#When they didn’t respond at first I figured either it was one of those things where the person says you should make plans & doesn’t mean it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaleldobrev · 5 months

Text

Possessive

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Ben is highly against when other men hit on you

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | HEYYY THERE. First of all- I love your work so freaking much. Second of all- if you’re still accepting requests I was wondering if I could ask for a soldier boy x reader where they’re out at a bar and some creepy guys hits on her?? Basically how Ben would react and everything. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE <333

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing (21x) & Possessive!Ben

Authors Note: I re-wrote this I think like a handful of times cause I honestly wasn’t happy with it. But now I am finally happy with it | I really hope you guys liked the way this turned out | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“So tell me why you fucking dragged me here again?” Ben asked, walking very close behind you that he might as well be attached to your back.

“Hughie’s birthday,” you reminded him.

“Remind me again why he invited me?” Ben asked. “Because we aren’t really buddy-buddy babe.”

“Because believe it or not, he doesn’t hate you,” you said. “Besides, even if he didn’t invite you, I would have dragged you here anyway cause he said I could bring a plus one. And you my guy, are my plus one.”

He rolled his eyes. “I seriously do not want to fucking be here. I have other things I could be doing than hanging out with your friends.”

You turned to him, cocking a brow. “Like what? Smashing bennies on our kitchen counter while you watch re-runs of M*A*S*H?”

He furrowed his brow, hating that you knew him all too well. “Fuck you,” was how he chose to respond.

“Fuck you too,” you smirked. “Now let’s go grandpa,” you said, taking his hand in yours and making your way to the back table where your friends probably already were.

“Y/N!” Hughie exclaimed, holding a beer in his hand. “You made it!”

“Of course I did,” you smiled; him and you exchanging hug. “I wouldn’t miss actually seeing Butcher let loose,” you winked.

“You’ve seen it plenty of times luv,” he said, picking up a shot of vodka.

“Yeah but, that was when strictly murder was involved,” you clarified. He shrugged his shoulders in response, knocking back the shot.

“Hey. I’m shocked you actually came,” Hughie said, gesturing toward Ben.

“She dr—” he started to say, but changed his mind when he saw you, looking at him with the biggest ‘do not piss me off’ look. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

“So, what’s everyone drinking?” You asked.

“White claw as usual for me. But we have beer and vodka shots too,” Annie replied, gesturing around the table as your eyes followed the drinks.

“Anyone in the mood for some rum?” You asked. “Kinda in the mood for a rum and coke myself.”

“You’re always in the mood for rum and coke,” Ben mumbled. “Rum and my coc—” He mumbled again, but you quickly cut him off, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

“Okay!” You clapped. “I’m gonna go get some rum and coke. Ben, you wanna come with me?” You asked, turning in his direction.

Ben weighed his options: he could either sit at this table making small talk with your friends that he had nothing in common with, or he could go with you to the bar and maybe have the chance to convince you to have a quickie in the bathroom. “I’ll come with you.”

“Perfect!” You clapped again, aggressively taking his hand as the two of you started making your way toward the bar.

As soon as you and Ben were out of ear and eyeshot, Annie was the first one to break the silence. “So, what’s going on with them? Because whenever I bring up their relationship she always changes the subject.”

“They aren’t in a relationship,” Butcher clarified. “Not a real one anyway.”

“I mean, friends with benefits is kind of a relationship,” Annie said. “I mean, it’s not like the two of them don’t have feelings for each other ya know?”

“How do you figure?” Butcher asked.

“You don’t see the way the two of them look at each other? Those are more than ‘I only fuck you cause you’re convenient eyes’,” she explained.

“He doesn’t love her. Dont think the cunt is even capable of love,” Butcher replied, taking another shot of vodka.

“Did you actually want rum and coke or did you just want us to have some alone time?” He smirked. “Come and cock if you will.”

“Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound disgusting?” You asked, not nearly as disgusted as you were over a year ago when you had first met him. Because you had been around him for as long as you have, you had basically become desensitized to basically everything he had said or did. Him walking around naked? Just an average Tuesday. Him snorting coke while you make pasta? Just an average Friday.

“I thought you liked the things that came out of my mouth,” he winked.

“We are not doing this right now,” you warned him.

“I mean we could. Your heart is beatin’ rather fast right now. And your cheeks are turning that pinkish color they usually get whenever you wanna jump me,” he smirked.

“Either go and sit down or stay quiet. Cause I don’t need these random people in this bar to know about our sex life,” you whispered yelled.

“Where’s your sense of adventure Sweetheart?” He smirked again, starting to tug on your empty belt loop on your jeans.

“Ben,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“What?” He asked, whispering in your ear. “It’s not like anyone’s paying attention to us. This bar is fucking crowded.” He pulled you close, and kissed your neck; which caused you to let you a tiny moan. “There she is,” he smirked against your skin.

“Okay. I need you to go sit down,” you said, Ben still very much kissing your neck.

“You really want me to go and do that when we can go into the bathroom and have a good and quick fuck?” He whispered.

His offer was tempting, more tempting than you would have liked to admit. But you had to restrain yourself, at least right now — because you didn’t want to get fucked in a dirty bar bathroom. “Ben,” your voice stern.

He knew that voice all too well, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Fine,” his voice annoyed. “Gonna go sit by your friends.”

“Ben, you can still stand here. Just keep your hands to yourself,” you told him, but he was already half way across the room. “Fucking child,” you whispered, full well knowing that he would still be able to hear you.

“Pain in my fucking ass,” he mumbled to himself.

“They’re been over there a long time,” Hughie said, trying to see over the sea of people. “Oh wait! Here they come.” But instead of you and Ben coming back toward the table, it was just Ben; and everyone looked at him with slight confusion. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Getting her rum and coke. Weren’t you paying attention?” Ben slightly snapped.

“Jesus,” Hughie mumbled.

“I think what he means is, I thought you were getting one with her,” Annie said.

“Trouble in paradise?” Butcher asked slightly smirking; holding up a shot of vodka for Ben to take. Ben just rolled his eyes and took the shot. “That’s what I thought.”

“Can someone fucking move so I can sit the fuck down?” Ben asked, his voice full of annoyance.

As you waited at the bar for yours and Ben’s drinks, you tapped your fingers along to the music that was playing even though it was very muffled sounding due to the immense crowd in the bar tonight. “Hey little lady,” you heard a male voice say, but you ignored it, thinking that he was probably talking to the girl next to you. But then you felt an aggressive tapping on your shoulders. For a split second you thought that maybe it was Ben, but you knew he would never do something like that to you.

When you turned around, a man about a few inches taller than you stood in front of you. “You talking to me?” You asked.

He scoffed. “Yeah, who else would I be talking to pretty lady?” His words made you shudder. “Cold?”

“Uh yeah…I uh…I run a little cold,” you lied. Fuck, he noticed the shuddering, you thought.

“You can borrow my jacket,” he said, starting to take off a leather jacket that reeked of menthol and cheap whiskey.

“No I’m good, thanks though,” you said, trying your best to be nice. “Besides, I’d never see you again, so you would never get your jacket back.”

“See, I fully intend on seeing you Sweetheart,” he said. “In more ways than one,” he winked. Again, you felt your body shudder. “Are you sure you don’t want my jacket? It’s honestly really fucking hot. Kinda like you.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, you thought. “I’m good honestly. And plus, I’m sure my friends have a jacket I can borrow.”

“Your friends uh?” He cocked a brow. “They as hot as you?” You honestly didn’t know how to answer that, so you just stood there a little dumbfounded. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can meet up later for a little party.”

“I don’t thin—” you started to answer.

“And before you say no. I’m sure you would love it, it’s a sex party. Like uh, that Herogasm. Ever been to Herogasm?” He asked.

Of course you’ve been to Herogasm; but it wasn’t for pleasure on any account (as that kind of thing wasn’t remotely your thing). You were strictly there to make sure things didn’t go more south than they already did. “That’s not really my —”

“I really think you’d enjoy it,” he said. “The guy who created it must of been such a freak.” You have no idea, you wanted to say.

“Soldier Boy,” you said, and the man looked at you with slight confusion, furrowing his brow. “Created it…Hero…gasm…”

“Oh shit he did! Man, that guy is a fucking legend,” the man said. “Hey, you think he would still be going to those if he didn’t get killed in that nuclear thing in Ohio back in the eighties?”

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you said, starting to actually get embarrassed.

“Anyway, enough about that guy. Have you ever had a threesome?” He asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Hey Sugar,” you heard Ben say from behind you.

“Get in line pal,” the guy said. “She’s with me.”

Ben raised a brow out of amusement. “Oh she is, is she?”

“Yeah and—hey, has anyone ever told you that you kinda look like Soldier Boy? Man, he was my favorite,” the man said. If Ben’s ego couldn’t get any higher…

“He gets that a lot,” you chimed in.

“Shit, you two know each other?” The man said, looking back and forth between you and Ben.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “We’re real familiar with each other. So why don’t you scam before I break your nose for hitting on my girlfriend here?”

The man couldn’t help himself but scoff. “Girlfriend? Dude, you wish.” Oh no.

“Excuse me?” Ben asked. “I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

“Of course you didn’t, cause you’re an old, fucking —”

Ben’s hands went into fists, and you felt him start to push past you, but you stopped him by pressing a firm hand on his chest, which was starting to get unbelievably hot. “Let’s go sit down. Annie just texted me asking me where we are.”

The drinks that the bartender made you and Ben got slid toward you, and you picked them up, attempting to hand a glass for him to hold to replace one of his fists. “Don’t wanna worry her now would we?” Ben said, his voice still full of anger, but it was attempting to sound calm.

“You’re pissed at me aren’t you?” Ben asked, as the two of you started making your way toward the table.

“Why do you think I’m pissed at you?” You questioned.

“Because I didn’t let you handle that yourself,” he answered. “I know you’re all about feminism or whatever, but I didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”

“I admit what you did was slightly more alpha than I would have liked but, I’m not remotely pissed at you,” you told him. “It was kinda…hot actually,” you confessed. “I’m just more intrigued by the choice of words you used.”

“What words?” He raised a brow, the two of you stopping in your tracks mere feet away from the table.

“The fact that you called me your girlfriend,” you said. “You could have just said friend, but you choose to use the word girlfriend.”

“Jesus Christ,” he rolled his eyes. “We are not having this conversation now.”

“But you can grope me in a crowded bar?” You asked, cocking your head.

“That’s different,” he said.

“H-okay, I’m not gonna touch that. But seriously? I think we should really talk about this at some point because you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you said.

“Doing what?” It was his turn to cock his head, and look at you with slight confusion.

“Calling me your girlfriend,” you stated.

He rolled his eyes again. “Tell me one time before this time that I called you my girlfriend.”

“Literally yesterday,” you responded all too quickly.

“Because some creep was hitting on you. To be fair, you call me your boyfriend,” he said, trying to turn this conversation in his favor somehow.

“I have never once called you my boyfriend,” you stated.

“You did. Yesterday when you were on the phone with your mom,” he told you.

“A conversation that I told you not to listen in on might I add,” you retorted.

“Okay, that’s besides the point. Point is —”

“Look, I’m gonna make this simple. Do you want me to be your actual girlfriend or not?” You asked bluntly, cutting him off.

“What?” He asked, for some reason acting like he was confused.

"I'm tired of beating around the bush okay? We like fucking, we already live together, and we genuinely like spending time with each other. So, why not just make things official?" Ben knew that you had a point. "So, do you want to be my boyfriend or not?"

"Yes," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed.

"What?" You asked, sighing.

"I wanted to be the one to ask," he mumbled.

"Fucking Christ," you mumbled.

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coeurify · 8 months

Text

LACY, OH LACY

ellie williams.

·˚ ༘ * “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. you got the one thing that i want."

pairing: ellie williams x f!reader. summary: you’ve got the one thing ellie wants, and it’s rotting her thoughts of you. based on lacy by olivia rodrigo. warning: my first go at true angst, but a happy ending! i took a much sadder direction with the song lol. reader is described as having a father figure. looks of reader never described beside that there’s ribbons in their hair. they/them pronouns used. for a GUTS writing challenge in writing server!

Envy was a nasty thing. Ellie knew that. Ellie knew that the way her lip curled down upon the sight of your frame disappearing into the Tipsy Bison in Jackson was unfair.

Ellie knew that the way her body tensed whenever you were followed quickly by an older man, one who grumbled and wiped at his sleepy eyes, wasn’t fair. The way she turned on her heel and walked away each time she saw you two, the pebbles under the toe of her converse being kicked away, that wasn’t fair either.

But god, did it tie her stomach in tiny little knots, ones that made it hard to swallow, hard to look away when your shining eyes met her’s across the street somedays.

Sometimes, she tries to blame it on sleep. She tells herself the angry feeling bubbling in her stomach is simply a result of the sleepless nights. Of the shaking and panting breaths that shoot from her as she awakes from another never ending nightmare.

But most days, she realizes it’s only an excuse. This sick feeling is reserved only for you, and Ellie wishes she could swallow it down like a shot, but it instead pools in her mouth, poisoning her movements, her thoughts, her everything around you.

When you smile the smile Ellie knew all too well, It only made her feel worse. It shouldn’t, really, Ellie should quirk her lips up in response, wave you over maybe. Joel would have insisted. But lately she just raised a hand in a softer, colder response before finding a new corner to escape down.

Hell, if Joel was here, if things were different, he would have tilted his chin up knowingly when Ellie’s own chin jutted down at the sight of you, her cheeks painted pink with something akin to affection, rather than the near constant shade of frighteningly pale her face seemed to be lately.

He had done so a million times.

When Ellie was only a measly sixteen, telling Joel she just couldn't let you stay the night while Joel and your old man went on a particularly long patrol.

“I barely even know them!” Ellie had fought, her arms crossed over the quickly beating heart in her chest. She knew you, she knew you liked to wear ribbon in your hair, she knew your favorite color was blue because your favorite shoes were that color, and she knew you were pretty. So fucking pretty, the kind that made her stomach turn all mushy and gross when she tried to talk to you over the semi regular shared dinners Joel and a few other older men around town had insisted upon.

Joel just shook his head, seemingly fighting back one of those chuckles that made it sound like he knew something Ellie didn’t. Ellie hated when he did that. “You know them well enough, kid.” was all Joel had responded, patting Ellie’s slumped back.

Joel did it when you coaxed Ellie out of her little garage for dinner inside of Joel’s, a few years later. He would never say anything, not when he could barely get Ellie to say hello anymore, but a look was all that was needed. Green meeting a more tired looking brown for just a split second, and Ellie knew. Joel saw right through the nervous looks Ellie threw your way, saw through how Ellie insisted on totally platonically complimenting you every time you walked through the door. Ellie’s knees were always pointed your way at the table, and Joel always saw.

“They’re pretty,” Joel said later that night, voice careful as he watched Ellie, who watched the dishes she silently cleaned off the table. “Sweet too, too sweet for a hell like this.” Joel could barely finish the words before he heard the creak of the door, before the house was quiet again.

The last time you were brought up, Ellie remembers being cold. She’s often cold now, but the night on the porch was one of the first truly cold nights in Jackson. It stung her nose while she walked outside of the Tipsy Bison, leaving a crowd of shocked faces.

She felt stupid, so stupid that it made the wind feel even icier against her skin. God, why did she have to dance with Dina? Her eyes had been settled on you all fucking night, but Dina was always a firecracker, always tugging Ellie to dance or talk loudly at the bar top. Ellie couldn’t stop heaving as she slammed the door. Did you think they were together too? Did you think Dina was leaning in to kiss her like Seth thought? Dina wasn’t. Ellie wanted to tell you that as soon as Dina’s lips came to her ear, “They’re watching, El.”

But Seth broke the dance before Ellie could. Joel only made it worse in Ellie eyes, and yet you still followed her out the building.

Of course you did.

“Ellie,” she remembers you saying so softly, as if she might break if you had raised your voice even a little. Maybe she would have, she was a fragile thing that night, something easily crushed in your hands. Hands that had been gripped by yours outside the Bar that night.

You were the only one who didn’t look at her like she had two heads after the Seth incident, after her face had gone red at the sight of Joel. Her harsh words to the older man didn’t scare you away, didn’t make you crumble her between your finger tips.

“You should talk to him.” Your breath hit her face, the only warmth in that fucking air, and ellie remembers smelling something that was just as delicate as a pastry, maybe a perfume your father found on a patrol, maybe just you.

You cared. Something Ellie had convinced herself otherwise of, something that didn’t make sense in her mind. Why did you have any worry about she and Joel? How did it concern you at all? But it did, and Ellie listened to you.

Ellie walked up that frosted porch, arms swinging nervously, searching for space on the wooden railing. Ellie let Joel join her, let him ask about you.

“You like them?” Joel’s hands cupped his coffee, his head tilted Ellie’s way.

Ellie remembers so vividly how she turned away, tucking her chin near her shoulder. “I’m so stupid.”

Ellie could see how Joel’s head shook lightly, “You ain’t. They’d be lucky to have you.”

Ellie wishes she answered him that night, wishes she would have sat back on the porch, wishes she didn’t call him an asshole. Ellie wishes a lot of things about that night. Maybe she would have hugged him, if she had known. Maybe she would have started that conversation with forgiveness, rather than a hint of it, thrown at the end of her scrambled words, swallowed by her eyes she willed not to cry.

Ellie wishes for a lot of things, but she knows it’s useless.

Just as useless as avoiding you, now.

You had worn a black ribbon in your hair, the day of Joel’s burial. You had hugged Ellie so tightly, and Ellie almost could feel the heartbeat she swore she lost.

