes under the dome of his visor. “It’s a shame to waste it. All the effort it takes to get her to give it up, only to be ruined with a misplaced touch.”

A hissing sound slips through the thick air, and his fingers form a vee to hold the slick seam open.

“That's the price for a dry breach,” he explains. “My chem will calm the brine.”

You have the bottle of pre-mixed chemicals ready in your hand, and he gives you a nod in thanks, taking it from you. Pouring it slowly into the crack, the pod disintegrates into a steamy cloud, a slimy puddle forming underneath. A core remains, and setting the bottle down, he holds up the unpolished gem.

“Small, but still worth it.”

“You made that look so easy.” Clear experience in every movement he made, you’re still looking at the gem when he speaks.

“Your turn.”

You look up at the words, unsure, and his gaze is steady and encouraging. “I’ll be right here. If you slip, it’s just a trial run.”

You frown in hesitation, and he chuckles. “Don’t look so serious, Birdie. The stakes are about as low as they can get. Come on.”

He jerks his chin towards something behind you, and crawling over to it, you follow.

“Just there,” he says. “You can see her. Look.”

You follow his finger, and reaching your glove out, start to brush the crumbling soil away from the side of the pit. He guides you through every step with a patience you’ve not encountered before, every instruction murmured in a cadence so soothing that would be distracting if not for the intensity of your concentration on the task.

Watch it, girl. Straight finger.

You got it?

Hold it nice and tight.

Oh. That’s perfect.

The sense of accomplishment you feel when you hold up the gem is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. All of your other skills discovered through the lens of isolation, forged by way of necessity without the luxury of help, this one feels different. A safety net beneath you every step of the way, you know if you were to mess up, he would have saved you – but you didn’t.

The faith he placed in you when he handed you the knife suddenly feels so much more earned, and you beam up at him with pride.

“Not nearly as daunting as you thought now, was it?” He smiles back at you, holding his hand out for the gem. “Your father was right, by the way. Your fingers are nimble. The most precise and steady I’ve ever seen.”

You know he must be humoring you but the flush of validation flourishes in your chest as he tucks the stone carefully into the soft foam padding of his case.

“I would have us stay out longer, but we didn’t charge the filters as much as we should have. Let’s head back and admire our loot in a more hospitable environment.”

Clicking it shut, he climbs the slope of the pit before turning to help you out.

“Your first gem,” he muses, leading you back into the forest. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” you breathe, a small smile still on your face and you follow him, his constant stream of words fading into the background.

Entirely dependent on the whims of your father, you’d been existing inside of an isolated bubble until now. You hadn’t been lying when you told Ezra you had no idea what you wanted to do, because the freedom to choose your own path was something that had never occurred to you. You’d been self-reliant, but always within the shadow of a burden. Your dad forced you into a caretaker role, and for the first time in years, as Ezra’s voice flows into your helmet from his, you feel the possibility of something else breaking through the fog.

A glimmering edge of potential, the hue of an amber colored gem.

The shift inside you sparks to life, a realization dawning on you: a life you never thought possible. For the first time since you landed on this planet, you see opportunity stretching out in front of you instead of a dead end. Pride kindles in your chest as you walk back to the pod, and you think about sharing it with Ezra, but stating your excitement over something as routine for the competent man in front of you seems foolish. Like something you should keep to yourself, in order to protect it against the power you know other’s words hold.

You make it to the edge of the clearing before it spills forth from your lips.

“I can’t wait –” you start, your words interrupted by Ezra’s arm whipping out for the second time that day to stop you in your tracks.

“Hello, stranger.”

Your head snaps up, both at the greeting itself and the tone his voice has slipped into: something colder than the easy geniality he’s been using with you all morning, an edge to it that you can sense without seeing his face.

“Can I help you?” Ezra’s hand rests on the thrower attached to his hip, and from your place behind him, you slowly reach for your own weapon strapped across your back. Peering over Ezra’s shoulder, you spot the edge of a man.

Sneering through the visor of his dirty helmet, he looks starved, almost feral underneath the dome, his eyes dead with hunger. Dangerous is the first word that comes to mind, and when the man’s gaze settles on you, you shrink back behind Ezra.

“Pretty ship,” his voice crackles through the comm link. “Pretty girl.”

Your stomach bottoms out, but Ezra remains still.

“Both of whom belong to me,” he replies, steady and sure.

Your fingers bury themselves into Ezra’s suit at his side, and you feel him straighten, standing taller in front of you.

“Seems like a lot for one man.” The man’s chin tilts up in a challenge, stepping closer. “Maybe I can take one of em’ off your hands.”

“As generous as that offer is, I will have to decline.” You can hear the casual smile on Ezra’s face, meant to disarm. “I’m partial to both, you see. I wouldn’t be able to choose.”

The stranger takes a step closer, testing. When Ezra doesn’t move, he takes another.

“Actually,” the stranger confesses, “I’ve got a ship. It could use some parts, and I intended to take them from you…but I’d be willing to walk away.” He pauses a beat, tilting his head to look directly at you. “For her.”

He smiles, and the sight of his rotted teeth causes bile to rise in your throat.

“That is a bold offer,” Ezra drawls. “Unfortunately,” his voice dropping into a firmer tone, “She stays with me.”

The man’s greasy smile disappears, replaced with a menacing frown.

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he growls.

Ezra stands firm, shifting to cover you with the whole of his body and a tight tension fills the air, crackling amongst the slow floating dust.

“Then I guess I’ll have to take her by force,” the man says, taking another step forward.

Without any warning, Ezra whips the pistol from the holster attached to his hip and fires. You shrink at the first shot, scrambling to hide by the pod at the sound of a second one, and by the third, your ass hits the ground with a thud. A cold sweat soaks through your thermals, your pulse pounding as you watch Ezra saunter closer to the dead man with a relaxed gait and aiming his gun right between the man’s vacant eyes, you flinch when he pulls the trigger again.

A crash echoes through the field, followed by silence.

–

“It’s really a thing of beauty, isn’t it?”

Still reeling from the confrontation outside, you blink numbly at the refresher.

“Um,” you swallow, taking a seat. “Sure.”

He seems so unbothered it’s disorienting, and you tug your boot off, placing it on the floor next to the other one. Needing him to go somewhere else so you can process what just happened alone, you attempt casualness. “You just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna shower?”

“You just gonna watch me, or are you gonna turn around?” he mimics.

You pause, and he grins.

“Either way suits me just fine, little bird. Just fine.”

He crouches to dig through a bin of his belongings, and you turn your back to him, your body slipping into the rote memory as you take off your suit. The difference between who he’s been the last several days with you versus who he just turned into is jarring, a slap in the face, a stark reminder of what he’s capable of.

“You want to bathe first, or do you mind if I have the honor?” he asks from behind you.

“Go for it,” you reply.

You hear him pause behind you and turn to face him. A frown pulls between his dark brows as he studies you. “Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting for you to get your own relief. In fact, I’d prefer it.”

You shake your head, just wanting him to give you space. “I’m good. I’ll wait.”

He nods and before you can turn back around, reaches over his head to strip his shirt off with a tug. Marks of rough won survival litter the skin of his back. A gouge here, the thin stripe of a scar there; some cleanly healed, some not. He leans forward into the fresher, turning the water on to let it run for a moment and you eye the dark curls that edge the nape of his neck. The wings of muscle that make up his broad shoulders seem so much wider with his suit off, so much wider against the small opening he stands in front of, and your eyes follow the strong plane of his back down all the way down to the dimples on either side of his spine, just above the waistband of the pants he’s already working open –

Turning, his face registers surprise when he sees you’re still looking – yet he makes no effort to cover himself. Instead, he stands taller, confident in his bareness. His chest is covered in the same marks as his back, visible strength held in his arms, and dark hair collects in a swirl around his belly button and leads down, his hand obstructing where his pants hang open.

“I’m – sorry,” you hastily apologize, heat rushing to your face. Averting your eyes, you get a glimpse of his amused smile before you turn your back on him again.

You expect him to tease you, but he doesn’t. Instead, the door to the fresher clicks shut and you let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

Finally alone, you close your eyes.

He killed…again. Right in front of you, shamelessly, so confident in his own skills that you never sensed even a fraction of fear. Going back to the moment you both saw the man, you focus on the memory of his calmness, on the image of confidence he presented delivering that final shot. Almost lazy with it, like he was so desensitized by killing it didn’t even register with him.

Searching deeper, where you should find fear, you find reassurance instead.

He’s the one that took out the initial threat of his original partner, he’s the one who buried your father like it was nothing, he’s the one who has taught you about this place. Treating you like an equal except for when he needs to take out a threat, the way he slides into territorial protection should make you worry…but instead, it makes you feel safe.

You don’t belong to him, but you don’t find yourself rebelling against the idea as much as you probably should. The stranger meant to take you, and when Ezra told that man you belonged to him, you should have shrunk away, probably should have mentally protested. Instead, you silently clutched him tighter.

You hear him behind the door, water splashing against the tiles as he moves around and that swirl of hair above his waistband flashes behind your eyelids, along with an image of his thick fingers. The width of his chest, the rounds of his shoulders. The muscles along his ribs.

You jam the heels of your hands into your eyes, willing it to stop.

He’s a murderer. He’s a thief. He’s a dangerous man who has taken advantage of a situation in order to save himself.

And yet, you breathe out, listening to the shower – he’s saved you every time too.

–

You stay quiet the rest of the night, sitting with your thoughts.

He notices, those dark eyes resting on you every now and then over the map. He’d waited until you were in the shower to go through your father’s belongings, a courtesy you silently thanked him for.

Picking at your dinner, you finally ask him one of the questions weighing on your mind. “Am I really that much of a commodity around here?” you ask. “Is a girl that…rare?”

He stops eating, his expression turning solemn. He holds your gaze for a moment, answering honestly. “You have no idea, Birdie.”

There is a weight to the answer that gives you pause, and a clear implication that confirms the worry that you’re really not safe here – not just for the reasons you thought.

You go back to eating – or rather, picking at your food – and you feel him watching you.

“It is not my intention to scare you,” he starts, “but it is important that you stay close to me. If anyone asks, you’re mine. You understand?”

You nod, the words sparking to life an empty ache inside you, and you swallow hard.

“Not because I own you,” he continues, “but because they need to think I do.”

“Wouldn’t being your partner be enough?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I wish it was, but they…” He pauses, being careful with his words. “It’s been a long time since these men have seen a girl. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one. Your father was foolish to bring you here.” His hand splays on his chest, his thumb catching the worn collar of his thermal. “I would never hurt you, Birdie. But them? They’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You go quiet again, and he puts his fork down, leaning in.

“Again – I don’t say this to scare you, but –”

“That man today,” you interrupt. “How can you kill like that?”

He misunderstands your question, his body language shifting into defensiveness.

“It was all in the name of self-preservation, Birdie. It was nothing personal. Out here –”

“Can you teach me how?”

Your question takes him aback, his eyebrows popping up with surprise.