“I’m so sorry,” you had blubbered into her solid frame, and she almost tucked her nose into the skin of your neck, almost let the scent of your perfume calm her. But she just thanked you, pulled back and wiped one of her shaking thumbs over your tear streaked face. She was wiping your tears that day, and somehow it felt like the only right thing to do.

But Ellie remembers that day for another reason. It had been the first day she noticed the sick feeling in her stomach. The first time the hue of pink that always clouded her vision around you was dusted green instead, jealousy clawing at her throat.

She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t look away from where you slumped against your father’s chest. How his hand rubbed your shaking back as his breath puffed out in cold little clouds.

She hated how it reminded her of him.

Ellie stood alone, and watched on, feeling the tightening green branches of whatever awfulness was growing in the pit of her stomach. She cursed whatever it was laying above space, she dug the ball of her feet into the freezing grass and she cursed the earth for leaving her here to have to see this.

She walked home alone that night, shrugging you off with a rather monotone, “Go home, don’t worry about me,” when your eyes met hers in the cold air. She saw how you deflated lightly, saw how your eyes dropped to the ground. It made her feel more nauseous. She swallowed her feelings, the good and the bad, and wrapped her arms around herself as she turned.

That night Ellie veered away from her garage, finding comfort instead on the old couch that sat in Joel’s living room, and she thinks it may be the quietest place she has ever heard. She wonders what you may be doing. Was the creaking of the walls all you heard in your Jackson home too? Surely you hadn’t ripped an old and faded jacket from a closet that did not belong to you to use as a makeshift blanket, like Ellie had.

No, Ellie is sure your father walked close to you all the way home, sure he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table for you and offered you dinner, she’s even sure he had managed to crack a smile from you.

Ellie goes to sleep with a sick stomach.

“You're jealous, that’s natural,” Dina told her a few weeks later, after another stint of that awful green vine rooting itself in Ellie, one that kept her from taking you up on an offer to help clean up Shimmer. The growing seed that made her shake her head at you and offer a small and untruthful, “Don’t need any help.”

Dina handed Ellie a cup of warm tea in the cold garage. Ellie wouldn’t drink it, and she also wouldn’t eat any of the meals the Jackson residents left at her doorstep. But everyone still tried.

“But I shouldn’t be,” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was void of any vibrancy, any spark that Ellie’s tongue usually made. It was empty, spoken coldly. cold for herself, cold for that feeling in her chest.

“You’re grieving, El, it’s ok.”

Dina pressed a kind hand to her shoulder, and despite the way Ellie poisoned you in her mind, she still found herself wishing it was yours instead.

And now, more weeks that all pressed confusingly together had passed. The flower’s outside Joel’s were covered by snow, wilted and drained of life. His house had been empty since Ellie stole some of his old clothes a week back, a jacket that embarrassingly laid on the edge of her chair as she swung open the door of her garage turned home, glancing at another container on her doormat.

It was from you, of course it was. Ellie was sure you had been sent from some sort of heaven she was far too damned to ever access. A small note held your handwriting, and Ellie leaned down, grasping the food, the warmth burning at her frozen fingers.

Maria said she didn't see you at supply day again. I think you’d like this. I remember you eating it a lot at the dinners.

ps. you’re doing great in patrols, glad you went back to them. you’re one of the best jackson has.

xx.

A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek as her chin dipped down, eyelashes tickling her skin as they closed.

Ellie was avoiding you, you had to have known that. Jesse knew it, Dina knew it, hell, even Tommy had commented on it last time he came by. Sure, Ellie was avoiding nearly everyone still, but it was no secret she turned the corner whenever you and your old man were around.

But here you were, making her food, leaving her notes of praise, complimenting her as if you had any need to. It made Ellie’s always down pointed lip quiver for a moment. You still fucking cared. Just like always.

It didn’t feel nice, it didn’t feel like how it would’ve if she got this note months ago. Then she would’ve clapped a hand over her heated cheek, stuffed it under a notebook like a kid with a crush.

But now, it felt more like an ache. A burning in her chest that made her push the door back open and slide the container on the waiting table near her door.

She should eat it later, that would be the kind thing to do. But the little voice whispers in Ellie’s ear again, the voice that drips poison over the thankfulness blossoming in her chest, ‘You think he helped them make that?’ the voice asked.

The palm of her hand pressed to her eyes as she leaned on the doorway, “Fuck.” Ellie muttered.

She kicked the wood, “Fuck!”

Ellie slammed her already bruised fist on the cracked wood and yelped. The splitting pain broke the girl from her mini temper tantrum, and the empty hand cupped the throbbing skin, a pair of teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Surely this wasn’t a normal way to react to something so kind, something as simple as food. She didn’t have to overthink every small thing, didn’t have to let her brain flip every positive to a negative, but how does Ellie stop what she has grown so accustomed to?

Ellie’s first attempt to rid her chest of the vines that constricted her ribs was a deep breath and a squeeze of her eyes. She pretends she can smell your perfume still lingering in the air, she imagines your cheeks turned up in a smile, she wonders what color of ribbon you found this week to turn into some new hair tool, and then she exhaled.

Maybe if she thought hard enough, the vines would retreat, the ache on her bones would feel more like the silk of your touch. Maybe she can let herself care more about what you give her, kindness, food, those stupid butterflies she used to feel whenever you spoke, that set of pastel oil paints from a year ago. Rather than letting that voice remind her of all the things you could not give her, things you could not repair.

You hadn’t taken Joel from her, your old man hadn’t either. You having that.. having him, it wouldn’t make any of what Ellie was going through change. She swallowed the truth down like nails as she turned away from the garage.

When Ellie opens her eyes again, her vision seems a little more bright.

By the time Ellie winds up at the stable, she is pressed closely by Dina who tends to Japan, brushing quietly

Ellie breaks the silence first, and it surprises both when the first word from her mouth is your name.

Dina’s gaze shoots over, and Ellie can almost see the thin ice she is debating stepping on, lips parting. You were never an easy topic, and usually when El uttered the syllables of your name, Dina was in for a long and drawn out conversation she never knew truly how to maneuver, the conversation layered with every confusing feeling Ellie had for you. The guilt, the jealousy. Everything in between.

Ellie beats her to speaking again, “They left me food again today. I woke up to it.”

Dina nods slowly, eyes falling back to her horse. “That’s nice of them.”

“It is,” Ellie agrees, flexing her bruising knuckles. “Left a note too, complimenting me and shit.”

The brunette to the side of her pauses for a moment, her boots turning in lightly as she judged her next step. “If you had told me this a year ago, I think you would’ve blabbered for like.. forty minutes about how they were ‘the greatest thing ever to exist’ or convinced me it meant they were in love with you.”

The air is silent, and Dina thinks she may have overstepped.

But the vines have taken on a softer sort of squeezing on Ellie’s chest now, one that felt like the ribbon you wore.

“Yea,” she smiled lightly, and Dina stumbled a bit, maybe out of pure shock. “Yea I probably would have.”

The silence finds them again, though there’s no thickness to it, and Ellie finds her heavy shoulders just slightly less pained for a moment.

Until the stable door swings open, and Ellie watches as Dina’s head turns. She can tell from the look on her face alone, on the way she blinks a few times and glances at Ellie.

You had just walked through.

You walk by where Japan and Shimmer stood, and you smiled like you always did.

This time, Ellie’s chest only tightened lightly. She only felt the small tug of ribbon when she recognized the flannel you had pushed up to your elbows, one she had seen your father wear on patrols many times.

This time, Ellie tries to smile back. She doesn’t let that burn find her stomach, doesn’t let the voice sneer at the clothing and remind Ellie of what she did not have. This time, Ellie speaks instead.

“Thanks for the food.”

You look almost as nervous as Ellie feels. You probably didn’t expect responses by this point.

“Oh it’s no problem,” you shake your head and smile. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Ellie nods, tensing up, useless to decide where this conversation should go, where it could go.

Just as the branches begin to curl around her lungs again, Dina cuts them down with her voice.

“El and I thought about sharing it after patrol today, maybe over some shitty movie. You in?”

The auburn haired girl shoots an aimed look at Dina, but the way you light up and step closer, the way she can smell that pastry scent again, it calms her lightly.

“It’ll be fun,” Ellie offered, voice cracking toward the end.

“Yea,” you smile, toes bouncing like they did when you were excited. Toes covered by your favorite shade of blue shoes. “I’d really like that.”

When you meet Ellie’s eyes, she can see pink instead of green again for the first time.

#ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams

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pitchsidestories · 5 months

Text

know that you're not alone II Leah Williamson x Reader

Masterlist I word count: 2279

“You know, you can always tell me what’s going on in your mind…“ Leahs words made you look up in surprise. You hadn’t even noticed that you were lost in your own thoughts. With a sigh, you sat up a bit straighter on your team mates couch; “It’s just…“

“It’s what?“, Leah prompted you to continue. She was sitting on the opposite side of her living room on a piano stool. You also didn’t notice that she had stopped practicing.

“I’m not where I thought I would be with 26… and it seems like everyone else has got it all figured out with with marriage and kids…“, you explained truthfully. Leah smiled empathetically at you; “Trust me, no one’s got it all figured out yet.“

“Well, you do.“, you shrugged in response, taking in her perfectly tied pony tail. “I do? I have nothing figured out.“, the defender laughed. You pointed at the piano; “Your career is flying and I don’t know how you manage all the things you do at the moment.“

She was currently learning to play the piano for a performance with the BBC Concert Orchestra and you couldn’t help but be impressed by her eagerness. “I don’t have it either. I don’t manage all these things by myself.“, Leah replied, shaking her head.

A moment of silence passed between you two. “I’m so sick of it, Lee.“, you complained. “Okay, wait.“, Leah started, turning back to her piano but you interrupted her; “No, why don’t those things matter too? That we play for a great club? Have amazing friendships?“ “It does matter. We might not get measured by that but it does.“, Leah replied, before you could continue your rant.

As she played the first notes on her piano, you looked at her in confusion; “What are you doing?“ Your team mate remained silent and carried on playing. You recognized the song quickly and groaned; “Oh no. Not Cat Burns.“

“Hey, don’t complain about her music. She’s great.“, Leah scolded you with a laugh. “You’re obsessed with her.“, you rolled your eyes, amused. The defender gave you a death stare with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth; “Shut up and listen to this song.“

Thankfully, instead of singing the song for you, she turned it on and continued playing along. “Okay, fine.“, you gave in and had to admit that the lyrics of the song really resonated with you.

Still, you had to make a comment about the song text; “Wait, why is she singing about the troubles of being 26 when she’s just 23?“ Leah rolled her eyes at you; “It doesn’t matter what age. The twenties are always confusing and I have a feeling the thirties won’t be any better.“

“Kim and Jen seem pretty comfortable.”, you disagreed winking. The blonde gave you an amused look:” Yeah but I can tell you, they still don’t have a clue what they’re doing?” “Yes, I guess you’re right with that.”, you admitted chuckling.

The softness in the defender’s features disappeared again and the usual stern expression returned when she demanded:” I am. Now listen to the rest of this song.”

With closed eyes you let the lyrics comfort you like a warm hug from a friend, by the end of the song you had to swallow hard: “Okay, I might still not like her music that much but the song hits right there it should be.” “You just have no taste.”, Leah shrugged.

As usual you couldn’t help but to tease your teammate a little bit: “Rude coming from someone who’s music taste is stuck in the 70s.” “Not my fault that they don’t make music like that anymore.”, the blonde responded with a dramatic sigh.

That didn’t stop you from adding:” But you’re not from the seventies, you’re a nineties girl.” “And? I can still appreciate that music.”, Leah replied unimpressed.

To appease her you took the place next to her, already placing your fingers on the keyboard:” Let’s play another song together.” “Which one?”, she curiously turned her head to face you directly.

Sheepishly you grinned at her starting to play the opening of North London forever:” What about this one?” “My favourite one.”, she answered laughing. You loved making your normally serious friend break out of her shell and hear her laughter fill the room.

Later that day Leah offered you to stay overnight, as usual you were sleeping in the same bed side by side but when you woke up the next morning you couldn’t believe your eyes. “Lee stop stealing my sweaters.”, you scolded her not quite as serious as you liked it to be.

In a sassy tone the defender remarked: Too late.” “Also, it’s winter break you don’t even need to go to the gym.”, you told your teammate.

Stubbornly she packed the final things into her sports bag: ”And? I still have to get up at some point.” “But your bed is so cozy.”, you countered, wearing an innocent smile on your lips.

For a moment Leah paused in her movements: “You can stay in my bed if you want.” “Thanks. When are we supposed to meet the girls again? So, I know when I have to get ready?”, you asked her as you were closing your eyes. Promptly the defender reassured you before heading out of her home: “You have a few more hours.”

With a sigh, you snuggled back into the warm blankets, snoozing for a bit longer. Leah, on the other hand, was trying to focus on her exercises in the gym instead of Keiras video call. “Lee, you have to tell her how you really feel about her…“, Barcelonas midfielder was telling her.

“It’s not that easy, Kei.“, Leah replied between two sets of lunges. Keira sighed; “Why not? I think it’s pretty simple. Honestly, didn’t your self-help books teach you anything about that?“ “Actually, no. They don’t tell me how to tell my team mate that I might have a crush on her.“, the defender rolled her eyes.

“You’re lucky that football is my love language and I only have experience from dating other players, so here’s my advice. Are you listening?“ Instead of Leah, Keiras girlfriend Laura replied to her question; “Yeah, I’m listening.“ “She wasn’t talking to you!“, Leah laughed.

Laura grinned into the camera at the Arsenal player; “I know but I’m still curious.“ “You two need to shut up to hear my advice though.“, Keira reminded the two. Leah took her phone to see her friend better and patiently sat down on her mat; “Enlighten us.“ “Stop being afraid and go for it.“, Keira advised her.

The defender frowned; “Just a short question about that statement.“ “Sure, go on.“ “How many girls did you ask out again? And how many times were you asked?“ Keiras cheeks immediately turned red while Laura hysterically laughed in the background.

The Barcelona player grimaced and admitted; “They always ask me.“ “And now tell me why I should listen to you again?“, Leah asked with a smug smile. “Because I’m your best mate and I want you and her to be happy.“, Keira replied, making big innocent eyes at her friend.

Leah let a few seconds pass before she shrugged; “We’ll see.“ “Can’t wait to see you guys later.“, Keira smiled happily. “Me neither.“, Leah answered before resuming her strengthening and mobility exercises.

When Leah came back from the gym, you were wide awake, having showered and dressed yourself. When your guests showed up in the evening, Leah and you were just in the process of preparing dinner.

You left your team mate alone with the pizza dough and opened the door; “Kei and Lau, hi. You’re lucky we already prepared everything to do the pizzas!“ “And we’re starving!“, Leah yelled from the kitchen. “Same here.“, Keira laughed back and you stepped aside to let the couple into Leahs kitchen.

The Arsenal defender couldn’t help but to smirk at her comment: “I knew you would say that.” “Stop only talking and let’s start doing the pizzas.”, you reminded them why you four were in the kitchen. The mentioning of food made Lauras stomach growl:” Please.”

“Did Lee already told you?”, curiously the Barcelona midfielder turned to you. In confusion you lifted your eyebrows:” What do you mean with she told me.” “Keira shut up.”, Leah demanded while hitting her playfully on her arm.

With a soft chuckle Keira lifted her spoon so the Arsenal defender could see it: “Be careful I’m having the tomato sauce in my hands!” “I don’t care.”, the blonde replied cheerful. Clearing your throat, you intervened: “But I care about the pizzas.”

“We have enough sauce, don’t worry.”, Leah reassured you. You could feel your muscles relaxing as she softly touched your shoulder. Optimistic the Roma player added:” Yes, they will turn out great.” “Ours yes.”, Leah grinned cheekily putting her free arm around your waist just as to underline who she meant with ours.

Eyerolling Keira countered: “Excuse me I have a Roma player in my team.” “Yeah, but she’s Austrian. Laura doesn’t know how to make a pizza.”, the defender interjected feisty.

Not too impressed by the blonde’s teasing Laura asked her interested:” So it’s a competition of who will make the better pizzas.” “Yes.”, you nodded. Your teammate confirmed: “It’s now.” “The game is on.”, Keira answered, while throwing flower into your direction.

Surprised you looked down at your clothes who were covered in white now:“Keira what the hell?” “Barca isn’t good for her. She would have never done that a few years ago.”, Leah sighed out loud. Laughing you continued:” Yeah, she’s getting too confident now.”

After you four put the pizzas into the oven you told them:” I’ll go to the bathroom now and get myself cleaned.”

While you were away the Barcelona midfielder whispered into her close friend’s ear:” Go after her Leah.” “To the bathroom?!”, the defender exclaimed. Winking Keira cheered on her: “Uhm you’re usually in the locker room with her, so there’s nothing you have not seen yet.”

“There’s a difference between a locker and a bathroom, Keira.”, Leah shook her head. “Don’t be a coward, Leah.” “I’m not.”, she pouted.

A few minutes later you nearly walked into your teammate as you opened the door from the bathroom: Oh sorry, Lee.” “Oh, don’t worry.”, the blonde waved it off. You could sense that something was off with her, so you wanted to know:” Are you okay?” “Uh sure.”, Leah licked nervously her lips.

“You looked like you were about to say something…“, you prompted your team mate to speak. “I… uhm…“ Leah was never lost for words, you knew that.

You cocked your head, watching her closely, before trying to encourage her; “Remember the ‚You know you can always tell me what’s going on in your mind‘? That counts for you too.“

Finally, Leah sighed in defeat; “Are you sure you want to hear it?“ “Yes.“, you nodded determinedly. Another few seconds passed. “I like you.. not just like team mates or friends. You get me like no one else does.“, Leah revealed.

For a moment your breath stopped; “You mean…“ “Yes. But you don’t have to say anything right now. We can just continue the evening like nothing ever happened.“, Leah explained.

She was about to turn away from you and go back into the kitchen but you held her back; “No, I don’t want to forget it.“

With hopeful eyes, Leah looked back at you as you started to quietly sing live more & love more by Cat Burns under your breath; “'Cause if there's something you wanna do, just do it. Don’t let your head stop your heart from moving.If there's someone you wanna talk to, talk to ‘em. Who knows who we'd be if we just live more and love more.“

Biting her lip, the defender listened attentively. When you stopped, she lifted her eyebrow; “I thought you didn’t like her music!“

“Oh, I think our pizza is ready.“, you changed the topic, innocently blinking. Leah suppressed a laugh while you went back to the kitchen, where Keira and Laura had placed the pizzas on the table.

“Ours looks prettier“, Keira declared pointing at big smiley face on their pizza. “No, it doesn’t!“, Leah protested. “Yeah, it does!“ “Children!“, Laura interrupted them with a laugh. You sat down, taking a slice of your and Leahs pizza and happily biting into it; “As long as it tastes good. That’s how you actually recognize a good pizza.“

“Yours definitely looks like it was made with love.“, Laura commented, winking at the two of you. “Laura!“, Leah exclaimed but her face had turned a slightly pinkish colour. The Roma player shrugged; “Just saying.“

“You’re right though, Laura.“, you smiled and reached over the table for Leahs hand. Laura returned the smile; “I know.“ Leah shook her head about the girls on her kitchen table; “I hate you all.“

“No, you don’t.“, Keira countered. “Sadly. But I could need a kiss right now for all the bravery it took to say those things.“, Leah explained, looking at you with a slight pout. You raised your eyebrow, laughing; “From a team mate and friend?“

“Coming!“, Keira answered and stood up from her chair. “I didn’t mean you, Kei!“, Leah grimaced before leaning towards you and kissing you for the first time.

You were so caught up in the kiss that you didn’t even register Keira saying; “Rude. Do you have it on film, Laura.“ “Yes, I got it.“ When you two pulled apart, you saw the other couple happily looking down to the photos on Lauras camera.

#Spotify #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #engwnt #lionesses #arsenal wfc #keira walsh #laura feiersinger

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solar-wing · 7 months

Text

⚣ Domestic Living With Jason 🩳

⚣🩳 A/N → I'm physically incapable of writing anything under 500 words. But, this was inspired by my love of compression shirts (especially the Under Armor ones and how I would do exactly this if my boyfriend tried to walk out wearing one). May start a series off this, we'll see. Warnings: Domestic Vibes. Married Energy. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Petty Jason.

⚣🩳 Summary → Domestic life is something. Domestic life with Jason Todd is another thing. One moment, you're ready to fight this man. Next moment, you're ready to fight this man. *wink wink* Wait, hold up. Jason, what the hell are you wearing?!

⚣🩳 Words → 1.5K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🩳

“Jason, hurry up! I need to get back so I can finish this essay.” Y/N yelled from the living room of his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment.

If you asked him a year ago what he figured living with his boyfriend would be like, he’d more than likely answer with a lot of freaking sex. Of course, other things came with it, but that was the first thing that always came to mind.

It also came with a lot of stay-at-home dates. Jason was unsurprisingly a natural homebody and loved to spend his evenings when he could with his lovely boyfriend cuddled against his body while watching a movie or playing a game and munching down on some takeout.

Truthfully, it was nice seeing how Jason was in a domestic situation. It served as a reminder to Y/N that under all those scars, grumpiness, and tough exterior was just a boy who wanted to be loved.

On the other end, living with Jason made Y/N take a long, hard look in the mirror and reflect on all the bad habits he had when living at home with his parents and starting college. For example, time management…

Before he started dating Jason, Y/N was the kind of person who waited till twenty minutes before he had to leave to start getting dressed. Whenever someone would text him and ask for his location, he’d respond telling them he was leaving the house now.

Then, when he was actually leaving the house and they’d text him again, he’d respond saying he was on the freeway. Truly, the best example of what not to do when he wanted to be on time somewhere.

After he started dating Jason though, and especially when they moved in together, Y/N sent a long apology to his parents who had tried for years to teach him better time management. The crazy thing about that was when they asked him why he was apologizing and he explained that Jason’s time management made him look like an angel, they didn’t believe him!

In their eyes, Jason was a saint who could do no wrong. Which was ironic considering Y/N’s dad promised to castrate any man who dared even look his son’s way. And his mom, well, not sure that’s really appropriate to mention.

Yet, when it came to Mr. Jason Peter Todd, he might as well have been hand-delivered from God himself. Maybe it was because his boyfriend could and would be late to anything else in the world (Lord knows Bruce went through hell and back just to get him to be on time for family dinner), but if it was anything involving Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, he was twenty minutes early with a gift he picked up from the local Target.

It also could be that Jason was the world’s biggest kiss-ass (when he needed to be) and used that to wrap Y/N’s parents around his finger. Either or…

But now, since they were only going to the gym, Jason was of course taking his sweet time to get ready, which, every passing second was another snap of one of Y/N’s nerves. Truthfully, he would’ve just grabbed his keys and left without him, but the last time he did that, Jason went and bought a steering-wheel clutch to put on his car and hid the keys from him for two weeks.

Another thing Y/N’s parents would never believe about their son’s beloved boyfriend; the fucker was petty as hell.

“I’m coming, babe! Be out in a sec,” Jason yelled from behind their bedroom door.

“You said that five minutes ago!”

“Sorry, I don’t recall. Maybe you imagined it.”

This gaslighting motherfu–

Y/N had to take a deep breath to calm his growing impulsive need to bust down that door and slap the fuck out of his boyfriend’s neck. It didn’t help…

“You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend. You can’t hit your boyfriend,” Y/N mumbled to himself while tapping his foot against the floor repeatedly to distract himself from the ticking seconds passing by in his mind.

Two minutes later, the door opened and revealed his tall and bulky man looking ever so fresh and handsome. Though Y/N was still irritated beyond belief, the sight of his boyfriend’s handsome face who grew a smile and twinkle in his eyes when he looked at him always managed to dissipate his temper.

Not by much though. Jason’s neck still looked like a very bright and large target just waiting for a good sting from the palm of his hands.

Maybe Tim was right, they were a match made in heaven just off violent tendencies alone.

“That was not a sec,” Y/N reprimanded in a grumble.

Jason’s smile turned into a self-satisfied grin while he walked past his boyfriend to their coat closet, grabbing his abnormally large gym shoes. Seriously, what size is this man’s foot?

“Hey, it’s not my fault you waited till the last day to finish your homework.” He replied while tying his shoe.

“Um, actually it is. Every time I tried to sit down and work on it, you’d either start complaining about how I wasn’t paying any attention to you or you’d get randomly horny and start touching me in ways that shall not be named and I’d end up with your dick inside me.”

Y/N immediately regretted his words when he saw how Jason looked up from finishing his last shoe, a lustful blown look on his face as he eyed his body up and down. Thankfully, he didn’t seem like he was about to act on his impulses as he kept tying his shoe without looking before standing back up.

Why was that hot?

“Sounds like you need to practice self-control, sir.”

Oh, no he didn’t.

“Sir, I was already tempted to smack the back of your neck before. I beg you to not increase that urge.”

“Do it. I dare you,” Jason challenged, standing right in front of him with his towering frame. The tone in his voice and the look on his face were signaling something that Y/N was very tempted to answer, but he had to keep rationality in the forefront of his mind.

“You not worth it,” He responded, side-stepping him while going to grab his jacket.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Sir, don’t get fu–”

It was at that moment Y/N took a full look at his boyfriend, specifically what he was wearing. And while the sight was something he wouldn’t mind staring at, he definitely didn’t want other people staring at him.

“Excuse me, but what in the hell are you wearing?” Y/N asked, still looking him up and down.

Jason looked confused for a moment, also looking at his outfit, not seeing what the problem was.

“Um, a shirt and sweats? Is this a trick question or,”

“Why is it so tight? Who are you trying to show off for?”

This man was wearing a black compression shirt and gray joggers like it was just a regular Sunday. The Lord is watching, how dare he?!

Jason’s smirk immediately came back when he realized what he was really about, “Oh, what? I can’t wear tight clothes now to the gym?”

“Not unless you want me to fight bitches. Because, just in case you forgot, I do fight bitches.”

“Language, or I’m telling mom. And I like it when you fight over me,” He said while grabbing at Y/N’s waist.

He immediately popped the vigilante’s hands off him, “Don’t involve my mother in and hands off mister.”

“Our mother, thank you,” Jason corrected.

“It’s giving incestuous, and last time I checked, there is no ring on this finger and my last name is not Todd.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Y/N was sat.

“I-, that was really hot and we’re gonna move on from that,” Y/N responded, and Jason once again had a cocky smirk on his face. Lord knows this man was more than likely dead serious. He’d drop everything and drive to a ring shop right now.

“Anyway, you need to go change sir. I don’t need them dirty, mud-bathing rats staring at what is for my eyes only.” Y/N responded, pointing back to their bedroom waiting for Jason to move.

“Oh, so I need to go change, but when you were wearing those tiny shorts, showing off what’s supposed to be for my eyes only, I got told to mind the business that pays me,” Jason asked with a laugh.

“Are you on my payroll?” Y/N questioned.

“No.”

“My point still stands.”

“You think you’re funny,”

“I think I’m hilarious, actually. In fact, I’m so funny, I’m going to get the extra small shorts I just got in the mail since you want to play with me.” Y/N turned around and sprinted for their bedroom.

“Oh, I’ll play all day,” Jason mumbled under his breath before throwing their gym bags down to the ground and kicking off his shoes before following his boyfriend into the room.

They did not make it to the gym, but they definitely got their workout in.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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cherrryxx · 6 months

Note

Hey, I hope you're okay. I would like yo request sole headcanons of Zoro and/or Sanji in a relationship with a male Reader. I hope it doesn't cause any inconvenience!

Absolutely!! I love requests so it was definitely not an inconvenience ❤️

ZORO / SANJI X MALE READER HCS

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, mild cursing, Zoro is a tad jealous, sexuality hcs, male reader, teensy bit of angst (internalized homophobia), mentions of smoking

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

ZORO

-Listen to me when I say that this man is 1000% MLM, gay, a homo

-Open about it in the way he doesn’t care who knows, or what people say

-Hasn’t been in many relationships because he considers them a lifetime commitment, he takes it very seriously in believes in both expressing love/emotions, while growing with one another

-At first he kind of treated it a bit like a job, but not in a negative way, he just wasn’t sure how to express emotions

-He would try to talk to you, but felt awkward if he didn’t know how to respond (mostly because what he had to say was how to fix it, and if you didn’t do it he knew he would get frustrated with you)

-After some time expressing emotion became a lot easier, he became a lot more comfortable with talking about things

-Love language is definitely quality time, acts of service, and physical touch

-He likes to take naps together with you, either using your chest as his pillow or vise-versa

-Anyone who would ever want to say something bad about your relationship is too scared to actually say anything

-Has some odd/different ways of showing affection

-sometimes he might give you food off his plate, or randomly lay his arm over your shoulder

-He also loves it when you train with him

-you don’t even have to do any actual training, you could just help him out by sitting on his back while he does pushups (at first he would just claim it’s because he needed a better workout, but over time it became an odd bonding activity)

-Wasn’t really sure how dates “worked” at first, but after figuring it out (asking Sanji) he would take you on dates at least once or twice a month

-His dates at first would be things he thought you would enjoy (aka crazy training exercises), but once he was able to figure out the things you liked he would bring you to those instead

-Would probably pretend to not like certain things (like romantic dinners/Watching a movie together), but would internally enjoy them so, so much.

-Would try to cook for you sometimes. Heavy emphasis on try (he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen for weeks)

SANJI

-This poor cook is definitely a Bisexual in denial

-Probably has some internalized homophobia due to his upbringing :( (but he would never let you know or take it out on you EVER, he would take that shit to the grave before ever considering that)

-Once he was able to work through that, he was much more comfortable with his sexuality.

-He would be a little unsure about how to express love with another man at first, but quickly warmed up

-He would cook food for you whenever you even hinted at being hungry, and would treat the dishes he made you with more care than even the girls’ plates

-Sanji would treat you more with the kindness he shows girls, rather than the way he would talk to Luffy, Zoro, or any other male crewmate

-He would be absolutely enamored by you, just looking at you would make his day better

-His love language is pretty much every love language to exist

-Constantly works with acts of service with how much he cooks for you, and would buy clothes or anything you wanted (gift giving)

-Always tells you how much he loves and appreciates you, all the time, and he loves it even more if it happens to make you flustered

-He would also try to share his cigarettes with you, but if you didn’t smoke, or had any issue with smelling it, he would either stop smoking entirely or make sure he smoked when he wasn’t around you

-Sanji loves to be near or around you as much as possible, if he’s cooking he wouldn’t even mind you asking to help, even if you accidentally messed something up

-Dates with this man are the most romantic shit ever

-Roses, candle lit dinner, expensive gifts, cuddles afterwards

-He truly thinks of every little detail when you two go on dates

-He’ll even restrain from kicking peoples’ asses when they annoy him to avoid ruining the mood

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ideas-live-forever · 10 months

Text

Different Dates With Ken!

This is my first time writing in a while, so forgive me if I’m rusty! Been obsessed with the Barbie movie, so here’s some Stereotypical Ken x Reader headcanonssss

please feel free to send ken prompts/asks i am so bored!!

(also, i wrote this in like an hour so there’s probably some typos and ken is probably ooc or something i’m sorry 😭)

You and Ken had been dating for a month now, the two of you in the human world

dinner dates

He doesn’t really have a concept of indoor voices, so he kind of talks at a normal volume.

which would be fine, except you’re in a formal restaurant where everyone is basically whispering.

If you gently point it out, though, he’ll go extra quiet and only talk in a whisper for the rest of the dinner.

He’s just paranoid that he’s embarrassing you or something.

When the bill comes, he definitely tries to pay it (assuming he has money).

If you get to the bill first, he gets really pouty, though he’ll forget he was ever upset if you give him a kiss.

“Y/nnnn, let me pay. It’s the least I can do," Ken begs, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.

"No," you respond. "You try to pay for everything. Let me treat you once in a while."

It takes a great deal of self-control, but you can't stay away from his eyes long enough to pay for dinner. After you hand the check back to the waiter, you glance back at a now-sulking Ken. He looks almost sad.

With an affectionate eye roll and a smile, you lean across the table and press a small kiss onto his lips. Immediately, he melts into it. And when you pull back, he’s all smiles before he remembers that he’s supposed to be mad at you.

If he gets to it first, he pays, and he smiles at you triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

After dinner, he insists on walking you home because he doesn’t own a car.

At your door, he thanks you for taking him out and kind of stands there awkwardly.

You have to lean in and initiate the goodbye kiss, but he more than enjoys it.

Study dates/coffee shop dates

Ken didn’t go to college, or school at all, really, so he didn’t quite understand the concept of the date you were currently bringing him to.

However, he sat patiently in the coffee shop while you got your stuff together and opened your laptop, just smiling at you like an idiot.

He takes the time to admire you in your element.

When you ask him what coffee he wants so you can get it for him, he cocks his head in confusion.

"There are, like, different kinds?" he asks innocently, glancing between you and the sigh with different options he had previously failed to notice.

You have to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

"Yeah, there’s a bunch. Come on, I'll recommend you some."

Ken tried a latte.

He didn’t like it.

However, he sipped on it periodically, mirroring your actions as you looked through your work.

He had brought some books on Horses to look over while you were doing your thing, but he couldn’t really focus on reading while you were right there.

He placed some random sticky notes on the pages absentmindedly as he watched you with wonder in his blue eyes.

If you get frustrated at all, He’s quick to ask what’s bothering you and decides that he’s going to help you study. Whether that involved holding your extra papers or helping you with flashcards,

When you wrap up, you notice how little of his latte he has drank.

When you ask about it, he quickly downs the whole thing, plastering a fake smile on top of his look of disgust.

movie dates

This one was Ken's idea.

There's a movie theater in Barbieland, so he knew the basic premise of a movie date.

Although it took a while for him to figure out how to buy the tickets because in Barbieland they were free,

She definitely picked The Little Mermaid.

It seemed like a safe option to him, considering that everything else was either sad-looking or a horror movie, and he can’t really handle either of those.

The plan was to meet at the theater, so he waited outside for you to get there.

When you did, you two went inside and ordered a large popcorn, but Ken let out a little gasp of excitement at the other snacks on sale.

He ends up buying a pretzel, a bag of chips, and a bag of cookies.

All of which he insists on sharing with you.

When you finally go into the theater, he gets a confused look on his face.

He’s never seen movie ads before, so he assumes they're part of the movie.

"I thought this was about a mermaid."

After explaining it to him, he nods vigorously and blushes a bit in embarrassment.

When the movie finally starts, he smiles really big and turns to look at you.

Ken gets HEAVILY invested in the movie.

He definitely cries during Part of Your World, and he’s horrible at hiding it. That results in him clinging to your arm and the people next to him giving him weird looks.

When it’s over, he has a look of faraway wonder in his eyes.

As you two walk out of the theater, he can’t stop gushing about how cute Ariel and Eric were. And how he wanted to watch the original animated movie. And how you two should have matched Little Mermaid Halloween Costumes

Before you leave to go home, Ken gives you a bone-crushing hug and a thank you for spending your afternoon with him.