You let the question hang in the air between you, fully expecting him to say no. He shouldn’t help you learn to protect yourself, you know it would be in his best interest not to. Despite that, you hold eye contact with him, pleading inwardly for him to say yes.

You know he’d protect you, but you want more freedom than that. You want more, just like he taught you earlier.

Taking in your measure for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifts just a fraction, his dark eyes glinting with warmth – and pride.

“Of course.”

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader

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luveline · 6 months

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hi jade! this is kind of a random request but I was wondering if for ur zombie!au you would write where something happens that reminds reader of the guy that kidnapped her at the college a while after it happened and she’s upset she’s still thinking ab him but Steve comforts her and it’s all fluffy sorry if this is too specific love u!

zombie au —steve comforts you through the panic of a bad memory. fem, 1.3k

The tent is quiet. You've taken the blankets out while the sun is high, having washed them and needing her help to get them dry again, and your collective belongings make a meagre pile in one corner. If you wanted, you could lay down flat.

Might as well, you decide. The ground is far from unfamiliar, no rock nor pebble capable of disturbing you.

Your back aches, your neck worse, and an hour or two of sleep would do you good no matter how unforgiving the floor is, but it isn't your comfort that's the problem. You hear a skittering sound and throw your gaze to one corner of the tent. A footstep, and your attention is drawn to the other.

It's hard to relax without a lap to hide your face in, or a rough, familiar hand in the curve of your neck.

You're not sure where Steve is today. It's like that here, sometimes. You'll be told to do one thing and sent to do another, and while you'd been sent home ages ago, he's still out, and so is Robin.

You miss her a lot lately. She's not around much. To think you hadn't trusted her when you first met… it's all silly looking back. You couldn't believe she wanted to be your friend until after she'd—

Connor.

You bite your cheek and try not to think about it. You'd found it hard to trust Robin until she, with Steve (and few others) came to find you. When Connor stole you. Paralysed with fear, you'd walked miles in the cold, his pistol a threat tucked into his jeans.

The memories surface one at a time like barbs emerging from a slow sand. How stupid you were. How scared. And Connor ‘The Creep’, how cruel he'd been, the crush of his hand on your face and the way he'd thrown your head back into a wall. The disorientation, the ache of your wrists, the claustrophobia. All of it.

You raise your hand to your face and feel for the scars. They're miniscule now, practically invisible. They would've faded completely if they hadn't gotten infected. Your index nail catches on the worst one near your mouth and feels back and forth the length of it with a morbid sense of otherness.

It hadn't taken much for him to do whatever it was he wanted to do. If Steve hadn't cared enough to look for you, Connor would've done much worse. You'd been completely and totally helpless, and that feeling isn't one the heart likes to remember. Your pulse climbs, climbs, races, a sudden pressure in your throat like you might gag. You hurry into a sitting position with a hand on your heart, the other screwed into the floor of the tent, and struggle to draw breath. Each inhale feels like you've pulled it through a narrow straw.

He must hear it from outside of the tent. “Y/N?” Steve asks worriedly, his voice before his face, though his face swiftly follows as he brushes aside the tents opening to find you. “What's wrong?”

You wave a hand at him weakly.

He climbs in, the clay of the river mud thick on his shoes and hard not to think of as he kneels at your side. “Hey,” he says, his hand on your wrist, eyebrows tugged down into a deep furrow. “Why are you panicking? You're okay.”

“I'm fine.”

“Yeah, you are.” He smiles, barely, giving your hand a weak squeeze. “You're fine. So let's breathe.”

Steve takes big, deep breaths for you to follow. You fail to copy him, but it doesn't matter. His being here is enough to feel safe again, to be here, and not a hundred miles northward, huddled and crying in an abandoned cabin thinking you'd never get to go home.

“Ah,” you say, unintelligible sputter, chest aching like a wound, “sorry, sorry,” —you duck your head— “sorry.”

“Would you–”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop it.” He ducks his head low to find you, hand searching for your other, bringing both to hold atop your knees. “What's the matter, huh? Why are you freaking out?”

He speaks gently, but betrays his own panic with a bad habit, the slightest quirk of his mouth.

“It won't make sense.”

“Says who?”

“It was a long time ago.”

Steve's lips part.

“It–” Your eyes ache, your throat too. “It's– It doesn't make any sense, I shouldn't be–” You shake your head.

Steve lets go of your wrists. “Honey, it doesn't matter when it happened,” he says, measured, as though painting each word between you one by one.

“I was just laying down and I was thinking about Connor. Why am I still thinking about him?” You stare hard at the spot between his eyes. “It's been so long since… My hands…”

Steve's eyelashes flare with surprise, but he hides it quickly, a more solid expression of unhappiness taking place. “Aw, babe,” he says under his breath. He brings his fingers to your cheek and wipes up and down reassuringly. “I don't think you get to choose. We don't pick what stays around, right?”

“I don't want to think about it at all.” You inhale too quick and Steve cups your cheek.

“Relax,” he says, still so quiet. “Who cares why you're thinking about it? You're not doing anything wrong. You didn't do anything wrong.” He looks at you imploringly. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do. He wasn't well–”

“No, he wasn't. And he hurt you, and if you think about it, that's okay. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you–?”

His smile softens. He wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you to go over his shoulders as he leans back to drag you in. You let the entirety of your weight sink into his grasp, sighing as he sighs, and breathing in again with his breath. His hair smells like the river, and his shirt is damp under your hands. He's cold, likely tired from a long day, but he doesn't give any indication to you that this is too much to have to deal with. If anything, you'd think he's quite enjoying himself, his sigh long and relieved.

“Please don't panic about him,” he says into your collar. “Don't be scared. Nobody's ever getting near you like that again, I swear.”

“I'm not scared.” Even if someone does get close, Steve's always gonna be right behind you. You know he'll fight to get you back.

“Don't worry,” he says, pushing his face into your neck. “Sweetheart, please don't worry.”

Sweetheart. You close your eyes and slouch into him like all the strength has left you. It's nice to just lean on him, and know he doesn't mind the weight. Despite everything, Steve loves you.

“Sorry,” you say. For crying, and for having failed in the first place.

He pushes you backward gently to take your face into two hands.

“You get the wrong things wrong,” he says, smiling ruefully. “You know? You care about all the wrong things, and that's not– I'm not– I don't care. I don't care that you're upset about this, you don't have to be sorry for it, I just care that you're crying. We've talked about this before, haven't we? I'm sorry I haven't made it clear, but I'll keep trying, okay? And you need to keep telling me how you're feeling without thinking it's something to be sorry for.”

You pout a little to stop from crying, tears anew in your waterline. To be loved by him is enough to put the past back in the past for now. “Do you ever stop talking?” you ask.

“Nope,” he says, beaming at you as he wipes your cheek, “never. Not when I'm with you.”

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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hyuckilstan · 1 year

Text

Make it up to you -P.Sh

Pairing!— Seonghwa x afab!reader

Genre!— Angst, smut, fluff if you squint?

warnings!— cunnilingus, protected sex, a whole lot of apologizing and petnames, make-up sex but its soft, possessiveness more like over protectiveness, kinda toxic ngl.

Summary!— Your boyfriend wants to make sure you know how sorry he feels, and how could you reject him when he was being so genuine.

Wc!— 2.1+k words

a/n!— oka I’m back lol and I thought why not make my comeback with a hwa fic (also there might be some typos idk 💀)

☽·Masterlist·☾

Right now, You’re fucking done with everything.

You’re done with Seonghwa, your boyfriend, you’re done with yourself, heck you feel like you’re done with the relationship.

“I can fucking take care of myself Hwa!” you shout back, feeling frustrated, you know Seonghwa loves you, so much so that he loves to pamper you, sometimes too much that it feels like he thinks of you as a mere child he wants to protect.

Just like tonight, you had peacefully told him that you would be fine if he left you alone at the bar while he goes to chat with his friends, since they were celebrating Hongjoong’s big day as a producer after all, although you’re pretty sure you've ruined the night for him.

Seonghwa just couldn’t resist when he saw some guy hitting on you and even swung his fist at him, resulting in you both standing outside after getting kicked out, arguing.

When you told him once again that he shouldn't have been so protective he blurted out something along the lines that you said that cause you do love the attention, or something like that.

You don’t really remember.

You don’t want to remember.

“We’ve been over this Y/N, I do this because I care for you,” he still refused to admit that what he had said and done were wrong, maybe you were dramatic about him being protective, but what he had said after hurt you more than you wish it did.

“Am I like a goddamn child to you?! I am an independent person Hwa, I can make my own choices and protect myself too, I don’t need to be dependent on someone to do that for me!” You think you’re screaming, you’re not sure, your ears are still ringing because of the loud music, and you feel like your senses are numb and your tears won't stop falling.

Seonghwa hates seeing you like this, more so that he is making you feel like this, but he just wants you to understand that he does it all because he loves you, without a second thought, he says some words he immediately regrets.

“So you call allowing that fucking man to throw himself at you independent? Maybe you are a fucking child Y/N.”

You think you can hear your heart shatter into a million pieces, you don’t respond, mainly cause you are physically unable to, you just want to scream and cry, and you do.

“Stop. I- I’m heading home, and don’t you dare follow me,” you sob and Seonghwa stands stunned when he realizes what he has said and done.

You can hear him calling your name but you choose not to, still sobbing and tears flowing like a river, you open the door to Wooyoung’s car, who had told you before you and Seonghwa left that he could drive you home, almost as if he knew that you would want some distance from your boyfriend.

Wooyoung doesn’t question you, instead he drives to your home, he does tell you that it will be okay every now and then. You wonder if your relationship with Seonghwa is in a critical position, you wonder if you would ever make up.

You do know the amswer to whose questions when you do reach your home and Wooyoung gives you a tight hug, “Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll work things out, Seonghwa loves you nd you love him, arguments happen once in a while, I just know that you guys are made for each other,” he says and you nod, wiping your tears, bidding him goodbye as well as thanking him.

Once you enter your home, you feel like the place is colder, is it because of the feeling of dread you have for when Seonghwa will return home or just because of the weather? Either way, you decide to wash up and immediately head to bed.

--------------༊·˚

Its currently a little past 1 in the morning and it seems like you have cried yourself to sleep, but your ringtone wakes you up, you decide to bot pick up seeing that it was Hwa, but when he keeps on calling you finally pick up.

You don’t say anything, but you can clearly hear Seonghwa sniffing on the other side of the phone, “Y/N... Please, let me in, I’m so sorry, please, ” his pleads are pathetic and Seonghwa knows it.

You hang up without saying a word but you do get up to open the door, after mentally preparing yourself to face him of course

When you open the door, you see Seonghwa, possibly in the most hopeful yet miserable state you’ve seen. He looks stoked to see you, he starts crying, and you are about to start crying too.

He lets himself in, locking the door behind him, “Hwa-” before you can say more, Seonghwa’s soft lips are pressed against yours harshly, you both need this.

He effortlessly hoists you up so that your legs are wrapped around his hips, he doesn’t stop kissing you, instead he makes the kiss deeper, more intimate but you don’t complain.

He somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom and he gently lays you down on the bed, he pulls himself away and you almost whimper, “I’m sorry baby, are you okay with this?” he asks, his voice is full of hurt and regret, you can feel it, because that is also the same case for you when you speak out.

You cannot exaggerate how good he looks right now, his soft skin illuminated by the moonlight and his eyes that are glistening as they look up at yours.

“Hwa don’t stop, please,” you plead and he nods diving back in the kiss, his hands are all over your body now, your body is burning up, he feels so fucking good against you.

His lips leave yours but they start trailing down your neck, sucking and nibbling it, “Is this okay?” he asks for your assurance when his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your shorts, you nod, tugging at the hem of his shirt, Seonghwa nods as well, taking off his shirt in one swift movement and now you’re staring at him, observing his every next movements.

He slowly pulls your shorts down along with your underwear, your breath hitches when you feel his hot breath against your now wet core, “You don’t have to...” you say quietly but Seonghwa shakes his head in disagreement

“No baby, let me make it up to you, please?” he asks innocently, and who were you to say no to him, when you give him the green light he wastes no time in taking you in his mouth

He wets your already wet folds and starts flicking his tongue at your clit, “Fuck!” you groan, Seonghwa was always skilled with his tongue and that makes you feel intoxicated, he always looks so pretty between your legs.

Your fingers rake his hair, tugging his hair slightly to pull him closer, Seonghwa doesn’t complain, rather he loves it when yiu chase for your pleasure.

Your moans bounce off the walls of the bedroom as your boyfriend alternates between giving kitten licks to your cunt and flicking your clit with his tongue, Seonghwa softly moans when you tug his hair harsher, he was growing rock hard at this point.

He sucks at your clit making you gasp, “I’m so sorry baby, I love you I love you I love you,” he says between his sucks and licks, he continues repeating the words “I love you” and “I’m sorry” every now and then, and before you know it, tears are staring to fall again, this time not only because of hurt, but also because of pleasure.

He fucks his tongue into your wet hole while his nose brushes against your clit and Seonghwa feels contented when he hears your moans getting louder, but he wants to hear more from you.

So he wets his fingers in his mouth, fucking two digits into you, you moan out loudly when he starts curling them, the pleasure was starting to get really intense.

“That’s it baby, take it all for me, just want you to feel good,” he says and resumes on fucking you with his fingers and sucking your clit, “Hwa, I think- I’m going to cum soon-” you inform him and he hums, fucking his fingers into you even faster.

Curses leave your mouth as you buck your hips while the pleasure Seonghwa was delivering to you remained constant; you feel your climax arriving dangerously close and before you could warn him, you had came all over your boyfriend’s face.

You gasp at the sight of seonghwa’s face smeared with arousal, feeling more aroused when he licks it all up, “Fuck baby that was so hot,” he chuckles, he gets up to take off his clothes that were still on and crawling back up to the bed, staring right at you.

He gently cups your face, it feels nice and warm, “I feel so fucking stupid baby, will you forgive me?” he asks and you stare at him for a little longer before you hum, he’s still hesitant so you decide to speak up, “Hwa, I just want you to fuck the pain away,” you tell him and it causes his cock to twitch.

“Shit baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls and Seonghwa, being the best boyfriend he (almost) always is obliges, he quickly grabs a condom from your nightstand and rolling it down along his erect length, he then aligns his dick to your hole after wetting it with your arousal.

He easily slides himself in, and you both moan in unison, you frantically reach out your arms to pull him closer, noticing this, Seonghwa starts kissing you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

He starts to slowly rock his hips towards yours, fucking in and out of you deliciously, “Yes, right there Hwa,” you moan when his length hits just the right spot, Seonghwa hums and continuously abuses that spot.

He swallows your moans as your tongues danced together, his hands are back to cupping your face and right now, you feel so loved, Seonghwa was making love to you.

“You feel so tight,” he groans, fucking even deeper into you, his lips are now against your neck again, this time peppering it softly, while you moan out without a single care, all your frustration leaving as pleasure arrives.

Your second climax is arriving and you need more, “Hwa, please- harder,” you ask, Seonghwa responds obediently to your request, he was now slamming his length into you at a fast pace, to which he loudly curses.

You reach your hands down to your clit, gently rubbing then, Seonghwa smirks amused, “That’s it baby, rub that clit while I fuck you so good,” he pants and you nod frantically.

When Seonghwa notices that your moans are getting more choked and louder he speaks up again, “You’re gonna cum for me again my love?” You nod and his groans follows your response, “Me too love- fuck- let’s cum together.”

You cannot form words, or at least coherent ones, you just take the pleasure you’re receiving, you can also tell that Seonghwa is close to the edge when you feel him twitch inside of you.

He places his hands at your hips tightly and pulls your hips and fucking into you, your choked out moans, the sound of skin on skin and his pants are the only thing you can now hear.

“Shit I’m cumming” he says and you do too as he continues to fuck into you while he empties his load in the rubber, once you both reach your climax, he rests his forehead against yours, you’re both breathing heavily at this point.

He lays himself next to you, softly kissing you, he brushes a portion of your hair behind your ear and sighs, “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I promise to never do or say those things again,” he apologizes again for you don’t even remember how many times but could feel how genuine Seonghwa was being.

You smile softly at him, which further reassured him that you have indeed forgiven him, “It’s okay Hwa,” you snuggle onto him, “Arguments can break out often, we can only do so much as grow from them,” you tell him.

Seonghwa cannot describe how happy he feels as well as how proud, he does realize now that you are a grown up who is capable of handling themselves and that he had been pampering and babying you too much.

“I love you so much,” he says pulling you in tighter against his chest, “I love you too,” you reply with a faint smile.

Wooyoung was right, you would’ve come up with a solution one way or the other, as weird as this may be, you managed to work things out.

You were made for each other.

Taglist!— @yeo-hehet, @hwanchaesong, @enivivs, @alphadisaster, @zen626, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @amangooo, @riboism (feel free to inform me if I had forgotten to add you or you wanted to be added in the taglist!)

#ateez smut #ateez angst #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa smut #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines

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redheadspark · 3 months

Text

Worth Fighting For

Summary - You seek out Druig after the near Emergence

A/N - I had a request for this for the Spring Pormpt Session, but I lost the request, either I deleted it or it got deleted on its own. I am SO SORRY that I lost it, but I remember it's for Druig and number 6 (Pulling their partner in their lap) So I wrote it and I hope that helps!

You never knew the open fields of South Dakota to be so quiet, so calm. You weren’t used to this.

The calm you were used to was filled with jungle sounds and animals constantly bellowing in the air, not to mention the running waters of the river and the soft rustling of the green foliage leaves. But now all you see was land, flat and as fast as you could see amongst rolling hills and chilly air as you stood outside the farmhouse.

Ajak’s farmhouse. You missed her.

The last time you saw her was back when you and Druig left the family, all 500 years ago. You were sad to leave her, but you also understood where Druig was coming from when it came to standing to the side and letting the humans harm one another. You always were the mutual factor between Druig and Ajak, loving both of them with all your heart and never wishing for the other to feel blindsided. But Druig was your husband, your better half, and you had to follow him and not lose him in your life. You knew deep down that Ajak was glad you left with him, she always praised your relationship and how you two complimented each other so well.

But still, you missed her terribly, and you hated Ikaris for taking her away.

Shivering a bit in your jacket, you could hear the chatter inside of the house and you turned to look at the worn-down farmhouse that had Ajax’s touches here and there. You could see she used the home for all its worth, and you had to wonder if she ever dreamt of the family being there again. It was nice that you were, but not under the right circumstances. So you walked back over to the front door, opening it to let yourself in.

Phastos and Ben were chatting with Thena, and their son Ben was watching the news that was playing the clip of a marble Tiamat poking out of the ocean, which left Makkari sitting on the bottom step of the stairs. You looked eyes at her, seeing her give you a small smile and gesture up the stairs to the second floor.

He’s taking a shower, but I think he needs you. She explained with her fingers, her soft smile showing it was true. Druig went through a lot on that beach, taking on a nasty wound from Ikaris thanks to a blast to the chest. You saw he was hurting when you two reunited on that beach amongst the waves, but things had to be done. There was no time to rest and recharge, not until now.

Thank you, ‘Kari. You signed to her, squeezing her shoulder gently as you walked past her up the stairs. Every creak under your boots was heard from each step while you were now on the second floor, the small hallway that led to two bedrooms and one bathroom. One of the bedrooms was slightly open, and you noticed the light that was shining through and had a small sense that your husband was there. Carefully and with barely any noise in your step, you poked your head in.

Druig was perched on the edge of the bed, freshly showered, and was wearing a thing shirt along with what seemed to be sweats. His leather jacket was on the back of a chair that was to the side, his wet hair plastered to his face as he was looking out the window and sitting a bit too stiff for your liking. You tiptoed your way in, closing the door gently behind you so you wouldn’t spook him or snap him out of his trance.

“How was your shower?” You asked, walking over to stand in front of him. But his eyes were still on the view through the window, making you feel a bit worried as you then noticed his hands. They were curled up a bit tight, almost in a fist at his sides while the thin shirt he was wearing was not hiding the massive bruise and wound that was on his chest.

It made you beyond sad and angry that Druig would go through something like this, the Eternal who was the Pacifist and wished for humans to simply be kind to one another. He wished to help them, to guide them into being together in peace. Druig simply loved them, and yet he was almost killed by someone who was blinded to the truth.

“Druig,” You said his name in a hum, not wishing to sound mad yourself at the pain he was going through, but it was still heard in your voice. Druig’s eyes were still in the view, yet his hands were uncurled from being fists. One of them opened up to you, almost like a flower that was ready to bloom. There was nothing that would hold you back from taking his hand.

You laced your fingers with his, feeling how cool his skin was against your palm. You were going to say something else, maybe ask him how he was feeling, but he gently tugged you towards him. Before you knew it, you were in his lap and his arms were around you to keep you close.

At first, you were shocked. But you felt it in the way he held you and tucked his head into your neck, you knew he didn’t want to talk about it. He would hold you like this in the past when he needed comfort or to simply unwind, when talking wasn’t going to help but simply having someone be right there for him. He never spoke about it or mentioned it, you figured that out on your own from being with him for so long.

This was one of those moments.

You rubbed the back of his head with your fingers, feeling his soft hair along the pads of your fingers as he was berthing you in and still not saying a word. He had days that were filled with grief or chaos, and days that were stressed or frustrating. He love holding you, whether it was when you two were entangled in bed together or simply falling asleep in each other’s arms, there was something about him being able to hold you that brought him back to a safe space.

He needed it after all he went through on that beach.

“I love you,” You said against his head as he was still holding you possessively, you feeling him hum as a sign that he was hearing you, “I love you with everything in me, okay? I’m thankful you’re here and you didn’t leave me, Druig,”

He squeezed you a bit tighter as you kissed his forehead, the pair of you simply listening to the rolling winds outside the farmhouse and letting each other heal from all that happened. You would hold him for every minute if you had to, as long as he was wishing for you to hold him and to bring him back to his old self you would.