Which leads you to kiss him.

Which makes him unable to stop blushing as you say your goodbyes for the night.

#barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #ken headcanon #ken blurbs #stereotypical ken x reader #ryan gosling ken x reader #ken fluff #ken imagine

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hangeswif3 · 4 months

Note

PLEASE PART 2 OF RINDOS PREGNANT WIFE 🙏

Nerve wreck

Pairing: Rindou Haitani x pregnant!reader

Warning: pregnancy, strong language, the Haitani brothers are a warning by themselves.

Note: a bit more lore into pregnant!reader and Rin. My bf and I just broke up so this might be either good or bad.

U know the drill, English is not my first language so pls be nice. I love u all and thank u for reading, x.

You were walking around the house, cleaning a little bit. Trying to stay active was kinda difficult when every time you did something Rindou insisted on you resting. You didn’t complain though, you were being so spoiled that every time you wanted something he would run and get it for you.

It had been 3 weeks since the incident with his “co-workers.” You had had a big conversation about that, but ultimately you weren’t opposed to meet the people he spends most of his time with, you knew they were dangerous but so was your boyfriend, and he could keep you safe. Now he was out again, it was already nighttime but you couldn’t sleep so you got up and started to clean a little and move stuff around.

You were carrying a lamp around trying to figure out were to put it when you felt an excruciating pain in your belly, it was so strong that made you drop the lamp and cause it to shatter on the floor. You grabbed your belly and sat down, trying to breathe. 10 minutes passed when you felt the pain again, something wasn’t right.

You reached for your phone as you could and try to dial your boyfriend’s number. The pain was so strong that was causing you to have trouble breathing.

Rindou was in the car with Sanzu and Ran, Mikey had instructed them to follow around some gang members all day, to try and get some more information on their plans.

“Man, this idiots are dumb as fuck if they don’t know by now they’re being followed.” Said Sanzu, clearly annoyed by the task. “It’s not like we’re the most discreet fucking people.”

It was true though, they weren’t even trying to be discreet. They just wanted an excuse to kill them and get this over with.

But to be fair, the men were pretty stupid.

Ran was telling Sanzu how it would be better if he didn’t have bright pink hair, but Rindou just zoned out for a moment, his phone was vibrating in his pocket and he really had no idea who might be. The only people that called him to his personal phone were you and Ran, and half of those people were with him right now.

He couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest when he saw your name on the screen, you never called him when he was working. So it had to be an emergency.

Without a second thought he responded.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he said, earning Ran’s attention, who shushed Sanzu and stared at his brother to try and understand what was going on.

“No, I… agh… the baby…” you said, barely able to talk. “There’s something wrong, Rin.”

“I…it’s okay… I’ll be there” Rindou wasn’t finding his words. He was feeling the most scared he had ever felt in his life. “We’ll be there.”

He looked at his brother, and his look of utter panic made him realize what was happening.

It was you.

“Stop the car.” Ran said, and Sanzu did it without a word, sensing the tension.

“Rindou, I’m scared.” You said almost crying.

“I-I’ll be there.” Stuttered Rindou, he could feel his heart pounding and his voice shaking.

Ran was noticing how scared his brother was, he was listening to the conversation so he grabbed the phone.

“Hey princess, it’s me.” He said with the calmest voice he could find.

“R-Ran?”

“The one and only” he said smiling “now, I know you’re scared but everything’s gonna be okay, alright? I need you to breathe for me and be ready at the front door okay? We’ll be there in 5.”

“O-okay, in 5” you repeated, trying to breathe.

“Yes, good girl. See you in a bit” was all he said before hanging up.

Ran turned to his brother.

“Man, you have to calm down.” He said serious.

“We have to go, I’ll drive.” Rindou said, trying to get out of the car.

“Hell no, you’re gonna kill us all.” Sanzu said from the drivers seat. “I’ll drive.”

He looked at Ran from the mirror and he only nodded, signaling Sanzu to start driving.

Sanzu remembered very well the was to Rindou’s girl’s house. He was driving as fast as he could (which was very fast for Sanzu), ignoring all the traffic signs and earning a bunch of honks and insults from other drivers. He was a surprisingly good driver.

The arrived at the house in a time record. Rindou got out of the car immediately and went to get you.

You were waiting at the front door, like Ran said. You were sitting on the floor holding your belly. You were crying but trying to appear brave.

Rindou tried his best to look calm for you. He helped you get up carefully and led you to the car.

“Are you okay?” He asked, once you were sitting by Ran.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.” You said, wincing from the pain.

“Let’s go” Rindou said and Sanzu started to drive as fast as he could but trying to be more careful.

Sanzu looked concentrated, for once, he wasn’t playing around.

The whole way to the hospital Rindou was trying to calm you down (and calm himself down as well) by giving you words of affirmation and rubbing your belly.

You arrived at the hospital and Ran was the first to get out, running to get a wheelchair. Rindou helped you get out of the car and get inside.

“She’s almost seven months pregnant, and is in a lot pf pain.” Rindou said hurriedly to the lady at the front desk.

A nurse quickly got you into a room to get checked out. Rindou was with you the whole time, holding your hand. By now you were fully crying, you were so scared.

“Well, let’s listen to the heart.” The doctor said, placing the medical instrument in your belly and listening carefully. “Sounds like everything’s okay here.” He said.

He ran some tests and finally got the ultrasound machine to take a look of the baby.

You were still holding Rindou’s hand, you were calmer now, but still nervous.

“Looks like everything’s okay with your baby.” He said.

Both you and Rindou seemed to be able to breathe once again. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“So, everything’s okay?” Rindou asked.

“Yes, the pain she was experiencing are regular cramps. Many pregnant woman feel them through their pregnancies, but looks like your little girl is nice and healthy.” The doctor said.

“Girl?” You asked.

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“We decided to wait but, you’re telling us we’re having a girl?” You said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Im so sorry” said the doctor “but congratulations. I’ll leave you too alone now”

When the doctor left you and Rindou looked at each other.

“I guess we’re having a girl.” He said.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

He smiled and kissed you.

Rindou left you in the room so you could change and he could tell Ran that everything was okay.

“Im having a girl.” Was the first thing he said to him.

Ran immediately knew that everything was fine.

“Hell yeah, I knew it!” He said before Rindou started explaining everything that happened.

Sanzu, who had been sitting by himself in the waiting room, finally decided to approach them.

“So, is she okay?” He said, trying to look like he wasn’t worried.

Rindou looked at him, surprised.

“Yeah, she’s okay.” He said, and Sanzu nodded. “Thank you for the, uh, ride.”

“Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

Both men stayed quiet for a while. Until you came out of the room, going directly to Sanzu.

“Thank you for everything, mister Haruchiyo.” You said, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

Sanzu stayed still, his face turning pink. Ran laughed at him while Rindou rolled his eyes, you took your boyfriends hand and walked to the front door.

“Our girl’s gonna have an amazing family.” You said, smiling.

#tr rindou #haitani rindou imagines #haitani rindou x reader #rindou headcanons #rindou x you #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #tokrev rindou #bonten rindou #haitani rindou headcanons

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honeybeefae · 11 months

Note

pls do the sexting prompt (nsfw obv) but i cant pick which bat boy bc i wanna read it for them all so u pick :)

Also this is such a fun idea i cant wait to read them all!!

Passing Notes (Bat Boys x Reader)

BINGO: Sexting

(Okay so obviously we don’t have a phone but we can do it the old-fashioned way ;). I figured I’d do each bat boy since I couldn’t choose either so take your pick or take the lot! Also, Azriel’s took a different turn for sexting but I hope you guys like it? I didn’t want to repeat the same prompt that I did for Cass! Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut

RHYSAND

You were in the library with at least three different books scattered across the table. It was late and you knew your mate was waiting for you in bed but you needed to get this done. You were so close to finding the answers you were looking for in regard to some myth, it was within your grasp so you were going to stay up until it was solved.

A small note appeared in front of you, right as you went to mark something with your pen and you smiled and shook your head.

How cruel to leave your mate alone and cold.

He was such an Illyrian baby. You almost didn’t reply, not wanting to entertain his theatrics, but you couldn’t resist teasing him.

If you are that desperate for company I’m sure Cassian wouldn’t mind joining you.

It vanished into thin air and you went back to your book, your eyes narrowing as you began scribbling until the note appeared once more. What had you started?

Cassian wouldn’t be keen on the company I wish from you, darling.

You bit down on your bottom lip and crossed your legs. He was in one of those moods and you knew you soon would be as well. The two of you had a very hard time keeping your hands to yourself and when you were working like this, your mate made it his personal mission to distract you in the best way possible.

Your pen hesitated over the paper as you wondered if you wanted to get into this with him but when you saw the image he sent down the bond of his cock in his hands, you folded quickly.

It looks like you’ve got things taken care of on your end, my Lord. What exactly would my purpose be?

A rush of heat went down to your sex as you shifted in your seat, unable to focus on what was in front of you. He took longer than normal to respond and you couldn’t help but imagine why. At this rate, you would be running to your bedroom before he could even finish his sentence.

I want to make sure you’re taken care of, Y/N. I know that ache inside you is growing, I can feel it. Let me ease it for you.

The sound of your chair scrapping backward was loud as you allowed your hands to wander underneath your pants, finding the wetness of your cunt as you slowly rubbed yourself. Two could play at this game.

It was tricky to write with one hand occupied but you managed, proud of your work as you sent the paper back as well as a sly picture of where your fingers currently were to him.

How would you ease it? I can picture many, many different ways but my favorite is with your head buried between my legs and your cock in my mouth.

Rhysand gave a harsh tug on the bond and you giggled breathlessly, knowing it was a warning to behave. You responded by sending him another image but this time it was of you riding him from earlier, your entire body on fire from how desperately you needed him.

A soft breeze swept over you as you opened your hazy eyes to find your mate looming over you, his cock standing proudly while his jaw was tight. You smirked, crooking your finger to beckon him forward. He immediately fell to his knees and lifted your legs over his shoulders, kissing the inside of your thigh as you ran a hand through his dark locks.

“Wicked woman.” He purred, giving you a smoldering look before diving head-first into your cunt. You gasped and arched into him, your tasks long forgotten as you welcomed the distraction.

===========================================

CASSIAN

“Does everyone understand what we are going to be doing?” Feyre asked while standing at the head of the table, making eye contact with the entire group. They all nodded and you were doing your best to keep up but your mate was making it increasingly hard to do.

Cassian sat beside you, his aura oozing with nonchalance as he slipped a small piece of paper to you. You frowned, trying not to roll your eyes as you opened it underneath the table like you were in school.

I know what I am going to be doing ;)

You coughed to cover up your snort, shooting him a playful glare before shaking your head. Feyre glanced at the two of you but Elain asked something that thankfully got her attention off of you.

The pen in your hand flew swiftly across the page as you wrote your response, sliding it back over to him and folding your hands in your lap.

I know where you’ll be sleeping if you do not pay attention to our High Lady, General.

He shifted in his seat, a small smirk on his lips as he wrote something down. You sighed, realizing your mistake in playing into his antics while he slid it back over to you again.

How can I pay attention when all I can think about is your hair in my hand, you gripping our headboard, and your cunt gripping my cock?

A small whine was building in the back of your throat as he turned the heat all the way to a ten. You crossed your legs and bit down on your bottom lip, the meeting losing some of its importance as you contemplated a response.

Your pussy was starting to develop a heartbeat as you reread his words over and over in your mind. He was watching you, one of his hands covering his mouth to hide his grin as he got you hook, line, and sinker. You were screwed.

Fuck you.

It wasn’t a clever comeback but he had pulled out an ace when you least expected it. He always had this effect on you, to make you speechless and melt like butter in his hands. The voices of your friends started to get fuzzy as you moved in your chair, biting back a moan at the friction.

No, princess, that’s your job.

His reply was instant and your cheeks grew hot from both frustration and lust. You didn’t want to reply to him, hoping that by ignoring the situation you could regain control, but Cassian was one step ahead of you.

One of his hands ‘innocently’ fell to your thigh, the tablecloth hiding his dark intentions as he immediately traveled up to your panties. There was already a wet spot forming and you took a huge gulp of your wine when he thrust a thick finger into you.

It was nice but not what you wanted, your sex aching to be filled with his cock. You raised your hips slightly, trying to get him to either go deeper or add more, but he kept that teasing pace. His finger curled and found your g-spot easily, rubbing it while biting his lip as your hand gripped his arm tightly.

“Y/N!” Feyre shouted, breaking you from your spell as you shot straight up and winced. All eyes were on the two of you, knowing looks and smirks from some while Azriel and Nesta looked annoyed. “Look, I know the mating bond is new-”

“I’m so sorry, Feyre, and everyone,” You blurted out, squealing when Cassian picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

“You are so right, Feyre. I think we might go fix that situation right now so we don’t cause any more distractions. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” He called, winking at Rhys who gave him a knowing look and eye roll.

“That’s not-” She tried to argue but the two of you were already outside and in the air, his arms tight around you as you giggled loudly. You were both going to be in trouble tomorrow but for tonight you were going to enjoy each other.

===========================================

AZRIEL

The dress Mor had lent you was a scarlet red with a plunging neckline and a slit so high you were nervous that you were going to end up flashing someone. It was something you wouldn’t normally wear but with your mission at the Court of Nightmares, you had to dress the part.

You were currently seducing one of the higher court members, his ego so easily inflated that you were a little bored with how easy it was. All he wanted to do was brag about himself, his wealth, and his ties. He wasn’t particularly interesting but he was harboring a book in his room that your friends were stealing as you speak.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you here before. I saw you were visiting with our High Lord. Are you a friend of his?” He asked you, his hand grazing the back of your waist.

A small shrug and some made-up story were enough for his prying to be sated, though the same couldn’t be said for his wandering hands. You masked your frown, trying to cover it with a yawn until you felt something slither around your ankle.

It was cool and firm, caressing your skin as it traveled upward while you looked down in confusion and alarm. You didn’t connect the dots until your eyes found your mate, Azriel, standing in the corner with an evil glint in his eyes.

Of course. He was jealous.

As if on cue you felt him reach out through the bond, tugging on it with frustration that had you placing a hand over your chest in surprise. The man in front of you raised an eyebrow, his lips curled over the rim of his glass.

“Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm fine,” You replied, sending a warning look to your mate when the man took a sip of his drink. “Just a chest pain, nothing more.”

“Well, as I was saying, my father,” The man continued on as he had been all night, not noticing you bite down on your lip as those shadows slid further up your thigh until they were teasing the outside of your underwear.

Your body flinched from the contact as you tried to control your facial reactions. Azriel was risking the whole mission with this stunt but fuck it felt good.

“Are you even listening to me?” His voice was curt as you tuned back into whatever he was blabbering about. “You know there are plenty of other females-”

“No, no, I'm so sorry.” You rushed to soothe him, grasping his upper arm just as the shadows squeezed through the fabric of your panties to rub your clit. “I think the wine might be disagreeing with me is all, I feel flushed.”

He surveyed you, taking in your heated cheeks and glazed eyes before a dark look graced his face. His nostrils flared and you realized with great horror and embarrassment that he could smell you. And he thought he was the reason.

“If you were so desperate, young lady, all you had to do was ask. I can smell you.” He whispered into your ear, suddenly too close for comfort as Azriel continued playing with your body like a violin. “Shall we go back to my room?”

Before he could even lay a finger on you your mate appeared behind you, his stature menacing as he shot daggers at the man. You subconsciously moved closer to Azriel, your body practically vibrating as you swallowed a needy whimper as he picked up the speed on your clit.

“Is there a problem here?” Azriel asked lowly, dangerously, which actually had the man taking a step back. “I couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were getting.”

“Is that a problem for you, Illyrian?” The man sneered, going to grab your arm to pull you into him. “Your owner needs to put his leash back on you.”

A thick silence followed his comments as Azriel stepped toe to toe with him, his wings flared in a show of dominance before Rhysand stepped in to cool down the situation. He looked at you for answers but your mate started pulling you through the crowd and out the doors the minute his High Lord took over.

“Azriel, Azriel!” You whisper-shout, having to basically run to keep up with his strides. “You just ruined the whole point of tonight! I had it under control and I don’t even know if they’ve had time to-”

You gasped when he suddenly turned down a dark hallway and shoved you against the wall, a large hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His cock was straining against his pants and when you whined underneath him, it flexed in need.

“You didn’t have it under control. You let that man touch you, to think that he was the reason you’re soaking wet under that dress.” Azriel snarled, his lips inches from yours. “I’ll be damned if I let any other man think they have claim to you. And I’m going to show you what happens when you forget that.”

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lyneira · 1 year

Text

♡ How to gain the cephalopod's adoration ♡

-> things you can do to make da boss swoon over you

azul x reader (fluff!)

Check out malleus' ver. / leona's ver. here!

Be thoughtful and kind, do little things for him!

Is it busy at the Mostro Lounge? Offer to help out! Are you eating Azul’s favorite food, fried chicken? Save some for him! Found any interesting coins? Hand them over to him to examine and keep! Do him little favors and give him small things that you know he’ll like. Show him that he’s been on your mind because it's about to boggle his own. This boy will be so confused at your actions because he sees the idea of giving without expecting anything back as unusual, sketchy, even. After all, many of his interactions with people have been transactional, especially with the use of his contracts. So he will ask you directly for your motives, and you’d give him an answer that would further flabbergast him: “Why not?” (which would make this guy "aaAAA MOU YADA!!" himself away from you lmaooo 💀)

One thing is for sure– he'll never forget anything you'd given him or had done for him. He wouldn’t forget a single detail because he's planning to return the favor. It wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t do so. And so he would pay you back by helping you study, giving you free meals at the lounge, and offering other things that would help you, all without even having to make you sign a contract.

The extent to which he does all this will also surprise you that even you will have to ask him, why? What would he gain from this? And he’ll respond that it was to simply pay you back.

Tut tut.

Keep your gaze on him because he’s not done yet. Not until you’ve seen him avert his eyes from yours, the redness in his cheeks growing brighter, and he'll softly reply,

“...Your time. I would get to spend more time with you, y/n.”

And in time, he’d eventually like to gain your heart as well, teehee ♡

(But after he says that, he'll be an absolute mess, so try not to tease him too much about it please! Dude is already so insecure about himself, don't give him another reason to be 😭 If you give him a peck on the cheek though, he might not be able to survive that either ;) )

Remind him of home by hosting a feast for him on his birthday!

In his Birthday Vignette, it’s clear to see that Azul loves his family. During those times he can’t come home for break or especially during his birthday (since it’s still wintertime), find a way to set up a feast for him like he used to when he was younger. Bring Jade and Floyd into the plan if you have to! (If you’re trying to set up the feast in the Mostro Lounge without Azul noticing, then you’ll really have to include them) Your thoughtfulness will warm his heart.

Sing with him!

Don’t be shy now. He has a thing for singing voices, so you’ve got to let him hear yours! Have him hop on the piano, chirp a few notes, and sing along with him (Or at least try to!) Have some jam sessions together, singing through both of your favorite songs, and maybe have Jade and Floyd hop in with their instruments too. (Y’all can basically be a band LOL) He’d find it so endearing! spending a good time with his favorite ppl :)

Collect coins with him!

I've already briefly mentioned this in the first bullet point but let me elaborate a bit. Whatever interesting-looking coins you have laying around or that you find outside, bring it to him. Some of them might not be worth much, but he'd enjoy examining them and figuring out its origins. If you manage to find a rare coin, the joy that will bloom on his face will be priceless (no pun intended heh) and it'd be a different type of happiness than the composed type he'd usually show. We want to see more of that!

Compliment the Mostro Lounge!

The Mostro Lounge is Azul's baby. Take notice of the things he's doing with it and how he's trying to improve it. He invests so much into his business and he will have just as much appreciation for you if you notice all these details he puts into it. Whether it's the color he chose for the tablecloths or the brand of dishware he serves with, let him know you're aware of it! It'll show that you care about what he deeply cherishes, and so will he cherish you too.

Though some parts of his childhood were rough, remind him of the best parts and have him focus on that instead. Make him feel comfortable enough that he can allow himself to truly open up to you instead of holing up in his octopus-pot 🐙

a/n: I know that description is funky but you can't tell me azul and the leech bros aren't basically the fish mafia of NRC and therefore he's *with a Brooklyn accent* da boss.

I also wanted to mention for that first bullet point, there was another thing that I was thinking of writing instead. Ok so when Azul asks you about your motives fo being so kind to him and if you were to say, "To make you happy" or smth like that, he'd probably say, "You want my happiness? Then let me have your time. It's a fair deal, no? ;) " but I scrapped that idea bc I don't think he'd be so smooth around his crush ngl LOL 😂

Anyway, Idia is probably gonna be next! Then maybe Vil or Jade, hmm

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst #twst x reader #nene writes~♡#twst fluff #jade leech #floyd leech

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lowkeychenle · 6 months

Text

Irrevocably (3) (M)

Description: Following the night of the party, all you want to do is be alone. Chenle, on the other hand, has other ideas, and is suddenly hellbent on proving to you he'll be better for you

Content Warnings: Angst (previous content warnings from other parts do apply, please check those out before you continue). Smut: explicit, rough, unprotected sex (let's make sure to use protection y'alllll), multiple rounds, why is chenle always pussy drunk i don't understand, use of pet names baby and pretty girl, temperature play (ice), oral (both), cockwarming (did y'all really think I could end a fic on a BAD NOTE when it's CHENLE WEEK?! no bye)

Word Count: 9,105

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Full Fic Masterlist | Requests

Taglist: @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

You wish you could say things changed for you. That you miraculously felt better after you broke down in front of Chenle. Maybe you’d be in a magical world of bliss at this point if that were the case. He’d finally realize all of the bullshit he did and beg for your forgiveness, but a man like him is too prideful to admit his mistakes. You know that now.

He stayed with you until you were calm enough to think rationally, but as soon as your thinking ability came back, you hightailed away from him as fast as you could. Thankfully, Jisung hadn’t been drinking, so he offered to take you home.

He was probably dying to know—not only why Chenle stormed after you and Mark, only for Mark and Chenle’s girlfriend to both stomp off in anger, swearing they’d never speak to either of you again. Although, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. Everyone is suddenly painfully aware that you and Chenle have some sort of history that’s more than what you’d let on.

The first text from Chenle came that night. Apparently, he decided it was time to unblock you.

Chenle: I’m so sorry

All you can do is snort and drop your phone into your lap. You make sure to actually open the message so he sees you’ve read it without responding. He doesn’t deserve anymore of your time. Even if it is to apologize. You want to tear the world down when you see the two hearts next to his name, one in your favorite color, and one in his.

“You okay?” Jisung asks as he pulls up to your building. “I know we’re all friends with Chenle, but you’re important to us, too, okay? Don’t hold anything in if you’re hurting.”

Your throat is dry, and you’re sure your face is still red and puffy from all the crying you did. “Thanks, Ji. I really don’t feel like talking at all tonight. I’m sorry.”

“As long as you know I’m here if you need me.”

You nod once at him and thank him quietly before getting out of his car. Without a single look back, you head into your building. You’re not sure what to expect. Considering how Chenle’s been acting lately, his sad apology attempt is most likely all you’ll get. He’ll go back after his girlfriend, and you’ll end up blocked all over again before the end of the week.

Once you’re inside your house, you have the urge to curl into a ball on the couch with your favorite blanket and never leave the protection of the walls around you. With the door locked, nobody will ever be able to bother you.

Hours turn into days and days into weeks, and the most you’ve done is go to the grocery store once. Delivery has become your savior, but even that doesn’t sit right with you. To your surprise, Chenle continued to message you periodically.

Chenle: You have every right to be pissed at me. I know. All I want is to explain myself, okay?

Chenle: I fucked up so bad I know I did

Chenle: I need you in my life (Y/N)

You’re even more surprised when you don’t hear a single peep from Mark. Chenle was texting you at least once a day, and it seemed that as many times as he sent something to you, you were reaching out to Mark.

You love Chenle. There’s no denying it any longer, but you know better than to love someone who’s not emotionally available to you. Chenle already tore you down to the ground once.

Chenle: I’m not gonna give up until you talk to me. Even if it’s just five minutes

Chenle: I fucking miss you

Chenle: in a real way…i’m not missing anyone. I’m missing you. Please.

Chenle: I don’t even know what to say next, but I’m gonna keep texting you until you respond to me

On week three, he even went as far as to knock on your door. You hadn’t left or ordered any delivery, so you were confused as to why someone was there. Looking out the peephole, your breath faltered at the sight of Chenle. He had no right to show up. You hadn’t responded for a reason, and you’ll apparently have to move apartments to stay away from him.

“I know you’re there,” he says, voice carrying to you. “(Y/N), I really just want to talk to you. I don’t know how many times I can tell you I’m sorry before you believe me.”

You almost laugh and give away how close you are. It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, it’ll take much more than that for you to even consider talking to him. You watch him closely as his face scrunches up and he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not giving up. Ever. You’ll see. I need you and we both know it.”

The door must be thin, because when you let out a shuddering breath at his words, he perks up. It’s almost as if he’s looking right at you through the wood, like he knows exactly where you are.

“Just let me in,” he asks again. “I know what I did was wrong, and I don’t want to ask you to forgive me, but I do want to explain myself. If anything, it’ll give you some closure knowing this wasn’t your fault.”

Your heart rate escalates to the point you’re sure it’ll shatter upon impact with your ribcage. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you angrily brush it away. He doesn’t deserve your time, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to be in your safe space.

“Please. You won’t even have to say anything. Let me say my piece and then I’ll go, okay?”

This isn’t even the same Chenle you knew, you tell yourself. Nothing has changed. All he wants is leverage.

The tone of his voice makes it hard to believe that, but you steel your resolve. You have to ignore him.

After that, he slumps in defeat, sighs, and walks away. You let out a pent up breath, relieved he decided to go.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

When dinner time rolls around, you don’t have any groceries since you’ve been holed up for weeks now. The only logical response is to order pizza. Plus, after the emotional wreckage Chenle left you in, you’ve earned it.

It takes about forty-five minutes for the food to arrive, and you gladly throw the door open. You recoil in shock at the sight of Chenle holding the box.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You scoff.

“I gave the dude a $50 bill and he just gave it to me. I really just want to talk—”

“That’s not the problem, Chenle,” you cut him off, stomping off toward your kitchen. “You continue to disrespect boundaries and me, and it’s not okay. I’m having trouble figuring out why you can’t see that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You stand on one side of the island, and he sets the box down on the opposite end, resting his palms against it.

“You deserve an explanation.” His gaze scans over you, guilt written all over his face.

“Another thing you don’t get. If I wanted or needed an explanation, I would’ve asked you. Actually, I did, and you not giving it to me was the answer. You’ve ruined everything for me. I can’t even talk to any of the guys without feeling like they’re pitying me.” You run your fingers through your hair. “You hurt me, and you’re doing it again by showing up when I said I didn’t want anything to do with you. You’re selfish. You only care about yourself and making up your image in my eyes so I don’t hate you.”

“Do you?” he whispers. “Hate me?”

“That doesn’t concern you anymore.”

“Either way, I know you should. I’m not here to make myself look better, okay? I don’t want you to excuse my behavior because it was beyond fucked up, but I want you to know that it wasn’t anything about you that made things work out this way.”

You pause, averting away from the pleading look on his face. “What could you possibly have going on to justify all of this bullshit?”

“It’s not a justification,” he clarifies. “I know it was wrong. All of it. I know I’m a shitty person for putting you through that.”

He takes your silence as approval to continue.

“Honestly, I miss you so fucking much. Before all of this, you were my best friend, and I know I was yours. I never meant for it to get this messed up, you know? I…Towards the end of our, um, situation, I realized I was in love with you. Real love. Love that made me want you in ways I couldn’t, because I already knew there was no way you’d feel the same.

“And so I gave up. I had to press the fucking panic button and get as far away from you as possible. Jia showed up at the right time, and I threw everything I had into her instead. I didn’t tell her about what we’d done, because I also thought that meant I’d have to admit to her what came along with it.

“Things got…serious, I guess. She was around my family and they all loved her. You know how important they are to me, so I felt so much pressure to maintain this relationship because they’d never been so excited about me being with a girl before. So yeah, when we broke up, my first instinct was to come to you. I love you, and it was the first time I felt really happy in months.

“But when she called me, (Y/N), I felt like I didn’t have a choice. You wouldn’t ever want me in the way I needed, my family loved her, and everything fell apart. It wasn’t until she made me block you that I really saw what it was like without you in my life. When I first started dating her, we still talked and hung out all the time, so it was…okay. As long as I could have you both, I was okay.

“And seeing you with Mark fucked me up so bad. I wanted to take you away from him and keep you for myself, but in my head, that never meant you were on the backburner. Everything was you, and even the idea of Mark having you in the ways I did broke me into pieces.

“And I was talking to Jia recently, just to apologize to her for wasting months of her life. She told me that the night everything blew up, she slept with Mark. They were both pissed and wanted revenge, I guess, but I wasn’t even upset. I didn’t care. But if it had been you, I…Nobody has ever had my heart the way you do.”

Tears stream down your face, but you refuse to acknowledge their existence. Chenle’s eyes are welled up, his jaw clenched tight once he finishes his words.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you choke out, turning away from him.

“I know,” he agrees without hesitation. “I know.”

He makes his way around the counter, and you take a step back.

“Please don’t touch me.” You shake your head.

“I won’t,” he murmurs, standing so close in proximity to you, you smell his cologne. The scent invades your senses, and you suddenly have trouble breathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

You recoil in shock for the second time in the past hour when he lowers himself to his knees. He looks up at you, totally defeated as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice catches in his throat. “I’m not asking for us to be together, and I’m not asking for anything close to what we had before. I just want us to be friends again. I need you in my life. No matter where that spot is.”

“God, Chenle, get off the floor.” You wipe angrily at the dampness on your cheeks.

“I need you. Please.”

When you look at him, you hate how you see him. How he looks like the Chenle you knew before all of this happened. The sight in front of you makes you want to kiss him and tell him you love him too, but you’re well aware all of this could be an act. Maybe he gave this same speech to Jia, and you’re the leftover—

“Jia’s gone. I promise. You’re more important to me, okay? Whatever you want or need, I’ll do it.” The pleading gleam in his gaze has your frozen heart slowly melting.

You can’t give in. Friendship could be good for the two of you, but if you give him anymore now, you fear it’ll be detrimental for you in the future.

“Friends. That’s it.” You watch him closely as the relief floods over him.

“Thank you.” He stands up and brushes his jeans off. “I won’t do that to you again. I fucking swear.”

“We’re not immediately going back to normal,” you tell him, confidently meeting his stare for the first time in a long time. “You have to prove yourself to me. That you care about me as a person and not as something to take your stress out on. No more out of place jealousy, no more butting into things that have nothing to do with you. Our past doesn’t exist anymore.”

“I’m not going to let you down,” Chenle insists. “I swear I won’t.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

One week later, 9:35 p.m., September 15th, 2023, Jaemin’s house

You arrived at the party by yourself, but the majority of the group was already there. Jaemin sees you first, letting out a loud cheer when he makes eye contact with you. It’s the first time you agreed to come out after everything that happened, so they all view it as a big deal.

You laugh as he hugs you, and then pulls you down to sit next to him. Thankfully, no one brings up what happened last month, and you’re able to have a good time with your friends without you feeling like they secretly pity you for all of the shit Chenle pulled.

Speaking of him, he hasn’t arrived yet, but you know he’s coming. He’d never miss one of Jaemin’s parties. That, and he told you this morning in his daily good morning text that he was excited to see you tonight. The entire week, you’d been in contact with him, and you almost hated how normal it felt to sink back into a friendship with him. It’s how you remember him before he started dating Jia, and all you can do is hope that it lasts.

In fact, his text was ‘good morning bighead, it’ll be nice to see you at jaem’s tonight.’

He’s clearly very eloquent.

Although, it did make you laugh. And respond back with how his head is much bigger than yours.

Your guard is still up. You don’t trust him. But it’s not like he can’t build that back by showing you he’s serious. As much as you hate to admit it, your hopes are up as high as the steel wall he’s pulling down piece by piece.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you tell Jaemin, who gives you a thumbs up and delves into a conversation with Haechan. Something about global warming, but you don’t stay around long enough to hear the entirety of it.

Once you return, you notice the extra person. Chenle arrived while you were in the kitchen, and the pain in your chest at seeing him is miniscule. You want him in all the ways you had him—more, even—but you know it’s best for both of you to work your way up. After all, he could still be lying. But seeing him alone and not with Jia also adds to your hopes—maybe he’s being serious. Maybe people can change, and you should give him the benefit of the doubt.

You make a bold move, a show of faith, perhaps, when you go sit down next to Chenle. There’s a decent amount of space between you two, but you don’t miss the way his smile widens.

The night rages on around you, but you’re acutely aware of the way Chenle gets a little closer to you with every drink one of you goes to get, and eventually, you’re laughing together while making fun of Jisung.

Everything is as it should be, and everytime Chenle’s not looking right at you, you’re smiling in his direction, knowing this is who he should’ve been all along.

11:32 p.m., September 17th, 2023, your apartment

“And then, Haechan said Mark and Jia are actually dating now.” Chenle’s voice travels through your phone resting on your chest while you stare up at the ceiling.

Without meaning to, you let out a laugh. “I mean, maybe it’ll work for them. They both deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He’s silent for a moment. “You, too, you know. You deserve to be happy.”

“Everyone does,” you reply. “Sometimes, good people do bad things, Le. I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

There’s shuffling on his end, like he’s settling in his blanket. “I’m glad to hear that. We haven’t really…talked about that much lately. It’s not a bad thing, ‘cause it’s probably best to shelve the past for now, but if you want to say anything to me, you don’t have to hold back.”

You contemplate. There are thousands of things you could tell Chenle right at this moment. You could tell him you’ve always loved him, too, or you could tell him how hurt you were. How he tore you up from the inside out and gave you no room to breathe. He infiltrated everything you had and turned it into his own personal playground.

God, you should be mad at him. You should hate him and hang up right now, but you won’t.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “I missed you, too. When you were gone. I’m glad you forced your way into my house with pizza to tell me everything. You were right, I was blaming myself for it.”

“Don’t ever blame yourself for my dumbass actions. I won’t lie to you, not anymore. Um, is it…okay if I ask you something?”

You frown, wondering if it’s a good idea. “Sure.”

“Did you ever feel more for me than friendship? Like when we were hooking up, did you mean all the things you’ve said to me?” He clears his throat, the tone of his voice clearly portraying his embarrassment.

“I’ve never lied to you,” you return, face heating up.

“Next time I see you, is it okay if I hug you?” Chenle whispers. “I miss you.”

“Yeah, I think that’s okay.” A tiny smile forms.

“Okay. I…I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon. Goodnight, Chenle.”