His heart was worth fighting for.

The End

Spring Prompt Session

#druig x reader #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #eternals #marvel #druig imagine #druig x female reader #the eternals #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu #mcu phase 4 #druig x oc #druig x y/n

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loneliestluvr · 1 month

Text

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

Word Count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris’s arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

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shadowsingerofnight · 1 month

Text

So um, to be honest I don’t know what this is. It was on a whim, written in one go so don’t take it too seriously lol

It was inspired by this post right here, by @dawntoducks

Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the door slamming shut brought Elain back to reality.

Standing in the middle of the sitting-room, she glanced to the window, to the city beyond. Velaris was in full bloom, children running and laughing just outside. She could even spot some kites flying this and that way, guided by tiny, giggling kids.

She had always thought kites to belong in fairytales, somehow never considered actually playing with one. She marvelled at them.

She kept watching- stalling, as one little girl accidentally bumped into the big magnolia tree outside the gate and let go of the slim thread she was holding. A cry sounded, the girl immediately getting up and jumping towards the sky. Desperately trying to reach high, high, higher- like the hurt didn’t matter, like she just wanted to get back what she had lost. But it was too late.

Elain blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart began racing, the rhythm akin a horse’s gallop. Frantic, but with purpose.

It was always like that, her soul recognising a song she sometimes could faintly hear herself. A poem that had existed within her since the dawn of time, somehow.

“Are you okay?”

Somewhere among the blooming trees…

Elain had never heard a voice like that. Not when she was human, not after. Non since she had heard his for the first time. A voice so stark and yet warm. So deep and yet melodious.

She could feel it, tingling on her skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, still not looking at him.

Outside, on a magic wind, the girl’s kite flew right back in her arms. Elain smiled faintly.

“I… felt something,” he replied. “Like you were calling for me.”

She was? Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. Elain still didn’t quite understand how this whole thing worked. But could he actually feel when she was thinking about him?

It was quite a lot.

“That’s why I thought you were in danger.” He went on, “I assumed it was the only way you could call for help.” His tone was low, steady. Like he didn’t want to scare her away.

Because I know it wouldn’t be me you’d call if you could help it.

She hated that he didn’t understand. She hated that she could not bring herself to tell him the truth, how his smile was the first thing she saw in the morning. That his laugh sounded in her ears with every step she took. That his hands were what she imagined when she… Red stained her cheeks.

She hadn’t yet looked at him, but she could just see his head dip to the side as if wondering what she was thinking about. Or rather, was she really thinking about what he suspected?

At the top of the tallest mountain…

“Elain,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Elain furrowed her brows, but her chin remained dipped.

He sighed unevenly and then spat, voice higher, “I’m sorry the Cauldron made me your mate. I’m sorry I’m so abhorrent you can’t even look at me. Just tell me you’re fine and I’ll go.” His arms slackened at his sides. Defeated.

Elain’s head snapped towards him then. Her eyes met one of russet and one of gold, like the brightest of suns on a fall day. She saw the tears first, the same ones she could feel marking her own cheeks.

In the depths of all the seas…

“You-,” she sniffed. “You stupid, stupid prick.”

She saw his eyes widen the instant she closed the distance between them and pointed an accusatory finger to his chest.

“You know nothing!” She yelled. Actually yelled.

Elain wiped some of the tears away, but they kept coming like an overflowing river. Feelings buried so deep came afloat.

“Don’t you understand I can’t look at you?” She demanded more than asked.

“How can you not see I’m burning?” Her index finger kept poking his chest of its own volition while his face had paled alarmingly. He was looking down at her, tears glistening in the light.

On a journey so certain…

“You think I don’t feel anything”? Elain sniffed again. “Well, you’re so terribly wrong! I feel so much every time I look at you, I don’t know what to do.” Words were flowing and she didn’t even have to think them.

“You live with me every second of every day. You render me useless every time I think of you because all I want is to touch you and kiss you and hold you and never let go.”

He caught her wrist and flattened her hand above his heart. It was beating so fast.

“I want you, Lucien.” She could feel him tremble underneath her palm, just when he closed his eyes as to savour her words. “I just don’t want to burn you.”

Lucien smiled, so sweet and wicked at the same time, eyes so full of hope she cursed herself for not telling him sooner. “Didn’t you hear?” He whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “I’m the Lord of Flames.”

I search for light and I find you.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j maas #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elucien fic

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stardewrotsession · 17 days

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Note: I finally got this done, holy shit. I tried to make these head canons more different than their 10 heart event since I already did something similar, but on some of the bachelors I just couldn’t help it. Either way, I thought this was a neat little premise.

When the bachelors plan to propose, but you beat them to it

Sam

- So I think to think of Sam as one of those “I’m gonna fake it till I make it” and pretend to be nonchalant about it on the outside.

- But on the inside he’s freaking out lol.

- You’re the first person to really get him, without the whole “you’re just a kid, grow up” attitude towards him.

- He doesn’t necessarily wanna make it too romantic. But he wants to make it romantic enough to show you he really does love you.

- Maybe he’ll write a song for you. No, maybe he’ll do something cheesy like bring a boombox to your farmhouse in the middle of a storm. No, maybe he’ll make a poster!

- He’s just a tad bit indecisive lol.

- He was thinking of writing a song about you. Was actually halfway through the song when you randomly went up to him in the middle of fall.

- “Hey, I was gonna stop by the forest to gather some mushrooms… did you wanna come with me?”

- He was planning on taking a walk at some point, so why not?

- As you two walked there, he would mess around with you and tease you while you playfully bickered with him.

- And he loves your little bickers and jabs back at him. You always laugh or smile at him in the end, and it gives him a warm feeling.

- “So, I may not have been honest when I told you I wanted to pick mushrooms with you,” You said nervously.

- “I thought you just wanted to get away from the house,” Sam replied. “Be my knight in shining armor and take me away from my room!”

- Drama queen lol

- “Well, that,” you said, laughing when he grins at you. “But there was also something else. And I wanted to do it when you were taking your fall walks up the river and to the forest.”

- “Okay… now you’re scaring me a little,” Sam says jokingly, although you could hear his tone beginning to shift.

- You took a deep breath and grabbed something in your pocket, revealing it to be a small mermaid’s pendant to him.

- “I know it might not be the most romantic,” you began to say. “If I was as talented as you, I would’ve written a song or something. But… I really didn’t wanna have to wait that long after I got stuck on a few rhymes.”

- This man was flabbergasted lol.

- You knew how to take his breath away.

- “Um… say something,” you said nervously. “Please…”

- It took you by surprised when he immediately hugged you afterwards, spinning you around and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

- “You kidding me?” He asked. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

- You let out a sigh of relief and laughed, smiling against his lips as he leaned in for a kiss.

- After he pulled away, he said, “You know, I was halfway through your proposal song. But I might as well finish it so I can sing it to you at the next concert.”

- “You wrote a song for me?” You asked.

- “Of course I did,” he said while hugging you happily. “Who do you think I am?”

Sebastian

- Sebastian never planned on getting married.

- It wasn’t really on his mind that much. He was so determined to get out of the small town first, away from the countryside.

- But after meeting you, he starts thinking about it. A lot.

- To the point where sometimes he’ll half jokingly bring up liking the countryside more because of a “certain person”, and imagining his life with you and him still in the town.

- He starts to think about his life with you a lot.

- How things would be if he moved in with you, how his life would look if he married you, or even had a family with you.

- Over time he realized he really wanted to do that.

- To the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about it. You were on his mind 24/7, and imagining you getting married to him felt like it could be a reality now.

- Now the problem was where he’d propose to you.

- He could do it maybe on the cliffside where he goes to look out at the city. But that could be weird, considering he used to go there to get away from the town. Now, he wants to stay in it.

- Maybe by the beach, but he only really goes there when it’s raining.

- The Mountain Lake isn’t anything necessarily special for the two of you.

- The whole time he was rack his brain trying to figure out where he’d propose to you. It started getting on his nerves, tbh.

- But the funny thing is…

- …that you end up proposing when you two are relaxing at the farmhouse, watching a movie together.

- “Hey, so I was walking around the beach the other day,” you began.

- “When it was raining?” He asked. “I would’ve gone with you.”

- You smile and shake your head.

- “Yeah, you could’ve. I ended up seeing a frog by the river on my way back.”

- “Lucky,” he said while grabbing some popcorn.

- “But I wanted to go to the beach, for this…”

- You slowly pull out a mermaid’s pendant, carefully holding it out towards him.

- He glanced at it, then looked back at the movie. Then did a double take.

- He immediately paused the movie and turned his body towards you, carefully admiring the pendant.

- “I know this isn’t the most romantic place,” you began. “But I really think you’re something special, Seb. And I really wanted to ask… will you marry me?”

- He couldn’t help but crack a smile, holding out his hands and admiring the pendant in its full beauty.

- “Of course I will, how can I say no to that?”

- He leans in and kisses you gently, as if his words didn’t already tell you enough.

- Sure, it could’ve been done in a more romantic way. But I don’t think Sebastian really needs that.

- He’s honestly just glad you’re here for the ride. With him.

Harvey

- So remember when I said Sam would be nervous about it?

- Harvey’s like, 10 times worse.

- He HAS to get this right, in his head.

- It’s not like he’ll think you’ll dump him if he doesn’t. Even though the thought has crossed his mind once or twice.

- He just thinks you deserve the world. Poor guy barely thinks he’s good enough to be with you, but you’ve comforted him enough to let him know he’s more than enough <3

- With that being said, he’d want to propose doing something out of his comfort zone.

- Kinda like when he took you on a date to the hot air balloon. But even bigger.

- Maybe he’ll take you to a Ferris wheel, or take you somewhere to watch fireworks.

- Or both??

- Harvey never really liked Ferris wheels. But, he was determined to go on it. To give you an amazing view, and amazing memory, and an amazing time.

- Besides, he’s gone on a hot air balloon, right? He’ll be fine.

- So he brought up the mermaid pendant that night with you in hand, planning on proposing once you two hit the highest point.

- …But he didn’t really consider how scared he’d be in the moment.

- Right when the Ferris wheel began moving, his knees locked in place and he kept closing his eyes to stop himself from looking down.

- As you two got further up, you soothed his mind by holding him, giving him soft kisses, and comforting him with words.

- “I’m sorry,” Harvey sighed. “I wanted to make this romantic for you.”

- “We still can,” you say as you start rummaging through your pocket.

- Harvey could feel his face heat up when he sees you pull out a mermaid’s pendant.

- “I wanted to do this when you were more comfortable,” you began. “But I can’t wait any longer.”

- He’s smiling a lot, and nods his head.

- “Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” he manages to say, before pulling you in for a kiss.

- Now can you imagine kissing Harvey while the Ferris wheel hits the highest point, fireworks going off in the background as the rest of the world around you two disappears?

- Stop it, you guys are literally so cute.

Alex

- I’m ngl, I think Alex would definitely want to make his proposal very public.

- He loves you, and he wants everyone to know just how much he does.