10:23 p.m., September 25th, 2023, Jisung’s house

You, Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin decided it’d be a good night to get together and watch a movie. Jisung has a theater room, so the four of you rest in there. You sit between Jaemin and Chenle, and you quietly let them know you’ll be back in a few minutes.

You go into Jisung’s fridge to grab a water bottle.

“Don’t you have a drink in there?” Jisung’s voice startles you, and you let out a gasp.

“Christ, Sungs, don’t sneak up on me like that.” You smack your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know that’s how you put people in cardiac arrest?”

“Dramatic.” Jisung snorts and grabs a bag of candy from a cupboard. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. It’s been a while since I got to talk to you, and I’ve noticed you and Chenle are friends again.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You grab a piece of chocolate and unwrap it before putting it in your mouth.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re your friends, too.”

“Look, I’m not sure how much you know about what happened, but that’s all over. Chenle and I…started over. And we’re friends, and I’d very much like to keep it that way.” You sip your water to wash down your candy.

“Be honest, do you just want to be his friend?” Jisung raises an eyebrow at you.

You laugh. “That’s not really something you should be asking me.”

“I know him, okay? I’m trying to look out for you—”

“I appreciate it, Ji, but I also happen to know Chenle. When a man like him begs for forgiveness on his hands and knees, you give him a shot. I’m not dumb, and I know what that whole situation made me look like, but I never would’ve done anything to hurt Chenle’s relationship when he was in one.” You shift on your feet.

“He just won’t tell us what’s going on, and Mark and Jia aren’t your biggest fan—”

“Jisung, what the hell?” Chenle leans on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing?”

You recognize this tone of his, and you immediately look at him and shake your head. “It’s not a big deal, Chenle, he’s just—”

“No, it is a big deal. Is this why you invited us here?” He frowns at the younger man. “You thought if you couldn’t get answers out of me, you’d get answers from her?”

“Hey, man, it’s not like that.” Jisung holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just curious.”

“You really wanna know that bad?” Chenle steps in, planting his palms on the countertop.

“It’s really okay,” you whisper to him, going as far as to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“Yeah, I do. Because right now it looks like some girl is tearing apart our friend group.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t care what they think.” You tug him gently, but he doesn’t look at you.

“It was me. I screwed everything up. (Y/N) and I were hooking up for over a year before I met Jia. And when Jia and I started dating, we obviously stopped that. But when she broke up with me, it was because I still had all of the conversations with (Y/N), and she was pissed about it. That night, I went to (Y/N)’s house and we slept together, and I lied to Jia again. Everything that went wrong was my fault, Jisung. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Jisung blinks in shock, lips parting as he glances between the two of you. You stare down at your feet, trying not to let the way he defended you seep beneath your skin. Chenle still has a lot of work to do, but you won’t lie and say it didn’t give him some brownie points.

“So why was she with Mark?”

“After I slept with her, I left the next morning when Jia called me. And then Jia asked me to block her, and I did. So all she was doing was honestly trying to forget about me, which is still her best bet.”

Your throat dries as the memories resurface, but even now, you see the difference. The Chenle who walked out on you never would’ve admitted that to another soul. He’s taking the fall. He’s taking accountability for his actions.

“Everything would’ve been fine if I hadn’t stormed up after them at Jaemin’s party. But I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone else there knew it, too.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry for assuming.” Jisung chews the inside of his cheek. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, Sungs.” You give him a small smile, but Chenle’s hand slides into yours, and the way he intertwines your fingers has your heart skipping.

“Let’s get out of here,” Chenle mutters. “I’ll drop you off at home.”

You nod once at Jisung and allow the other man to pull you out of his house. The car ride is mostly silent, the soft hum of music distracting you from the way Chenle still grips your hand over the center console. You catch a glimpse of him, the street lights reflecting off his skin as they pass.

God, all you want to do is love him. You want to throw caution to the fucking wind and tell him the truth. Allow him to hold you close and feel the warmth of his embrace.

He pulls up outside your building, looking at you with a soft, tired gleam in his pretty brown eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” he says. “Jisung shouldn’t ever have done something like that.”

“It’s okay. And not your fault. I’m aware of what the situation looks like to everyone else, but it’s not their business. Thank you for standing up for me.” You squeeze him gently.

“I’ll do it for as long as you let me,” he whispers.

In your tired, vulnerable state, the rest of that wall crashes to the ground.

“Come upstairs with me?” you ask. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I…” His eyes close and he rests his head back on the seat.

“I don’t mean it like that. I just want some company.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way. Please. But I can’t.” He forces the words out, palms running down his face. “I know you think you want that now, but I don’t want to risk you getting upset about it later. And part of proving myself is knowing when a decision will hurt you. I don’t trust either of us when it comes to being alone together in a room. Your bedroom especially.”

It stings, sure, but you know he’s right. Old habits die hard, and as soon as he’s in your bed, all bets are off.

You inhale shakily. “Right. Of course.”

“I want to.” His finger guides your chin up until you’re looking at him. He smiles softly. “I’ve missed you so much that I want to be with you all the time. But that’ll come with time when I know you really trust me fully.”

You lean across the center of the car and press your lips to his cheek, lingering for a second too long before pulling away and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Thank you, Le.”

He nods, watching you closely as you get out and head toward your building. You look over your shoulder once before entering.

His fingers trace over his skin where your lips just were, and relief has his chest deflating.

10:34 a.m., October 14th, 2023, a local coffee shop

Chenle sets a cup down in front of you before sitting down in the booth, resting his head on his palm. You type away on your computer, occasionally glancing up to him to see if he looks bored yet. He seems perfectly content, swirling his own drink around.

“So, what’s that for again?” he asks.

“Just a last minute report I’m typing out for work,” you reply absentmindedly. “Sorry, I’m almost done.”

“I’m not in any rush.” He chuckles and leans back.

You spend nearly every day with Chenle. The two of you have even graduated to spending time alone away from your other friends, and you love how much it feels exactly how it used to. The Chenle that left you has thankfully disappeared into the abyss, and your friend has come back. You two text every day, he buys you coffee, he teases you whenever he deems necessary.

As soon as you finish your report, you sigh in relief, save it, and close your laptop. “Thank you for the coffee. I definitely need it.”

“Anything that’ll give you enough energy for Jaemin’s Halloween party. What are you dressing up as?” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I still think we should coordinate.”

“I’m not telling you what I’m going as.” You stick out your tongue at him. “You’ll live.”

“Well, Jaemin wants me there early to help set up or whatever, so I will unfortunately just have to see you there.”

“Oh, that’s okay. The goal for tonight is to get as drunk as possible without blacking out.” You grin at him, to which he responds with a quirked eyebrow.

“Calm down there, bighead, you might hurt yourself.”

“Look on the brightside, if I get myself hurt, you get to swoop in and be my hero. Isn’t that exciting?” Despite the sarcastic drawl in your voice, Chenle shrugs.

“I’m supposed to save you from getting hurt, not just help you after the fact.” His phone starts ringing in his jacket, and once he grabs it, he groans. “Yeah, Jaemin?”

There’s a muffled sound from the device that has you laughing at the frantic yelling Jaemin is doing.

“It’s not even eleven yet,” Chenle points out. “I know I said I would help, but I didn’t think that meant twelve hours before the damn party starts.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “You should go!”

He glares at you and mouths, ‘not helping.’

After a few more garbled words, Chenle rolls his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes. You owe me, dude.” He hangs up the phone and gives you a guilty look.

“None of that.” You wave him off. “I need to get home anyway and take my daily rest.”

He snorts. “Alright. Come find me later, alright?”

“Well, duh. Who else is going to stop drunk me from making a fool of myself?”

12:54 a.m., October 15th, 2023, Jaemin’s house

The world spins around you, but the happiness you feel is unrivaled. You and Chenle dance together, where he twirls you in circles despite the beat not matching. He dressed up fairly simply, some dude that wears a trench coat and an odd looking hat, but for the life of you, you can’t remember the damn name.

You barely even recall what you’re dressed up as, but it’s something with a plaid-like skirt and a white top. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Not until you’re climbing up on the pool table for nostalgia’s sake, and Chenle’s practically begging you to come down.

“Your skirt is a little too short.” Chenle stands in front of you while you continue to dance.

“It’s Halloween, Chenle,” you remind him.

“In the nicest way possible, your costume isn’t exactly modest—why wouldn’t you put shorts on under that—”

The more you ignore him, the more he’s determined to get you to listen. He eventually climbs up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your eyes are stuck on his lips, but your vision is blurring a bit too much to tell if they look as good as you think they do.

You miss him. He’s touching you, the warmth of his body ironically freezing yours in its place.

“C’mon, get down.”

“I think you should get down on your—” The world swaying cuts you off, and despite his grip on you, you stumble.

He waves someone else over, and you recognize Luigi. You shake your head and blink, realizing that it’s actually Jaemin dressed up as Luigi. Giggling, you basically drop your head on Chenle’s chest.

“I thought he was really Luigi.” You laugh and smack his arm as if that’ll ground you.

Jaemin and Chenle are talking to each other, but you’re too invested in the way Chenle’s lips look when they move to care all that much on the topic. You allow Chenle to lead you to the edge of the table, and with Jaemin’s help, you’re back safely on the ground.

“I’m taking you home.” Chenle’s lips brush against your ear as he keeps his arm around you and guides you toward the door. The sensation sends a chill down your spine, and you know he feels it through where his fingers are splayed out along the small of your back.

Everything happens in a blur—getting into his car, him driving to your apartment, him bringing you upstairs from the car. By the time you’re home, you suddenly understand exactly what Chenle said about being alone with him in your apartment.

He looks divine. Angelic. And you’re weak, needy, and drunk.

“Lele,” you murmur, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom. “Help me take my makeup off.”

He follows you in. You know he’s weak for you, too. That it’s been so long since either of you have gotten any sort of satisfaction. You crave his touch, and the alcohol raging in your system does little to help with your inhibitions.

You bend over to grab your makeup wipes from beneath the sink, and you hear him shuffle behind you. Without another thought, you slide yourself on the counter and grab at his tie, tugging him close until he’s between your legs and pressing into you just enough to drive you crazy.

“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes dark as he takes in the situation. Your skirt riding up your thighs as you pull him closer, a short glimpse of the red lace beneath the skirt. You spread your legs a bit farther, craving to feel him right up on your lace-clad entrance.

“You have to get close to take makeup off,” you reply, giggling to yourself.

His jaw tightens, but he starts cleaning you up anyway, ignoring the way you periodically shuffle closer to the edge of the counter. When he’s almost done, you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your hips up.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, dropping what was in his hands. “(Y/N), let me finish taking your makeup off.”

You roll up once more, a soft groan leaving your lips. His hands dart down and push your thighs into the counter, halting your movements.

“C’mon,” you mumble, dropping your head against the mirror. “We both want it. You’ve been good, Lele, and I need you.”

Oh, Sober You was going to regret this. Sober You was going to kick your ass when the morning came, because you knew there’s no way Chenle’s not going to give in. The two of you are too addicted to each other not to.

He drops his head on your shoulder. “Baby, you’re drunk.”

“Please,” you whisper. “It’s been so long.”

“And we can wait a little longer,” he mentions, pushing your legs away from his waist. “Finish taking off your makeup. I’ll get you some clothes to change into.”

You groan when he disappears out of the room, but you listen to what he says. As much as your drunk mind allows you, you wash your face. When you get back to your room, he’s in a drawer you almost forgot was there. Stuff he’d left at your place, all stuffed into one tiny section of your dresser.

“C’mere,” he says to you.

You stop in front of him, the edges of your vision still blurred as you put your hand on his chest. Beneath your palm is an erratic thumping, and you know how much inner turmoil he’s dealing with.

“Chenle,” you murmur. “Help me.”

“Okay, I’ll help. Don’t move.” He untucks your shirt from your skirt, trying his best to avoid skin-to-skin contact with you. Pulling it over your head, he avoids looking down.

He reaches over for the shirt he took out of the drawer, but you grab his wrists, leading both of his hands down to your skirt.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m gonna tie you up in a very non-sexy way.”

You giggle, wavering a bit on your feet. “Just wanted you to see what I wore for you.”

“(Y/N), I don’t want to leave you like this but I can’t stay if you keep this up. I want you so fucking bad, but I refuse to do this while you’re this drunk.” He shakes his head. “Please.”

“We’ve had drunk sex,” you defend.

“Two things were different then, too. You actually wanted me while you were sober, and we were both equally drunk. I’ve barely had anything to drink.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “Let me get you dressed so you can get some rest.”

“I do want you when I’m sober,” you continue defiantly.

“(Y/N), I’m not going to argue about this—”

“No, no.” You grab the shirt from him and put it on, almost smiling at the familiarity of wearing his clothes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, but everything is so confusing.”

“Confusing how?” The guilty look in his eye tells you he already has an idea.

Great. Here comes the part of the night where you cry violently.

Tears well up, and you sniffle. “You hurt me so badly.”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“And a part of me knows that.” You’re sure your words are slurred, but he grips onto them like they’re his lifeline. You grip onto his stupid trench coat. “I want to believe it, but I’m so scared it’s gonna happen again, and then all of this is really over. I fucking love you, damn it.”

“I hope you know I love you, too.” His gaze glistens as he furrows his brows. “I’m gonna work so hard to be everything you need. Promise, I’ll never stop trying to be better for you.”

“How do I believe that?” Your voice breaks, and a tear falls down his cheek.

“I…I don’t know. Just let me continue to prove myself. That’s all I ask. We’ll stay just like this until you’re ready.”

You shake him, or try to, in your drunken state while you cry. “Why do I love you? It’d be easier if I didn’t.”

He wraps his arms around you and tugs you to his chest, heart pounding in his chest. For the second time, you break down. For the second time, you’ve put yourself in a position to give him the upper hand.

But for the second time, he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to you, stroking the back of your head. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“What if I’m never ready?” You rock back and forth in his grasp.

“Then I’ll wait forever. I promise you. No matter how you want me in your life, I’ll be there.” He kisses the top of your head, attempting to calm his own breathing. “Baby, you’re drunk. Let’s get you in bed so you can rest.”

“Don’t leave me,” you mutter, holding him tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere. C’mon.”

You listen to him, but before you get beneath your blankets, you slide your skirt down your legs. Once you’re comfortable, he grabs some more clothes for him to change into, and then he’s climbing in next to you, pulling you flush to him and kissing your head again.

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”

‘Forever’ is the last thought on your mind before sleep takes over.

11:48 a.m., October 15th, 2023, your bedroom

The first thing you note when you wake up is the splitting headache raging on in your brain. Next, is the warmth of another body half-draped over you. At the sound of your groan, Chenle shifts back a bit.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“No.”

He chuckles. “Alright, well let me know when you’re ready to get up.” He pulls you closer again, allowing you to relax against his chest.

“Wait.” You pause. “How long have you been up?”

“Uh.” He ponders on it for a moment, fingers tapping on your back. “I don’t know. Maybe two hours. Or three.”

“You haven’t gotten up yet?” You frown, pushing away from him to force yourself to sit up. Immediately, you groan and smack your hand to your forehead.

“Not sure if you remember much from last night, but I figured it’d probably be worse for you to wake up without me than with me, so I just waited.” He rests his head on his palm, tilting a bit to look at you.

As soon as he mentions it, you curse yourself a thousand times over. You really fucked up, but he’s still here.

“I’m so sorry.” You cringe. “Everything yesterday was so…”

“Don’t be sorry. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. And it felt like we had a breakthrough last night, so there’s that.” He grabs your hand, thumb rubbing against your skin. “I told you I’d do whatever it takes and I meant it.”

He meant it.

Unintentionally, you’d given him the biggest test thus far, and he passed with flying colors. He even waited for you to wake up for hours so you wouldn’t be confused or upset by his absence.

“I’m ready.” Your words surprise him, his eyebrows furrowing deeply as he scans over you.

“You…”

“For more. I’m ready for more, Chenle. I want us to be more than friends.” You fidget with your hands. “We’ve always been more than that.”

“And you promise you’re not still drunk?”

You scoff and push his shoulder. “Way to ruin the moment, dick.”

“There she is.” He grins.

“I still want to take it slow,” you clarify. “But I want to try.”

“Is it too fast if I kiss you?” he asks.

You’ve kissed this man thousands of times, but something about his question still makes you blush.

“I think you’ve probably earned it after your torture session last night.” Your headache is long since forgotten when he playfully tugs you to him.

Both of you laugh until he grabs your face and presses his lips to yours. He moves so you’re flat on the mattress, his upper half leaning over you. You melt into his kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling it ever so slightly. His breath shudders, and you feel the urge to push further, to tell him nothing is too fast anymore.

He pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m taking you on a date. Go get ready.”

You go to get up, but halfway through the motion, he tugs you back to him to kiss you one more time. His mouth works gently on yours, and after a few seconds, he lets you go.

8:47 p.m., November 22nd, 2023, Chenle’s house

Chenle’s birthday party ended a little early, mostly of his own choice. You hadn’t planned on anything happening tonight between you two, but it’d been so long since you’d felt pure, absolute bliss just by being next to him. Every day you’ve spent with him has made you two closer. The trust you have for him has grown tremendously, and as soon as you make it back to his house, you shed your coat from your shoulders.

He grabs it from you, hanging it up before he wraps his arms around you. His eyes droop from the overactivity of the day, but it doesn’t erase the smile he has when he sees you. You press a quick kiss to his lips.

“This is the best birthday ever,” he says, hands resting on your hips. “I love you.”

“We still have a few hours of your birthday left. It could go horribly wrong, you know.”

“Yeah, I think it will if you don’t tell me you love me back right now.”

You laugh, shaking your head at him. “I do love you back.”

“Oh, good to know.” He nods, squeezing you.

“Kiss me like you mean it, bighead.”

“That’s my nickname for you, get your own.” He rolls his eyes, but abides by your request.

His lips meet yours, an automatic sigh escaping you as your back arches you closer to him. You hold onto him tightly, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip. He gladly grants you access, but it’s an instant battle for dominance between the two of you.

You barely even recognize him walking you backward until you're against the wall. With a gasp, you pull away from him, his face still centimeters from yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Don’t stop.”

His curse is muffled by your skin, but his grip tightens on you. He pulls you away from the wall, allowing his hands to venture down to your ass. You whine when he squeezes.

“This is a very bad joke if that’s what’s happening.” He nips your collarbone. “Are you sure?”

You move away from him, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind both of you, immediately pulling you back to him and meeting your mouth with his. The need radiating from him has your stomach doing backflips. You want him just as badly, and all you want to do is pleasure him.

“Lay down, baby.” He sits you down on the edge of the bed, guiding you until he’s kneeling in front of you.

“Chenle, what are you—”

He flips your skirt up, hands trailing along your thighs, skimming the hem of your lace panties.

“You smell so fucking good, baby. Let me taste it. Please.” His eyes flick up to yours, eyebrows raising.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Best fucking birthday meal ever.”

He waits for you to nod before he practically rips the fabric from your body. His head disappears beneath your skirt, and before you know it, his tongue nudges your clit. That’s the only warning you get before he really begins.

He licks up your entrance, lapping at it like a man starved. You haven’t been touched this way in months, and it takes all of your self control not to buck your hips up against his face. The sound of your wetness fills the room, the heat making you squirm beneath him. Your skirt covers him, when all you want to do is see how much he’s enjoying himself. Fisting the sheets, you whine and cry out for him, rocking back and forth as he brings you closer and closer. Lewd sounds are muffled by the clothing you still wear, the suction between your legs making you shake.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

The next thing you know, two of his fingers slide inside you, the movement quick and easy with the way your wetness slicks even the skin of your thighs.

“Gonna make you cum like this first.” He kisses your clit as he pumps his hand faster. “Then over and over again on my cock.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up and grinding on his tongue. He mirrors the sound with his lips on your core, and that’s what’s enough to finally push you over the edge. Thankfully, you’re not in an apartment right now, otherwise your neighbors would be getting a free show when you scream out his name as you finish.

You squirm under him, the only thing holding you down is the dig of his nails into your thighs. When he pulls away, his face shines with your arousal, and your insides clench down all over again. You’ve never wanted him inside you as much as you do right now, and you make it your mission to get him on the bed.

“God, pretty girl, I wanted our first time together to be sweet, but I’ve never wanted to fuck you this bad.” He pulls your shirt over your head, pushing you back until you’re flat on his mattress. He tugs your skirt down, grabbing handfuls of your breasts and squeezing.

“Me too.” You nod. “Just don’t stop.”

He pulls his shirt off, pushing his jeans and boxers down in one go before he climbs over you. Your mouths clash messily, his teeth bumping yours, but it does nothing except add to the aching need you have for him. When he situates himself between your legs, you wrap them around his waist and roll until you’re on top.

You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. He groans quietly, thrusting into your hand. You rub the tip along your entrance to gather your juices.

“I’m not gonna last long with you on top of me,” he admits.

“Funny that you think you’re only gonna cum once tonight.” You barely give him time to process your words before you sink down on him. Moaning, you take him slowly, relishing in the stretch of your walls.

“Fuck, look at you.” He scratches down your thighs.

You give yourself a moment to adjust once he’s fully sheathed in your hole, moving your hands up to squeeze your breasts and tweak your nipples as you grind down. Sounds spill past your lips, and you almost get lost in your own pleasure. When you see Chenle, his eyes are barely open, dark with lust as he thrusts up.

Your walls throb around him, squeezing his cock so hard you feel the way he pulses inside you. Arching your back and resting your palms on his thighs, you start moving on top of him.

“So wet,” he whispers. “You’re soaking me.”

You move faster, the sounds of your arousal emanating around the room. Chenle’s hands find your breasts, flicking your nipples much like you’d done to yourself. Then he reaches between your legs, the arch of your body giving him perfect access to your clit.

“‘M gonna cum.” He drops his head back on the bed, thumb faltering against your sensitive bud. “Fuck, fuck.”

A loud moan escapes him, and the next thing you know, he’s coating your insides with his release.

“Damn it,” he whispers. “‘M sorry, baby, I tried to hold it back.”

You put your hands on his chest, rolling your hips until he groans from the overstimulation.

“It’s okay.” You grin at him. “It’s your birthday, Le. We can have as many rounds as you want. Plenty of time to redeem yourself.”

He chuckles breathlessly, sitting up to pull you into his embrace. Kissing all over your face, he rolls you over so you’re on your back before sliding out of you.

“You asked for this,” he reminds you. “Don’t forget that later when you’ve finished so many times you don’t even remember your name.”

He meant it, too.

9:18 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

The chill of the ice cube in his mouth trailing down your body, over your breasts, even the brief few seconds he presses it against your clit, has your body shuddering at the slightest touch. The melted water left behind has goosebumps forming on your skin as he worships your body.

Thin black fabric covers your eyes, leaving every touch of his a mystery to you. The coldness is a drastic contrast to the heat of your core, and the ice cube coming in contact almost has you yelping in pain. His fingers slide back inside you, and you swear you’re slowly losing your mind. You can’t stop moaning, each sound surely making him more than proud of himself.

It’s not long before you’re writhing beneath him all over again, your arousal pouring out over the sheets as he brings you to your euphoria.

9:28 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

“That’s it, pretty girl, take it all,” he hums as you take him in your mouth. You sit on your knees beside the bed where he sits, bobbing your head up and down with the assistance of the makeshift ponytail he grips in his fist.

He hisses as he pushes you down further until his cock is seated deep in your throat, the constriction of it making him bite his lip to stop the sounds. The steady pace he sets for you has tears forming in your eyes, the choking amplifying his pleasure.

“So, so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He tugs your hair to make you moan around him. “Taking me like a good girl. I love you, pretty.”

His eyes roll back, and he quickly pulls you off him, your hollowed cheeks making a popping sound.

“Lay down, baby,” he instructs you.

10:01 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

His chest slides against yours, low, quiet moans escaping both of you as he finally makes love to you like he wanted to in the first place. Your fingers are intertwined together as his hips meet yours over and over again, sweet words whispered in your ear.

He pushes in completely, his tip kissing your cervix, and a tiny yelp escapes your lips.

“You like when I’m so deep, don’t you?” He nips your ear. “You’ll never be empty again. Can fill you with my cock whenever you want.”

“Chenle,” you whimper, your mind cloudy from however many orgasms he’s given you. You’re much too sensitive, but you still don’t want it to stop.

Your body is caked with sweat, but his is worse. His hair clings to his forehead, wet strands not a deterrence to the way he keeps thrusting into your still sopping cunt. This is what heaven feels like—the pleasure delivered to you by Chenle is peak. You’ll never feel like this with anyone but him.

His finger rubs circles on your clit, and as you shatter around him, it brings him to his end as well, filling you up for the second time tonight. By the look in his eyes, you know it won’t be the last.

11:59 p.m., November 22nd, 2023

Your body aches, but the last thing you want is for him to stop. He holds you close to his chest despite the unbearable heat between you two, hips lazily moving as he grips onto your leg wrapped around his waist.

Your moans have turned into quiet sighs of pleasure, your insides melted into practically nothing with the amount of times he’s finished in you. Nothing matters anymore, just you and him and the way your bodies stick together.

His lips lock with yours, and his movements stop altogether as he gently kisses you. Eventually, that stops too, leaving his mouth resting on yours, as your tired gazes meet.

“I love you,” he whispers. “More than you know.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him, giving him one last kiss.

Exhaustion creeps upon both of you, too tired to move any further as you bury your head in his chest.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmurs.

“You already said that.”

“It got even better, so.”

Everything about this feels right. You curled up in his chest, and despite him still inside you, you’ve never felt more comfortable than you do right now.

And in the morning, Chenle wakes you up with kisses all over your face, and everything within the world is right.

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #chenle smut #chenle angst #chenle fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct fluff #nct angst

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burnednotburied · 15 days

Text

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Chapter 4 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

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You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

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

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way. She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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misc-obeyme · 9 months

Note

Hello!!!! Congratulations on your 1k followers, i love your writing!! Could I please request "I need to hear you say it" with Solomon?? It's OK if not, tysm!!! ✨

Hello, anon!! Thank you so much!!

Okay since the last Solomon request was so angsty, I really tried for some fluff with this one! I also have another one upcoming that I think is going to be angsty, so yeah I really wanted to try to fluff it up. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "I need to hear you say it."

Warnings: none!

It all started innocently enough. It was almost an inside joke at first. Solomon had made a witty remark about how your time was always monopolized by the demon brothers and that he would be happy just to get a letter from you. So you wrote him a letter - a brief four sentence message that you actually sent to Purgatory Hall through the Devildom mail.

And of course Solomon had written you back - sending you a letter four pages long.

This continued for some time, your letters getting longer and his getting shorter until you were both regularly writing page long letters to each other.

And at some point, the letters became something more. The two of you never talked about them. You never discussed their contents. So the letters became more and more about feelings, emotions that neither of you could speak out loud, either to each other or to anyone else. They started to hold things like your hopes and fears and dreams. Sometimes Solomon just wrote poetry and other times it was an idea for a new spell, but so frequently it was almost a confession. He would talk about things like his jealousy of the brothers, his experience of being immortal, his thoughts on the Devildom, his relationships with your mutual friends.

Your letters were similar, meeting the level of confidence that his letters seemed to indicate he had in you. You would talk about your feelings, share your personal thoughts, the things you didn’t speak to anyone.

When you became Solomon’s apprentice, the letters would sometimes refer to real life events. Solomon would tell you how proud he was of you mastering a complicated spell recently. He would write you letters of encouragement when you were struggling to get a potion just right. Sometimes he would tell you about what it meant to be a sorcerer and how it had affected his life.

You would respond with your doubts about your abilities, your happiness at having figured out something complicated, your gratitude that he was your teacher. You spoke about how patient and kind he was. That it was because of him that you were as powerful as you were.

And then one day you realized that the person you were in those letters was not the same person you were when you were actually with Solomon. The letter writer was more open, more vulnerable, capable of saying things to him that you could never dream of saying to his face.

But Solomon was different. You never got the sense that he was holding back when he was actually with you. Although he never alluded to anything he had written in his letters, he had spoken to you about similar things.

You paid more attention when you were with him. And inevitably your letters became more brief.

You couldn’t deny the pounding of your heart. You couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes. You could not even begin to express to yourself or anyone else how seeing his smile was the same as basking in the afternoon sun. How Solomon had become something so much more than a teacher and a friend. How his words, the ones he wrote and the ones he said, became the narrative of your heart. How each one made every nerve within you sing.

There was something about this man that made him different from everyone else in your life. Something about every single thing he did that caused you to feel more than you should. The fire that ran through your veins any time he touched you. The goosebumps you would get from the sound of his voice.

You couldn’t hope to be honest. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn’t-

But if you didn’t-

You wrote him a letter. It was only a single sentence. It was the one thing you wanted to say, but that you just couldn’t manage.

You were so scared to send it. He could easily pretend he never got it, the way you both so often did. Never discussing the letters was part of their charm.

When you finally sent it, you spent your time forcing yourself to think about anything else.

A few days later, you were sitting in your favorite cafe, taking a break from everything with some coffee. You were alone because you needed some space to think.

You looked up when Solomon sat down across from you. He placed the piece of paper with your single sentence face up on the table in front of you. You looked at it and then you looked up at his face. The serious expression there made your stomach drop.

“I need to hear you say it,” Solomon said. His voice was quiet, but intense.

You stared at him for a moment, at a loss. Could you even say those words? You had written them because they couldn’t be said. You couldn’t even speak them to yourself, let alone to him. He had to know that.

You thought about saying something else. About explaining why you couldn’t say it.

But then you looked into his eyes again. And what you saw there revealed something that Solomon had never told you, either verbally or in written form. He was scared, too.

You saw your own fear and uncertainty reflected back at you. That was how you recognized it for what it was.

The truth was that you had two relationships with Solomon. The one where you talked to each other, spent time together, went to school and learned magic together. And the one where you wrote to each other. Your written selves had gone on ahead and reached a place your other selves weren’t ready for.

But now you saw the opportunity to entwine those selves, to let each piece of you be known fully to each other.

You put your coffee aside. You reached across the table to take both of his hands. The paper with your words sat between your arms. You looked across it to meet his eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

You watched as the fear you had seen morphed into a tentative relief. As though he wasn’t sure if this was real.

“MC…”

“It's just that we never talked about the letters,” you said. “And I wasn’t sure if you…”

You were looking down at your message now, unable to maintain eye contact.

You felt him squeeze your hands. When you looked back up, he had a fond smile on his face.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Solomon said gently. “That I couldn’t read between the lines of every letter you sent? I tried to make it clear to you. I tried to write things that would give me away. I was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, I thought I must have been the one who misunderstood. I thought I had been reading a truth in your words that wasn’t actually there.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Solomon chuckled and squeezed your hands again. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to know that I wasn’t wrong after all. Because you wrote me something I couldn’t possibly misunderstand. And I hope it’s clear to you by now that I’m in love with you, too. I’ve been in love with you ever since you wrote me that first short letter so long ago.”

You sighed, flustered by this, annoyed with yourself for not understanding sooner. You let go of Solomon’s hands and stood up from the table, grabbing the coffee and tossing it in the trash on your way out.

Solomon came after you instantly, grabbing your hand as you started down the street.

“MC?” he said, the fear and uncertainty back in his expression. It nearly broke your heart.

"I'm sorry, Solomon," you said. "I just… I'm just…"

You didn't know how to say that you were feeling overwhelmed. That his words meant more to you than anything he had ever said or written before. Could he really have been in love with you for that long?

Solomon somehow seemed to understand you in that moment. He tugged on your hand, making you take several steps toward him so he could wrap his arms around you.

You returned the embrace, your bodies fitting together perfectly like little puzzle pieces.

"I didn't know how to say it," you said quietly. "Because I'd been writing it between the lines for so long."

"You knew exactly what to say," Solomon said, his volume matching yours. "You said it, didn't you? You said it because I asked. I wasn't sure you would."

You sighed. "Honestly? I'll probably do anything you ask."

Solomon looked at you and the twinkle of mischief in his eyes made you regret saying that. "Oh? In that case… will you kiss me, MC?"

A heartbeat passed between you, a single moment where you processed his words.

And then you kissed him.

All of your previous concerns fell away. The feelings were just as intense as they had always been, but the second your lips met, everything simply felt right. You were filled with the warmth of him, the sunshine that always seemed to come out of nowhere to hold you sweetly whenever he smiled. Solomon was the brightness that guided you through every day, no matter how dark things became.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #misc 1k event #misc writes

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cosmitton · 4 months

Text

there’s something magical about a convenience store

Johan Seong X F!Reader (foreigner)

A/N: This is a continuation of my previous Johan story with the same foreign Reader. Again, this one isn’t really romantic since I don’t think Johan would be romantic quickly with someone but it’ll head that way at some point lol. I think this series will be out of order after this so at some points they’ll be further along in their relationships than in others. Also, Danny is in this one and if I’m correct, Johan hadn’t met Daniel in his original body until the more recent chapters, and this again takes place a little after the God Dogs abandoned Johan (I think that was around the 200s chapters?)

Once again, I hope you enjoy and please let me know if anyone’s OOC or anything I need to improve. Thank you! c:

Warnings: None

Summary: You see the boy from the restaurant again, this time outside of the convenience store that your friend works at. You’re determined to at least get his name this time.

“Oh, hello!”

You look up toward the counter of the convenience store as you enter, smiling at your schoolmate’s roommate where he stands behind the counter.

“Hey, Danny!”

You immediately forget what you were coming here for in the first place, walking up to the counter instead. You always liked Danny since you met him a few months ago when he first moved to Seoul. The convenience store wasn’t too far from your place, and apparently, he and Daniel didn’t live too far away from you, either. Those two were some of the only people not to judge you when they first met you. Despite the fact that you had lived in Korea for longer than you had lived in your birth country, you were still treated as an outsider. The reasons might be different for you and Danny, but the result was the same – neither of you were treated the same as everyone else was.

“How was work?” He smiles up at you, his classwork for online schooling still spread out on the counter.

“Oh, same as always. I have some leftovers for you.” You reach into your bag for some of the food Mr. Terrence gave to you.

“O-oh, no, that’s okay!” Danny waves his hands, trying to deny the gift.

“I wonder why you still try to deny it when you know it never works.” You laugh, placing the container on the counter for him.

He laughs slightly, accepting the gift with a slight bow, “thank you, again.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The movement of a person outside of the window catches your eye, and you glance for just a moment before looking away. Then you realize you recognize that person. The brunette boy with the dogs!

“Oh, sorry, hold that thought, Danny! I just saw someone I know!” You race to the door before he can reply.

Once you’re outside, you see that Eden and Miro are with him again. “Hey, dog guy!”

The brunette turns around, eyes widened slightly and you realize you might’ve been a bit too excited and yelled too loud. You laugh slightly in embarrassment, stepping a bit closer to where he stopped on the sidewalk. Miro recognizes you, running up to your legs with her tail wagging, sniffing at your shoes. You kneel down to pet her, smiling as she nips at your fingers, before looking back up at the boy. He’s still standing a bit away, Eden shivering again at his side.