- So maybe he’d propose in the Saloon on a Friday night, when he knows everyone will be around.

- Or he’d propose at a gridball game during half time, the cameras glued to the two of you as he told the whole world just how much in love he was with you.

- Either way, he had everything set up. He settled on the saloon so you would be more comfortable.

- He might want to show you off but he also wants to make sure you feel okay first.

- He wanted to ease into his plan. Maybe take you to the beach when the sun’s setting before walking over to the saloon.

- It was so cute, he had this whole thing planned where he wanted Gus to play the violin, like your very first date.

- However when you two got to the beach, you ended up being one step ahead of him.

- Walking over to the beach, he noticed a something drawn in the sand.

- At first he thought it was one of Jas’ or Vincent’s drawings. But walking closer to it, he noticed there was a huge heart with words in the middle.

- “Will you marry me?”

- He was stunned, to say the least.

- I honestly don’t know whether or not he’d slowly turn around to face you, or whip his head as fast as he could towards you lol.

- Either way, he sees you pull out the mermaid pendant from your pocket or backpack while smiling sheepishly.

- “I tried to make it as romantic as possible…” you said.

- He laughs while nodding his head.

- He’d be a fool to not accept.

Shane

- I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really know how Shane would approach marriage.

- I know if he were to consider it, it’d definitely be because you’ve changed him for the better.

- I just really don’t think he’d know how to go about it.

- He’s never really been the romantic type, has never really thought about dates or serious commitments like that.

- Hell, before he met you, he barely thought he was gonna make it to tomorrow, let alone plan out how he was gonna propose to you.

- But he knew he had to change. Not only for you, though, dating you made him feel like he actually wanted to plan out his future.

- He knew he had to change for him, to make him happy.

- So he got to work.

- Sometimes he’d say he was going to the saloon for Joja Cola or to play Prairie King, when really he was going to ask advice on how to ask you to marry him.

- Obviously Gus was all for it.

- I think Pam was too wasted to care.

- I think Shane would settle on trying to propose to you at the saloon. Gus wanted to support Shane in any way possible, and Shane, surprisingly a romantic, wanted everyone to know how devoted he was to you.

- Unfortunately for him, he didn’t exactly know how to get a pendant.

- Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard stories and tales about it “magically appearing when the time is right.”

- But he wanted it right now, man was impatient af.

- For now, he was just going to accept your offer to go to the movies, and figure out how to get the pendant for you later.

- Jojamart had been long gone since you came, and truthfully? He was happy it was gone.

- Before it was a mixed feeling of not occupying any of his time anymore. But that time was spent with you instead.

- Anyways, two you walked to the movie theater together hand in hand. The fresh smell of popcorn hit the two of you when you entered.

- “Let’s watch It Howls in the Rain,” you suggested.

- You got him his favorite snack and practically ran to the movie room, confusing Shane but ultimately giving him something to chuckle about.

- The whole time watching it, he was reminded of how much he loved you.

- Everytime you tensed up when you got scared, when you held onto him close when a scary scene came up.

- Everything just felt right.

- “Hey Shane?”

- The movie had just ended, and people were starting to leave.

- “Yeah?”

- “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now,” you say, beginning to slip your hand into your pocket. “Close your eyes.”

- “But it’s dark here anyways-”

- “Just do it.”

- He listens carefully as you pull out something, holding his hand out when you’re ready. You close his hand around something small. Something skinny, with a little point at the end. And a string. It almost felt like a…

- He opened his eyes to see the mermaid’s pendant in his hands, and looked over at you.

- “Where did you-”

- “Don’t worry about it,” you said with a grin. “Will you marry me?”

- He looks down at the pendant again, a grin beginning to form on his face.

- “I’d be stupid if I didn’t say yes.”

Elliot

- I’m sure Elliot’s a die hard romantic, he’s gonna want to make sure everything goes right

- I mean, he always imagined a romantic relationship would be as amazing as it is in the books.

- But as cheesy as this sounds, his romantic relationship with you blew those expectations out the park.

- He truly felt loved by you, and every moment he spent with you was nothing less than a dream come true.

- So he planned it all out. Even got the mermaid pendant somehow, from some weird guy on the beach in the rain.

- You two went to the library together later that evening, and he was constantly recommending this romantic fantasy novel to you.

- He was going to plant the pendant at the end of chapter one, and once you got to it, he would get on one knee and ask the question.

- It sounded like an awfully romantic plan, to him anyways.

- However, he was so absorbed in his plan that he didn’t even notice you slipping your mermaid pendent into his pocket in the morning.

- By the time you two got to the library, he began to take out his wallet when he felt something small poke his finger.

- “What is this?” He asked before pulling it out.

- Ngl, at first he was petrified. Poor guy thought he forgot to put the pendant in the book.

- But after you explained to him how much you wanted to marry him, he realize you two were planning on proposing on the same day.

- He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, which did make you a little insecure at first.

- “No,” he said, immediately sending your uncomfortableness. “I mean…”

- He grabbed the book he wanted you to read and pulled out his mermaid’s pendant. He smiled at you as you pieced together the puzzle.

- “Really?” You asked in disbelief, a smile creeping onto your face.

- “I say we both wear one,” he says while taking yours in his hand.

- He puts the necklace over his neck and puts the necklace he gave you over yours.

- He smiled looking at you, now wearing the pendant with pride.

- “We really do think alike, my love.”

#stardew valley #stardew valley bachelors #stardew headcanon #sdv sam #stardew #sdv alex #sdv harvey #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #stardew valley headcanons #sdv elliot #first draft done #i’m tired

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042502 · 22 days

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☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The unwritten rule.

about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.

author's note: This is the chapter 4, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English, you will read this under this warning. m.list

"You really don't have to take me home," I tell him once we were outside.

"Is there something wrong with my car?" He says, looking at me, and I start to say "no" and then I see him smiling.

"It's horrible," I say once I'm inside the car. “For starters, it's not orange like the one you've promised me for so long and I'm sure I'll never actually have it, and on the other hand. Where are the dents? How can you not drive a car that doesn't have dents that mean your mother has been distracted by thinking about tortillas and pizza with bean sauce?”

"Pizza with bean sauce?"

"Yup" I look out the window. “After my mother scraped the side at the grocery store while parking, she wrote down her recipe for Mexican tortilla pizza. Look, all contest recipes have a twist. Or at least the winners have them, according to my mother. And she knows a lot about contests... Well, you know. Her thing.”

"She's done great things. I even remember those turtle cookies she made for your eighth birthday,” he recalled.

"Those things are hard to forget when someone's mother creates a river of chocolate sauce and makes everyone wait to eat while she creates the turtles in her home" he mentioned. “Worst birthday party ever.”

“No way,” Chris laughs. “That was really cute.”

"Making people wait to eat cookies and then saying there's no cake is not nice. I think people took their gifts and left."

“Well, I can get over that,” she looked at him. “I had to wear that brace on my tenth birthday.”

"You did not do it!" accused him.

He nods. "If I took them, oh hey, my sketch pad is pointed your way. We turn a corner and it slides off the dashboard and into my lap."

"Do you drive and draw?" She pointed out waving a finger at him, it feels so good to do this, to talk and to be flirting. I know, but it's just a little. He smiles, his teeth shining as he drives down the dark streets, referring to my house. "I'm trying to knock out some dents and improvise the look of the car."

He laughed and picked up the drawing pad. “Are you still doing those pencil drawings like last year?”

"Do you remember that?"

I do, and I wonder if I shouldn't still know that he had a bunch of his drawings presented and displayed at Dad's school last year. I looked at them and said I liked it when we ended up standing in the lunch line at the same time, but that was last year, and as a person not interested in it, can I admit to remembering that?

I doubt it.

I put the drawing pad back in the drawer. “You have some drawings at school, remember? Dad always drags mom and me to look at those things.”

"Yes," he says. "They were mine. You probably don't remember, but you told me last year that you liked them, and I thought, well, that was really nice of you.”

He remembers it!

I join my fingers together trying to stop myself from shaking. That wouldn't look very good. “So, you still do things like that?”

"Yes, I only made these series of hands" he talks about the drawings. “I found all these photos of my grandparents; My grandmother played the piano and my grandfather the violin, and their hands when they are playing are amazing. Just... It's like they talk to them, like I can listen to the music and want to try to show that." clears his throat. “Sorry, I know it's boring.”

I shake my head in denial. "It is not. I wish I could draw, but a straight line is all I can get.”

"What about those cubes you make in class?" It took me by surprise that he knows that. Especially since we haven't been together for a long time.

"Okay, I can draw cubes" I raise my arms feigning excitement. “Maybe I should quit school. You could travel around the world drawing cubes on things like bridges or benches. My parents could use my college money for savings. They would love that.”

He laughs again.

"Maybe you can get a start at home. Draw cubes in your driveway or something."

"Wait, are we here yet?" I noticed that we were already in front of my house "I mean, thank you for bringing me home."

"It was fun," I give him one more look before he goes back to the party, with my best friend, he's looking at me like... Well, like he wanted to look at me.

As if he likes what he sees, and he is smiling his eyes turn darker. I just nod mutely, blindly, then fumble for the door handle, trying to look away and still not being able to.

"Ada” He names me, softly, almost hesitantly, my heart beating strongly and this happens when you want someone you can't have. Loving someone you shouldn't even look at.

This is wrong, so wrong, to be here, but longing eats away at me until it is all that I am, until I am a trembling waterfall swaying toward it. I hear the soft, slow hiss of my seat belt as it extends, the faint echo hammering in my head, pulsing in my fingers and my feet, roaring in my ears, and he is so close.

And then we kissed. In a vast universe, an eternity of his mouth moving gently against mine, a slow explosion that makes my insides light up, and I want to get lost in this, in him, and never return.

His seatbelt creaks as he leans closer, one hand touching my head, and he heard me breathing, I hear him breathing. The two of us, just the two of us, except that shouldn't be it.

He is Anna's boyfriend, my best friend.

"Chris” My voice comes out like a ball scraping the aluminum, and he rests his forehead against mine. His fingers are still touching my hair. I can feel them shaking.

"Ada” he says again, and there's so much sweetness in his voice, in him, and I've tasted it. I want to do it again and again.

"I'm sorry" I apologized, he started to shake his head sideways, his hair so soft against my skin, his forehead still touching mine, and my heart screaming that I'm not completely sorry and that maybe he isn't either.

"I didn't mean to" His voice is calm, and no, of course he didn't mean to. He didn't mean for this to happen. He didn't mean for us to kiss.

He has Anna.

"Alright" I could barely speak, and me pulled me up and smiled that smile I use when Anna's boyfriends come to me, the smile that says I'll listen and understand because that's what I do. “I know things are a little weird between you and Anna right now, and the thing is, Anna thinks you're mad at her.” Then I remind myself that I have a best friend, that this is her boyfriend. “I know you're not mad, but she's just…” he swallowed. “She's really in love with you and she likes you a lot.”

Chris looks away from me at that moment, his gaze now fixed on the windshield over the dark front yard.

"I'm not..." he lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m not mad at her, I just… Ada, I really didn’t mean to…” I cut him off.

"I know" I hastened to say, I didn't want him to keep talking about this. I don't want to hear what comes after to "I really didn't mean to...", especially when you've said it twice.

I don't want to hear that this was a mistake, even though it wasn't. Not for me.

"Thank you again" I get out of the car, close the car door and walk towards my house without looking back.

I won't watch him go, I'm shaking. It's horrible to get what you wanted so much when you know you shouldn't.

I was happy to be able to talk to him, about this kiss, about tonight at the party. He mentioned last week, and a moment I've wanted to forget. But I haven't been able to do it.

Here's the moment that's stuck in my head, the one he talked about at the party.

Maybe it was nothing, but I was still thinking about it. I had been thinking about that. Last Thursday, I went to Anna's party to drop off a bunch of clothes she had left at my house. Mom had washed her and I took her out of my car, checking before the doorbell rang that Anna's mom wasn't home.

"Hey," Anna spoke to me, opening the door for me and smiling when she noticed her clean clothes in my hands.

"Your clothes washed, your majesty."

“I love your mom,” he smiled at me. “And you too, but you already know that. Come on in.”

"I don't want to bother you," Anna shook her head.

"Don't worry, Mom's at work. At least have a Pepsi or something. I did the shopping, so there's more to drink than the secret old diet."

"Okay," I walked inside the house, and saw Chris sitting in the living room on the couch. "Oh, I didn’t know… I didn��t see Chris’ car, I should go.”

"Because?" Anna asks me. “We’re just hanging out.”

Then I realized there were more people in the room too. Sonia, Mery, and Taylor were there, they were the ones Anna did a presentation with every year and they were all holding their scripts, looking at me with disgust.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"No, it's good that you're here. You can hang out with Chris because he's totally bored, but he's being too nice to say so. Also, he has to take everyone home, I promised I would do it after everyone did their presentation. And as for not seeing the car… Well, I had it parked down the street, so I won’t have to go look for it.”

And before I knew it, I was having a beer sitting next to Chris while everyone was talking except him and of course me.

Anna, Sonia, Mery, and Taylor went out to the terrace to make a scene.

"Get out! This is the kind of set we should order!" Mery said her line.

“I'm sorry,” I spoke first. “I didn't know... I thought Anna was alone.”

"I told her I wanted to talk when I came to visit her tonight and the next thing I know I'm in the room with you."

"I'm sorry," I apologized again, it was the thousandth time I had said it to him since what happened.

"No, I didn't mean that, it's nice sitting with you. That's what I mean, you know what I mean."

“Making the best of a bad situation?” I asked smiling.

"No” He was staring at me and I wanted to look away from his penetrating eyes, he was too attractive, but I couldn't look away, I had to look at him because I spent a lot of time convincing myself that I wasn't scared, that I was acting like he was just another guy. “I mean it's nice to be around actually, I don't mind being with you at all. I like it."

"Yeah, me too," I admit, still smiling and trying not to read into anything he said. He was stupid doing that and he knew it. I also knew I should stand up and leave, but I didn't move.

"Unless I'm getting ready to throw up over the railing of a boat, right?" and I automatically stopped thinking about leaving.

"Do you remember that?"

"It was only last year," he said as if it were an exaggeration.

"I know," my voice came out too firm, too calm, but inside I was shaking.

"I didn't know boats could make people this sick," he recalled. “I swear the only thing that kept me from going overboard was that I was talking to you. How come you never got those sneakers full of dots?”

Oh wow, he remembered, he really remembered.

"I did it," he said. “No, they didn't look like I thought they would. They looked like a rash. In shoes, it wasn't a pretty thing, I can't believe you heard me babbling about stitches when you were feeling so bad.”

"Are you kidding me? You were the best thing about that trip."

"The best?" I shouldn't have asked that, there was silence. It was strangely tense in a way that made my toes curl. “Second best, you mean” I break the silence again. To stop myself from looking at it and desiring it. “Getting out of the boat had to be the first.”

"Sonia, you have to relax when you dance with Taylor. Move your hips a little. Yeah, like... Okay, not that much."

“You should go practice with them,” Chris shakes his head. “Teach Sonia how to dance properly.”

"I don't want to humiliate her," he joked, stood up and did a little dance.

Chris went to some contemporary dance classes when we were kids.

"Believe me that's what you would do," he smiled as he watched their little dance. "You dance great."

"Do you remember when I asked you to that dance in eighth grade? I bet you're glad you got rid of that night” Why does he suddenly mention that?

"No, I would have loved it, I…” My voice slowly faded, hearing what I was saying. “It was better that you freed yourself, because... Well, I've seen my eighth grade photo. You've seen it too. Not at all pretty.”

He shook his head. “No, I wanted to go with you.”

And then the silence came again, that silence and I realized how close we were. How easy it was to sit with him. Smiling, he talked to him. And then I heard Anna laugh.

"I know, Chris is great. We've been together for almost two months," I heard Anna say.

"I better go, congratulations on being almost two months old, I remember the night they started dating and it's great, great!"

"Ada” He stood up, and I just left him alone in the room.

"See you later!" I went out to the terrace, I told Anna I had to go and I hugged her, then I drove home and told myself that all the things I had thought were just that. Things I only thought about and nothing more. But now, tonight has happened, and even though I know it's Anna's return, I still want it.

I didn't sleep much, alternating between excitement and terror, also half expecting Anna to come, I don't know what I would do if I knew. Would Chris have told him? I knew he wouldn't make it sound like I had kissed him, I wasn't that kind of guy, but how would you tell your girlfriend that you and her best friend had kissed in a way that didn't sound like it was?

I finally fell asleep after the sun came up, I was tired. The kiss almost looked like a dream now.

But it wasn't, it was real and it had happened. Anna came as I went downstairs to find Mom preparing her chocolate candies, and putting the food on a plate.

"What's wrong with you?" Anna asked me when I went to open the door. “You look terrible.”

"I'm just tired," I reply.

He was looking at me, it was making me shake inside. I knew it, she knew it.

"Well, can I come in?" I asked myself and then I realized that he was still blocking his way. I nodded.

I walk inside the house, sniffing the air.

"It smells like food," he mentioned with great happiness while clapping his hands, he ran towards the kitchen. "Hello," he greeted my mother.

"Look at you! I think you get prettier every day," my mother used to praise Anna a lot. "Do you want some candy?" He stretched out his arms offering him a sweet.

Anna took it and sat at the kitchen table.

"Where is the teacher?" I asked myself this time, I limited myself to pointing my head to the room, where I understood that he was there.

"What was Anna waiting for? Why is she acting so normal? ”

"How about?" She offered me the plate where she used to place the sweets she made herself.

"Great" she smiled at him as she broke one of the sweets and ate it. I shook my head scared and tense, I could feel the muscles in my legs shaking.

"Don't you think they need a little more green on the sides, maybe to enhance the sweets? Color is always good, Or maybe some orange in the base?” my mom continued talking.

How was I supposed to do this? How could she be old Ada, boring Ada when Anna knew it and stayed still for some reason?

I glance at Anna, but she was staring at the plate as if she was thinking about it now. I could not do it.

"It looks like something out of a cookbook," she smiled at my mom. "Really professional," she was excited, and went to show her sweets to dad.

Then Anna saw me again and then she finally spoke to me.

"Can we go upstairs?" I nodded, I could feel my stomach churning with guilt.

I followed her up with my vision lost in confusion and the sugar of the candy. In my room, Anna walked over to my bed and sat down to look at me.

"What's going on with Chris?" I was surprised. "No that's it" then I was confused between my thoughts and my words.

"What?" She wasn't supposed to say that.

"What's wrong with Chris?" She repeats. “He didn't say anything to me last night about being upset with me, or about his hair. But that's not a big problem. Have you talked to him these days?”

“Yes” I have to tell her then “Anna, I really have to tell you.”

"Well, at least you said something," he said and then stood up and began to move his hair. When she did it I noticed a mark on her neck, it was barely visible where her blouse ended.

"What's that?" He gave me a look that said.

"What do you mean?" like I couldn't see his neck, and of course Chris hadn't told him about the kiss.

He just returned to the party, saw her and realized how stupid he had been, then he kissed her and left that mark on her neck. Something that marked her as his property. Property of Chris.

"Well, you're a little weird." Anna touches the mark on her neck. "Shit," she walked over to the mirror in my room and looked at the mark on her neck. “I thought this shirt would cover it. Do you have something to cover it with?” I shook my head. "Your mom?"

"Maybe" she sat on my bed carefree "Why do you want to cover it? Chris doesn’t mind that.”

But thanks to Anna's silence can tell me that something was not right.

"Anna?"

"Don't say it, okay? I know it was something really stupid, but Mike…”

"Mike?" She looks at me through the mirror and then turns around, crossing her arms, still keeping her gaze on me.

"Yes," she says, "but we were just dancing." She began to move her hands, a sign that she is nervous. “He started telling me how beautiful I looked, he hugged me and then he told me "let's go outside, it's hot here" and then we... We were there for a while” his voice had become low and he spoke very quickly.

"Did you break up with Chris?" I had a big mess in my head, I couldn't understand anything.

"No!" shout.

My heart stopped, they didn't finish.

"No? But you were with Mike."

"I made sure Chris didn't see the mark, okay? I told him to take me home and that's why I couldn't talk because I had a terrible headache. And he doesn't have to know about Mike and I, you know? I don't want to break up with him. I like it a lot, Ada, but we haven't been... You know, we haven't done much...”

"Haven't you guys fucked?"

"Yes, and I don't understand why" I roll my eyes. “At first I thought it was good that he wasn't always trying to get us to do things like that. But we have only kissed” he sighed and sat next to me on the mattress. “I think I like it.”

"What do you want me to say?"

""You are the one who is always in love with boys who don't love you."

Ouch, it was true though. The truth hurts, but soon the truth would hurt her too.

"Well, every guy who likes you always likes you more," I admit, it was a painful truth, but I couldn't let myself cry right now. “The thing is, you haven't been around to notice, I'm too good to ignore it now and the rest…” It wasn't the time, she only had two boys, Anna had only been with one of them. Phillies.

Last year, I liked Phillies, he was new and from England, and he wrote great short stories and I hadn't seen Anna when we were talking and she came over. I could tell there was something about Anna that made him immune to her, and I liked being the girl she loved.

And then the homecoming thing happened. Phillies asked me if I could go to the dance with him and even though he thought everyone said they hated him because the homecoming dance was incredibly stupid, It was stupid and unbelievable because you had to buy a good dress while you saw guys dressed in different jeans and t-shirts. It was all glamorous, but somehow good, incredible.

I was excited, I had gone to buy the dress with Anna, and not something used because the boy I was going with was someone who had dumped her, so I bought something incredible. I didn't look as good as Anna, sure, she bought that short, tight, red dress that even the saleswoman said "Wow" when she came out of the dressing room, but I looked pretty.

Or at least I thought it looked good. Philis had said I looked good when he picked me up, and again when we were dancing in the over-decorated gym with the music the school had played.

I was coming back from the bathroom, I see the two of them alone in a corner of the gym talking. I could see Anna, that red dress completely caught anyone's attention. It was definitely her with the Phillies.

"You know you're the sexy girl here tonight," he watched as he ran his hands under her arms. "Say you'll dance with me."

I stood there, paralyzed, watching Anna smile at her.

"Sexy? Me? Since when? What about Adi?"

"She's not sexy," he replied, making my eyes start to sting. It didn't take long for the tears to come. I was wondering if anything he had told me was real, then he noticed my presence by turning to look at me. "Ada" but he didn't come close he just left there.

Anna instead approached me, worried? "Ada?" my name fell from his lips, as if it was his fault that Philis liked me, not me.

I looked at her even with my eyes crystallized by tears, she looked so beautiful, so much so that I hated her.

I really hated her, in the most intense way I could feel. I hate my best friend.

I just ran from there, but Anna came after me. I was furious with Phillies and even with Anna, as if it were her fault that she was more beautiful than me. She didn't force Philis to tell her those things...

"I shouldn't have agreed to talk to him," said Anna, who was walking behind me, giving me a short distance. “I'm really sorry, Adi. I thought he wanted to talk about you. He seemed to like you a lot.”

"I thought it was like that, but it seems like she likes you more” she turned to me to see her upset.

Anna began to cry, and through tears she told me, “I'm really very sorry, please don't be upset, please don't hate me.”

I hugged her and we walked together to my house. Dad and Mom took us back to the dance, and Anna and I stayed up for four hours talking about how stupid Phillies was. It hurt horribly when I saw it at school, but over time it hurt less.

The only other boy I had ever liked was Chris. Anna knew about this, but. She believed it was a primary school thing, a forgotten thing. I didn't even know if I remembered it, but I did. And I still liked it. And we kiss...

"Hello, Ada, are you listening to me?" Anna waved a hand in front of my face. "I didn't mean that how it sounded. I just don't know what to do with Chris, how to keep him with me. And then the Mike thing" she rolled her eyes.

I would never kiss anyone else if I kissed Chris.

I shake my head, trying to erase that thought, and then Mom knocks on the door.

"I just wanted to see if you two needed anything."

"We're fine," I reply seriously.

"Well, if you need anything let me know."

"I love your parents," Anna whispered. “I wish they were mine.”

I ignored his comment and focused on the mark on his neck. I tried not to think about how I had Chris and still looked at someone else. I tried not to think about how his mouth felt on mine.

"Hey, my mom is taking me to see my dad today," his voice was discouraged. "Do you want to go with me?" She had her gaze on the window, I noticed how she played with some strands of her hair.

"Sure, I'll accompany you" I sigh and give him a hug.

"It'll be fun," she murmured, but we both knew it wouldn't be like that.

જ⁀➴ taglist. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog @nsjsnshey @always-reading

Author's note: If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^

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st-eve-barnes · 10 months

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You know that I'm no good (chapter 2)

(modern Aegon x Reader, modern Sihtric x Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: Aegon tries to convince you to (fake) date him and the whole thing has an unexpected effect on you.

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Thank you to everyone for the likes/comments and love for the first chapter, let's get this thing going ;)

Word count: +2700

Read chapter 1 Here

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You were having breakfast in a local coffee shop a few days later. It was still pretty chilly outside for a July morning but you had insisted on sitting outside near the river anyway, wanting to catch the first rays of sunshine before starting work.

You took a long, satisfying sip from your caramel macchiato and then almost choked on it when someone suddenly slipped into the chair in front of you, startling you.

“Fuck,” your hand grabbed at your heart,”Aegon, what the hell?”

Aegon was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips before he sipped from his black coffee. His long hair was framing his face this morning, curly and messy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, which was probably the case. He kept his eyes on yours as he spoke,”Morning, my darling.”

His morning voice definitely betrayed he hadn’t been up for very long.

“I’m not your darling,” you smirked back at him.

“Ahh, but you could be,” he teased.

You shook your head firmly.”Um…no.”

He placed his coffee on the table and put his hands together, giving you his best puppy dog eyes,”Come on, why not? It wouldn’t even be real, just a way to get their attention.”

You sighed,”Because…It’ll never work.”

“We don’t know that if we don’t try.”

You stirred in your coffee while you looked at him but kept shaking your head.

“We get along fairly well, right?” he then asked.

“We don’t know each other, Aegon.”

“Okay, but…we get along, right?” he just repeated, making you sigh again.

“Yes, I guess we do,” you caved.

“And, I mean the idea of being with me doesn’t repulse you or anything, does it?”

You smiled,”No, you don’t repulse me.”

That wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t your type but you could admit he was a pretty attractive guy, objectively speaking.

“Good,” he grinned,”I think I can stomach being with you as well. Just for the plan, you know.”

You hit him on the arm and he gave you a cheeky grin.

It was such a small moment but it made you realize how strangely comfortable you felt around him, despite not knowing him very well. Come to think of it he’d always had that calming effect on you, much like Helaena. Maybe it was a Targaryen thing (Aemond excluded of course because he made you feel anything but calm).

But was it enough to go through with this whole thing?

“I just…I don’t know if I can do it, Aegon. I’m not that good of an actress.”

“Will you try, please?” he asked again and for the first time you could hear the desperation in his voice. He wasn’t just playing around, he wanted this to work, he wanted Skade to notice him just as much as you wanted Sihtric to notice you.

“She means that much to you, huh?” you realized.

He avoided your eyes for a moment and returned the question,”He means that much to you?”

”I don’t even know him,” you admitted,”But I feel like I’d really want to.”

Aegon stayed quiet for a moment before he continued,”I don’t know her that well either, but…I really liked her, I didn’t want to kick her out of bed after fucking her, which is a lot for me.”

You rolled your eyes at that information.”Charming.”

“She had me so completely under her spell,” he continued,”And then, just like that, it was all over.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded,”So…can we at least give this a go? Let’s just go the club on Friday with the others and if we happen to see Skade and Sihtric there we can just…play it up a little, test the waters and see if they notice. And if they don’t we can drop the whole thing, no harm done.”

“I don’t know,” you still hesitated.

“Okay…well, I’m not going to push you if you really don’t want to.” His voice was sincere and it somehow made you more open to the idea.

You sighed deeply, thinking of Sihtric and how nothing you had done so far had managed to get his attention, after months of pining you were still completely invisible to him. Maybe it was time you tried something completely different, more bold.

Like dating Aegon Targaryen.

“Okay, fine, maybe,” you caved.

“Maybe? Or fine?”

“Okay, fine, god you’re so pushy,” you rolled your eyes again but also couldn’t help but smile at the way he was beaming at you, his smile lighting up his entire face now.

“Okay! Good, this is great! You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m already regretting it,” you sighed but your smile stayed on your face as he kept his sleepy, blue eyes on you.

***

The club was filled that night, summer bringing in a mix of locals and tourists making the place more crowded than usual. Helaena was already on the dance floor when you arrived, giving you a quick wave before she returned her attention back to the guy she was dancing with, one of Jaces friends.

Aemond was sitting by the bar, as usual far away from the dancing crowd and focussed on watching everyone while he enjoyed his drink in peace.

You searched the room for Aegon but there was no sign of him yet.

You ordered yourself a drink before deciding to make your way over to the dance floor to join Helaena. That’s when you saw him. And her.

Sihtric, and Skade, having a full-on make out session right in the middle of the dance floor. You instantly regretted coming here tonight and the urge to flee was growing fast. You could be on your couch right now under a warm, comfortable blanket watching a movie you loved instead of here, with heels that were painfully high and a dress that made it hard to move, forced to look at things that would only break your heart.

Just as you were about to turn on your heel you felt a warm hand on your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, babe?” Helaena’s voice pulled you from your bad thoughts.

You smiled, pretending everything was okay,”To the dance floor, obviously.”

She locked arms with you and dragged you with her, leaving Sihtric and Skade behind.

After a few drinks and a few dances you were actually starting to feel a little bit better, as usual Helaena’s relaxed and positive aura managed to rub off on you. Or maybe it was also the alcohol taking the edge off a little bit, either way you were grateful for it.

It lasted for about an hour, until you both exchanged the dance floor for a booth in the corner of the club and they were right there again, making out in the booth next to yours.

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was doing this on purpose just to spite you. But of course he wasn’t, he didn’t even know you existed.

You lowered your eyes and avoided looking at them, feeling worse by the second until you felt a warm comforting hand on your knee. You looked up and much to your surprise it wasn’t Helaena but Aegon’s blue eyes that greeted you.

“Hey, my darling,” he teased, that familiar smirk back on his face.

“Hi, Aegon,” you smiled.

“You look beautiful tonight, that dress really brings out your tits.”

“Aegon!” you laughed and shook your head.

“What? I can’t say that you have great tits? I’m your boyfriend, I’m allowed to say that, right?”

“Fake boyfriend,” you stated.

“Whatever, you look amazing tonight,” he was blushing a little now.

“Thank you, I guess,” you accepted his compliment.

“Are they here?” he then asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded at the booth next to yours,”They’re here.”

Aegon took one look behind him, finding Sihtric and Skade still all over each other, and immediately turned his attention back to you,”Damn.”

“Yeah, damn,” you sighed.

Despite your best efforts you couldn’t tear your eyes off them, the way Sihtric’s large hand moved up her thigh to pull her closer as he kissed her. The way she hugged him back, her perfect figure melting into his while his other hand tangled into her beautiful long blonde curls. She looked like the kind of girl every man fantasized about. She looked nothing like you.

And just like that your self confidence started to crumble, Aegon’s compliment fading into the background while those voices in your head grew louder and louder, reminding you of all your insecurities.

You look nothing like her. He will never want you. You will be alone for the rest of your life.

Aegon noticed your absent stare and he squeezed your knee again, reminding you he was right there.

He moved a little closer to you, blocking Sihtric from your sight.“Hey, eyes on me,” he spoke softly,”Don’t look at them.”

You did as he asked, locking eyes with him.

“You alright?” Aegon then asked.

“Yeah, of course, it’s just the alcohol, it always makes me more emotional, I’m fine.”

That was only half a lie, it was mostly the Viking making you emotional, and the blonde who was practically sitting in his lap by now, claiming her territory.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Aegon grabbed your chin between his thumb and his index finger and turned your face towards his.”I told you to stop looking,” he repeated, firmer this time,”Don’t torture yourself like that, babe.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, lowering your eyes again but Aegon was quick to lift up your chin again, forcing your eyes to lock with his.

“Keep them on me, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded and allowed yourself to shamelessly stare into his eyes. His gaze was soft but with a hint of mischief in there and you realized you had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before now. For a moment you wanted nothing more than to stay lost in them.

It had been a long time since you’d been this close to a guy and even longer since anyone had looked at you like that. Even if it was just Aegon and none of it was real, it still made you feel all warm inside.

“Can I touch you?” he then asked softly,”Just…to pretend…if you’re still up for it, that is.”

You smiled softly at him asking for your consent and you nodded your head.“Yes, you can touch me, Aegon.”

He smiled relieved and moved his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your neck in the process and you actually shivered at his gentle touch. He leaned in a little closer to you as well, making it look as if you were almost hugging even though there was still plenty of space between you both.

Without speaking another word he moved his face closer to yours and softly nuzzled your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up. You placed your hands on his hips and he smiled against your cheek.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

Aegon laughed softly,”Yes, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can touch me anywhere you want, you don’t need to ask.”

Then he followed your lead and placed his free hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer to him while he nuzzled your jaw and your neck. You gave into it, leaning into his touch as you closed your eyes. When you moved your hand up to gently run it through his hair you could hear him let out the softest appreciative moan. It encouraged you to keep going and Aegon rewarded you with a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Well, shit,” Helaena’s voice made you both look up.

“What is it?” Aegon asked.

“This stupid plan might actually work,” she snickered.

“What do you mean?” you asked and you quickly took a sip from your drink, trying to hide how flustered you felt.

“Skade just had her eyes on you this entire time, Aegs,” she pointed out.“And Sihtric,” she turned to you,”I think you’re no longer invisible to him because he’s looking at you right now. They are so bothered, holy shit.”

You were lost for words at her statement and before you could check you watched Sihtric get up from his table and drag Skade with him. They passed by your group without acknowledging any of you.

Aegon laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Well, I guess we have to go through with it now, love,” he gave you a satisfied, cheeky smirk while his hand gently squeezed your hip.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” you sighed softly. You wanted to sound apprehensive or a little annoyed even, but all you could really focus on was that little spark of excitement bubbling at the thought of having Aegon as your devoted, handsy, fake boyfriend.

****

You blamed it on two things.

The first was that you’d been severely touch starved for years now, it had been a long time since your last boyfriend and since then you’d only had a few short flings, each one as disappointing as the next. Needless to say it didn’t encourage you to keep up an active dating life and somewhere between those last flings you had just given up and focussed on your studying.

Then you’d started work and it became even harder to meet people. You always had a small circle of friends and plenty of acquaintances but finding that one special person seemed like an impossible dream, one you eventually stopped chasing.

You weren’t unhappy with your life, you loved your job in the local bookstore, loved your little apartment looking out on the Itchen river. Winchester was the best place in the world to live, you were sure of that even though you had never left the UK.

The city was vibrant and lively but also somehow serene and filled with lots of nature and quiet spots. You had stuck around here after finishing university and hadn’t regretted it for a single second.

You met Helaena during your first year of university here and the both of you had become instant best friends. She and her family had lived in the city their entire lives. The Targaryens were old money, known by everyone in the city and owning some of the most renowned businesses in town.

You never cared about the money, to you Helaena was just your quirky, sweet friend with her two weird brothers. (Probably three weird brothers but you had never met Daeron before so you still had to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Anyway, back to you being touch starved, the point was you’d been on your own for a long time now without anyone to give you any sort of real affection. And you hadn’t even really realized that until that night in the club.

Which brings you to the second thing: Aegon.

You had never seen him as anything other than your best friend’s brother, and you still didn’t, it wasn’t that you suddenly developed feelings for him. But the way he flirted and took care of you that night, all those casual touches and innocent kisses on your cheek had awakened something in you and by the end of that night your emotions were all over the place.

And it wasn’t because of him, it was because he made you realize how badly you wanted that, a caring partner by your side, someone who looked out for you, made you feel less alone in this cold world. Someone to make you feel loved and wanted. There had never been anyone like that for you and Aegon’s kindness and affection reminded you of just how lonely you’d been.

After you’d said goodbye to him and Helaena that night you had felt a strange sort of emptiness clutch at your heart, like something vital was missing from your life.

And with that feeling came a determination to go ahead with this plan however stupid it might be. It was time to take matters into your own hands and fight for what you wanted. Regardless of how it would end, at least you would be able to put an end to this pointless crush you’d been harboring for months now.

If it didn’t work out, you could finally move on.

And if dating Aegon Targaryen was the price you had to pay to make Sihtric finally notice you, then you would happily pay.

#aegon x reader #aegon x you #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #aegon smut #sihtric smut #hotd fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic #tom glynn carney fanfic #arnas fedaravicius fanfic

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haunted-moon · 6 months

Text

Long Way Home [Part III]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

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Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

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Part III

A few months later, Star fall was to commence soon.

Excitement was in the air, and I was looking forward to it too. Rhysand and Feyre were going to host a party, and preparations were already underway. Everyone pitched in to help between their usual duties, chattering about the outfits, the food, song and dance.

Mor and Feyre repeatedly asked me about my outfit for the event. I remained evasive, since I had no plans of actually attending the party. I'd be watching the sky from elsewhere. Even though I helped with the preparations as if I was going to attend, I was gradually emptying my quarters and shifting my things to an isolated property outside the city. This property was situated in a river valley backed by the large mountains surrounding Velaris. It was an inheritance passed down in our family, and I had remodelled the villa and the gardens with the help of my dad. It was a perfect place to avoid others, and I loved it very much. Father, on the other hand, didn't like to be alone for long periods of time and didn't visit it much.

While I was still in the process of shifting my things, I started sleeping less in the nights. I stayed awake at the kitchen table with a hot cup of tea, working my anatomy drawings or study notes. The one thing I'd miss when I left was the library, so I tried to make extensive notes and copied important paragraphs from the books I read.

One night, I decided on a change of scenery and took my materials to one of the many balconies, making myself comfortable on the thick carpet. As usual, I had some tea in my favourite cup and lots of lamps to illuminate my work.

I had placed the tea-cup along with a glass jar of coloured pencils on a side table so that I wouldn't accidentally knock them off with my elbow. Leaning against the balcony railing, I was copying a detailed anatomical diagram of an Illyrian wing in my journal.

A sudden gust of wind knocked over the table and shattered the tea-cup and glass jar. I jumped, dropping my journal as I watched the carpet soak up my drink and pencils scattered everywhere. My favourite cup was broken to fragments.

Azriel appeared before I had the time to think what to do next.

"Oh, sorry," he pointed at the shattered pieces.

I sighed. The glass jar could be replaced, but the tea-cup was from one of a collection set of my mother's. It hadn't broken into very tiny pieces, though. Maybe I could put it back together, even if it couldn't be used. I could use another cup for drinking and keep this one back in its shelf.

I unfolded a drawstring pouch from my pocket and gathered all the pieces. Azriel helped by collecting the remains of the glass jar and the scattered pencils. The tea stain on the carpet couldn't be helped.

He didn't leave immediately after we finished, so I offered him a cup of tea while I brewed some for myself. He accepted, and soon enough, we had our own mugs of the hot liquid and sitting next to each other on the balcony floor, looking out into the night.

He cleared his throat. "That cup was important to you."

I nodded. A tendril of his shadow flickered near his neck, and slipped out of sight. "It's from a set that belonged to my mother."

His expression dropped from his usual polite blankness. "I'm truly sorry. If there's any way I can help fix—"

I held up a hand. "It's alright. I'll fix it by myself later on."

I was curious as to why he had appeared here. He had never actually come to a place I was in out of his own volition. I asked him about it.

He did not give a direct answer. "You weren't there in the kitchen. I was looking for you everywhere."

I fell silent, turning over his reply in my mind, unsure of how to proceed. Meanwhile, he laid down his mug and picked up the journal I used for sketching. This journal in particular was just pages and pages of anatomical Illyrian wings with the parts labelled and side information. I had drawn them in every possible angle and technique I could think of.

He slowly thumbed through the pages, his own wings slightly trembling in the breeze.

"These are really accurate," he commented as he stopped at one of the pages. His eyebrows went up, and I leaned over a bit to see what he was looking at.

It was a shaded sketch of a pair of hands, with the palms turned up. And they had scars on them. Azriel's hands, which I had drawn one feverish night from memory. Fuck.

I straightened, cupping my own mug with both hands and intensely staring at it, determined not to face him or acknowledge the drawing. My ears and neck turned hot with embarrassment. He stayed on that page for a long time before closing the journal and carefully keeping it on the carpet between us.

"Why the wings?" He asked after a while.

I shrugged. "I miss having them."

"What happened?"

I narrowed a side glance at him. "I'm sure you know what happened."

One corner of his mouth tipped up. "I do. But I'd like to hear the account from you."

I shrugged. "Nothing much to tell. Father was sent on a mission. Mother was already dead by that time and he had to take me with him since there was nobody else at the time to look after me. The task went wrong, and the enemy soldiers ripped off both our wings and left us to die. Only, we were somehow revived and brought back to life. It was quite a while before I learned how to properly balance myself without my wings."

"This was during the war, yes?"

"Yes."

He turned to me and gave me a once-over. "Your mother was not Illyrian."

I nodded. "She was a high fae from the Summer Court. It's a thing in our family's ancestry. We come from a long line of powerful healers, and not all our mates are Illyrian. She survived my birth, even with my wings, but she died during the second along with the child."

Noticing the sadness that crept into my voice, he changed the subject by pointing at my journal. "Why my hands?"

I blushed, turning away from his inquisitive gaze. "I find them beautiful, that's all."

He opened his mouth to reply, but stood up abruptly, his head cocked to the side as if listening to something.

"I have to go."

Going like this only meant one thing. "Is Elaine in need of help?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears.

He was on his way to one of the archways, and halted mid-stride. "Yes. Why?"

I shook my head, motioning for him to leave. "It's nothing. Go on. Don't let me keep you."

He took a step towards me. "But—"

"Just go."

He left.

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I took a nap right there on the carpet until the early morning rays warmed my skin. When I was awake, I started gathering all my things to go back to my room. Cassian appeared and waved at me as I stood up, my arms weighed down with the books and the empty mugs.

"Good morning, my chicken soup."

I laughed. "Morning, Cassian."

During my stay, Cassian had once fallen ill with a stomach problem and wouldn't eat anything and spat out the medicine. I mixed all the herbal concoction in some chicken soup, its flavours masking the bitterness of the herbs and fed it to him until he was better. From then on, he started calling me his chicken soup and always came to me in case of injuries and other illnesses.

He took some of my books and started walking me to my quarters. "I've fetched you breakfast, its in your room."

"Thanks."

When we reached my room, we unloaded our things on a table and I sat on a chair, keeping the breakfast tray on my lap. He took a seat on my bed and thoughtfully chewed on a piece of fruit.

His wings were gently fluttering and I couldn't stop staring.

"How does it feel to fly?" I asked in a low voice. My wings were ripped before I could do so.

His eyes softened. What happened to me and father was not a secret, everyone knew about it. He suddenly grinned as if he had a great idea.

"What if I show you, instead of describing it?"

I didn't know what to say. "Um, I don't know, I'm a pretty chubby woman, I might be too heavy for you to—"

He groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on. I will be put to shame if I can't carry you!" He stood up. "Finish your breakfast. I'll take you right now."

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Tags:

@kalulakunundrum

@thelov3lybookworm

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Read Part 4 here.

Thank you for all the responses to my previous two parts of the story!

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

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