“It’s been a little while, huh?”

The boy doesn’t respond, just watches you with Miro. You figure he’s just the quiet type, but you’re determined to get at least one thing from him. You reach into your bag, pulling out the new bag of dog treats you had gotten since last time. You feed Miro first, the boy still watching you silently, then you rise to stand. Searching through your bag again, you pull out the other box of leftovers, stepping forward to hand it to the boy. (Technically, this was supposed to be yours to bring home, but this is an opportunity you don’t want to miss.) He eyes you suspiciously once again.

“Did you like the last one? Have another.”

He’s quiet for a moment, before he frowns at you, “why are you doing this? I’m not a charity case.”

“I know,” you shrug, “but I’m not doing this for free. It’s a trade.”

He shifts slightly, as if preparing for you to try something, “trade for what?”

“Your name. I didn’t get it last time, but if you tell me now, I’ll give you this food and we’ll be even.”

“Why do you need to know my name?”

“I don’t need to. I want to know it. This is the second time we’ve met, it only seems right. Besides, it’s not that serious, is it? A name for good food? Seems like a good deal to me.”

He watches you like he always seems to do, always prepared with the expectation of some kind of cruelty. You can’t blame him. You obviously don’t know what he’s been through, but you can guess at some of it just from experience – both in your own life and through people you’ve met before. Finally, he steps forward and takes the box from your hand.

“Johan.”

Only a first name, but it’s better than nothing. You don’t really need his last name, anyway – it isn’t important and you’re not going to push him for something so minor.

“Nice to meet you, Johan. Can I give some treats to Eden this time?”

Johan looks down at his other little friend, shivering as always, before looking back to you. He shrugs slightly, “fine.”

You approach slowly, kneeling down a little ways away. You hold out your hand, letting it hang in the air and waiting for Eden to approach you first. It takes him a moment, but he moves toward you cautiously and sniffs at your hand. You wait until he leans away again and pull out a few treats to rest in your palm as you hold it, flat, out toward him. He picks at the treats lightly, but he does take them all in the end. You feel a poke in your side and turn to see Miro again with her nose pressed against you, handing her a few treats as well. You look up at Johan and figure that you’re probably overstaying your welcome.

Rising to stand again, you turn to him, “well, nice seeing you again. I hope we meet again soon.”

He doesn’t respond, but you’re not really expecting anything different at this point. You say goodbye to the puppies, before turning and heading back into the convenience store. You notice that Danny is watching you, and you wonder if he was doing that for the entire interaction. You glance back out of the window to see Johan’s back as he leaves. When you turn back to Danny again, you notice that he looks perturbed.

“What?” You approach the counter.

“How do you know Johan Seong?” His voice is shaky, as if it’s weighed down by some important context that you’re lacking.

“Oh, you know him, too?”

“O-oh!” Danny stutters, raising his hands as if to wave the thought away, “no, not really. Daniel’s met him before, but I only know what he’s told me. I’ve only seen Johan in passing.”

“Hm,” you shrug lightly, smiling, “well, he’s just a new friend.”

#lookism x reader #johan seong x reader #lookism #seong yohan x reader #seong johan x reader #johan seong #seong yohan #lookism webtoon #my writing #seong johan

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soulofapatrick · 2 months

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Domesticated - Jace Herondale x Female (Daylighter) Reader

Summary: this is a 5 + 1 of all the times you and Jace act like a couple even before you admit feelings for each other

Words: 6k

Warnings: injury, bleeding, blood drinking

Y/N’s POV -

Part One

I’m not really sure when Jace appearing at random hours of the day in my apartment became a normal things. He’s dirty and covered in ichor from a demon hunt the Clave sent him and Alec on and he’s grumbling to himself as he shrugs off his leather jacket. There’s dried blood on him from wounds his iratze rune probably healed and he’s toeing off his shoes before grumbling more about the demons.

“I’m going to shower.” He tells me, voice gruff but there’s a softness to it as he addresses me.

“Alright Jace.” I respond, turning back to the show I was watching, waiting up for him to get back as it’s nearly 2am. Being a vampire is weird, especially a daylighter like Simon as at first I was nocturnal and now, suddenly, I’m back to daylight hours. It was weird getting used to humanity again but ever since Jace has been coming round it’s been easier somehow.

As I listen to the sound of the water running in the bathroom, I can’t help but think about how effortlessly Jace fits into my life. We’ve been…friends? Yeah, friends for so long, and lately, it feels like we’ve crossed some invisible line into something more. But whenever I’m around him, my heart would be pounding if it could still beat and there’s a stirring in my undead soul, a flutter of excitement I though I had long forgotten.

If it weren’t for Jace, I might have left the Shadowhunter world behind altogether, taken Magnus up on whisking me somewhere far away, maybe Canada, Clary and Simon, my own best friends, seem to have forgotten about me again, lost in their own adventures and relationship. And Luke, the only parental figure in my life, is more invested in his pack than checking up on me. But somehow, Jace always manages to find his way back to my doorstep, like a guiding light in the darkness.

I remember the first time he appeared on my doorstep, how he looked at me with those piercing golden eyes and saw something in me that no one else seemed to. He didn’t treat me like a monster or a freak because of what I had become, but instead, he saw me for who I truly am—a creature worthy of love and friendship.

And now, sitting here on the couch, waiting for him to remerge from the bathroom, I can’t help but wonder how the hell we ended up here in this weird dance and routine, so domesticated. One moment we’re battling demons and next, we’re lounging on the couch like a couple of teenagers on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Finally, after what feel like an eternity, Jace remerges from the bathroom, looking surprisingly innocent and boyish in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a graphic tee-shirt that I’m pretty sure is either mine or my brothers. His hair is still damp from the shower, tousled in a way that makes him look disarmingly handsome. Despite the exhaustion tech into his features, there’s a spark in his golden eyes that never fails to draw me in.

Jace collapses onto the couch beside me, his head finding its place on my shoulder, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. His weight against me is comforting, like an anchor tethering me to reality amidst the chaos of our lives. I close my eyes, revelling in the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breath against my skin.

As exhaustion finally catches up to him, his breathing evens out, lulling me into a sense of peace. I listen to the sound of his steady inhales and exhales, a gentle melody that soothes my restless mind. And as I drift off into sleep, I'm enveloped in the cocoon of his scent—sunshine and something uniquely Jace, mixed with the subtle fragrance of my shower products. It's a comforting aroma, one that fills me with a sense of belonging and contentment.

In the depths of slumber, I feel his warmth beside me, a constant presence that eases my fears and worries. But when I wake in the morning, he's gone, leaving behind only a hastily scrawled note on my coffee table. My heart sinks as I read his words, explaining that Alec called him in early for paperwork and debriefing on the previous day's hunt.

Despite the pang of disappointment at his absence, I can't help but smile at the thought of him, out there in the world, fighting alongside his fellow Shadowhunters. And as I rise to start the day, I carry with me the memory of his presence, the echo of his warmth lingering in the air like a promise of his return.

Part Two

I awake to a crashing and the grumbled cry of Jace, my panic immediately vanishing at the sound of his voice. My phone reads 7.03pm and I’m realising my nap was longer than I had planned or anticipated, having tried to stay awake for Jace who had messaged me to say he’d be home in time for dinner.

As I groggily process the situation, something within me stirs at the realisation Jace used the word “home” to describe my place. It’s a simple word, but coming from him, it carries a weight that sends a flutter through my un-beating heart. I push aside the covers and pull myself sleepy from bed, feeling the fabric of a shirt that definitely isn’t mine brush against my skin as it reaches mid-thigh.

Shuffling towards the kitchen, I’m met with the sight and smell of chaos. Jace is in the midst of a culinary disaster, his brow furrowed in frustration as he grumbles to himself. The scent of burning food fills the air, assaulting my sensitive vampire senses, But despite the mess and the mishap, there’s something oddly endearing about the scene—the way Jace is so determined to make dinner for us, even if it means nothing is going according to plan.

As I approach him, I can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his hir tousled and his expression a mix of annoyance and determination. Despite the chaos, there a sense of warmth and familiarity in the air, a feeling of him that I’ve come to associate with him.

I head straight for the fridge to grab fresh ingredients as soon as I get the gist of what he was trying to make by the minced meat and the spaghetti, catching the way he looks at me. There’s a softness in his gaze, a silent appreciation for my presence and the way I effortlessly step in to salvage the situation. But when I reach for the pasta sauce, Jace stops me, holding up a jar of red liquid.

My heart tries to burst out of my chest when I realise what it is. Jace wasn’t just trying to make dinner for us; he was trying to recreate a meal I loved as a human, altered for my now vampire self. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes about his thoughtfulness and the depth of his care for me.

“Raphael said it was the best of the best and told me how to prepare it so it doesn’t…” Jace waves his hands around trying to think of the word Raphael used, “Separate?”

I can’t help but laugh softly at the face Jace makes as he says the word ‘separate’. It’s moments like these that remind me of just how endearing he can be, even when he’s trying his best to navigate unfamiliar territory like helping a vampire like me.

Stepping closer to him, I wrap my arms around him in a hug, feeling the tension in his muscles as he hesitates before finally relaxing enough to return the embrace. His strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close as he buries his face in my hair. In the moment, with the scent of blood and spices lingering in the air and the warmth of Jace’s embrace surrounding me, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for the man standing in front of me.

Reluctantly, Jace finally lets me go, suggesting we try cooking again. As I try to assist him, he’s suddenly spinning me back to face and him and gripping my waist in his strong hands, lifting me and sitting me on a clean area of the counter top, “You’re to just sit there and look pretty while I work this out.” He says with a smirk, a hint of redness colouring his cheeks.

I can’t help but let out the most embarrassing giggle at his sudden shyness, feeling a warmth spread through me at his playfulness. As I watch him move around the pitch with practiced ease, a sense of contentment washes over me. Despite the chaos and mishaps, being here with Jace feels like home.

And as I sit on the counter, watching him cook, I cant’t help but feel grateful for moments like these—simple, ordinary, mundane moments that remind me of what I could have had when human. Surrounded by the warmth and aroma of our makeshift meal and Jace’s soft humming as he cooks, I know that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we have each other, we'll always find a way to make it through.

Part Three

The library is quiet as I slip inside, the familiar scent of old books and parchment greeting me like an old friend. Alec had given me permission to use the Institute as a safe haven whenever I like, and I often find myself wandering towards the library. It’s become my sanctuary, a place where I can escape the weird world I’m now a part of and lose myself in the pages of novels and histories.

As I roam the aisles, my fingers trailing along the spines of countless books, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. The library is a treasure trove of knowledge, and I’ve made it my mission to learn as much as I can about the Shadowhunter world. I immerse myself in the histories of the Clave, learning about the battles fought and the heroes who rose to prominence, the history of the main families in this world.

Eventually, I pick a book off the shelves, one that Alec had actually recommended to me during one of our conversations. It’s a thick volume filled with tales of Shadowhunter lore, and I can’t wait to delve into its pages. With a contented sigh, I sink into one of the soft loveseats scattered throughout the massive library, feeling eh weight of the book in my hands as I lose myself in the pages.

For the rest of the afternoon, I’m lost in a world of magic and mystery, my surroundings fading away as I become immersed in the story unfolding before me. The hours pass in a blur, but in the moment, surrounded by the knowledge and history of the Shadowhunters, I feel a sense of belonging and purpose that I’ve been searching for since the day I was turned.

My attention is momentarily drawn away from the pages of the book in my hand by the faint murmur of voices approaching. It takes a moment but I’m recognising the voices, the cadence of their speech familiar to me even from a distance with my new hearing abilities. But it’s the sound of the library door opening that truly captures my attention, and when I look up, my heart skips a beat at the sight of a familiar blonde figure standing in the doorway.

Jace.

His golden eyes scan the room, searching, until they land on me. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features in a way that never fails to make my heart flutter like it’s still beating, “There you are, Mouse,” He greets, using the stupid pet name he’s decided for me, “You weren’t at home.”

As he strides over, my attention is captivated by the way his muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his tight black shirt, each movement a testament to his strength and grace. My pulse would be skyrocketing if it could, and I can feel a flush from the recent blood I drank creeping its way up my neck as he stops in front of me, his presence commanding and magnetic.

“Hey Jace,” I manage to say, voice betraying the flutters of excitement I feel within me.

He smirks, golden eyes dancing with amusement as if he knows what he’s doing to me, “What were you doing here all alone?” He asks, tone teasing yet filled with genuine curiosity.

I just shrug, attempting to maintain an air of casualness despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, “Just needed the quiet.” I reply, my voice soft.

He nods in understanding, his expression softening as he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture sending a shiver down my spine, igniting a rush of sensations that I struggle to contain. His proximity, his touch—it's all too much, and yet not enough.

“Hey, listen,” He says, his voice warm and inviting, “We’re all heading to the Hunter’s Moon to hear Simon sing, You wanna join us?”

The thought of being surrounded by so many voices, sounds and smells—the overwhelming sensory overload—has me shuddering involuntarily. I feel a knot form in my stomach, a wave of anxiety washing over me at the mere thought of venturing out into the bustling world beyond the quiet of the Institute currently.

With a shaky breath, I shake my head almost aggressively, “No, I think I’ll pass.” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, “I’m… I’m not really in the mood for crowds tonight.”

Jace nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic, “Hey, that’s okay,” He reassures me, his voice gentle, and he’s surprising me by leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, “You do what feels right for you. But if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there.”

I offer him a weak smile, grateful for his understanding, “Thanks Sunshine.” I murmur, the weight of my anxiety slowly easing with his words of reassurance and his sweet actions.

As Jace turns to leave, I watch him go, feeling a sense of longing wash over me like a gentle tide. His departure leaves an ache in my chest, a yearning for something more, something I can't quite name. But then, I feel the lingering warmth of his kiss on my cheek, a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of electricity through me.

Despite my reluctance to join them, a part of me wishes I could be there, sharing in the camaraderie and laughter with Jace and the others. The thought of being by his side, laughing and joking like we always do, fills me with a bittersweet longing.

In the moment, as I sit alone in the quiet solitude of the library, the whole interaction feels strangely domesticated, as if it’s something we’ve done a thousand times before. Jace’s kiss was casual yet intimate, like it was a natural extension of our friendship, and yet it leaves me yearning for more.

I can’t help but replay the moment in my mind, the sensation of his lips against my cold skin, the warmth of his touch. It’s a memory I want to hold onto, to savour and cherish, and yet it only serves to deepen my desire for him.

As I sink back into the soft cushions of the loveseat, the ache in my chest lingers, a constant reminder of the feelings I can’t shake. I want him to kiss me again, to make me feel alive in a way I never thought possible. And as I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, I know that despite the risks and uncertainties, I can't deny the pull he has on my undead heart.

Part Four

I honestly have no idea how I ended up in the training room with Jace but I definitely know how I ended up on my ass glaring up at his laughing figure. Jace decided that he was going to teach me how to defend myself as Alec wants downworlders to help Shadowhunters on patrols to bridge the gap that had formed since Valentine.

So here I am, climbing to my feet and glaring at Jace who readies himself for another round and my body is already aching. Jace is already readying himself for another round, and I steel myself for the onslaught, determined to at least make him break a sweat. As he lunges at me, I use my vampire speed to dodge and jab him in the back with my elbow with precision. But before I can revel in the small victory, he’s already spinning around and swiping my feet out from underneath me again.

I hit the ground with a frustrated grunt, the air would have been knocked out of me if I were still breathing. I let out a sound of pure annoyance as I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling so goddamn angry that I haven’t managed to get Jace down once.

“Come on, Mouse,” Jace says, offering me a hand up, “You’re getting better, I promise.”

I take his hand and pull myself to my feet yet again, but the weight of defeat still hangs heavy on my shoulders. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to measure up to Jace's level of skill and agility. It's frustrating, disheartening even, to constantly fall short despite my best efforts.

With a heavy sigh, I get back into position, expecting Jace to do the same but instead a small gasp is drawn from me when I feel his body practically pressed to my back as he adjusts my positioning. I feel a rush of warmth as he nudges my feet into a better position and adjusts my arms, guiding them a little higher.

His touch is firm yet gentle, his hands moving with practiced precision as he adjusts my stance. And then, his hands fall to my hips, twisting them slightly to improve my balance before he steps back, satisfied with his work.

I’m left standing there, the lingering sensations of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. Despite the lack of a heartbeat or any physical sensations, I can’t deny the way he makes me feel. Safe. Protected. As if, just for a moment, the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders and I can simply be.

With a renewed determination, I square my shoulder and focus on the task at hand. As we being sparring again, I find myself moving with a newfound confidence, each strike more precise than the last. And then, miraculously, it happens—I actually manage to get Jace down for once.

I just watch in disbelief as he hits the ground, a surprised laugh escaping him as he looks up at me with sparkling eyes. In the moment, his laughter is like music to y ears, lighthearted. As Jace lies there, sprawled on the ground with a grin that could light up the room, I can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. His boyish charm and playful energy are infectious, making me forget for a moment that we're supposed to be training. But as he starts to rise, that cocky smirk forming on his lips, I know the challenge isn't over yet.

With a twinkle in his eyes, he beckons me forward, goading me to try again. His confidence is palpable, almost tangible in the air between us. And I, of course, take the bait, eager to prove myself once more.

But, as I unleash my vampire strength and speed, throwing my self into the spar with all I’ve got, I quickly realise that Jace has activated both runes, his agility now matching mine. His speed rune makes him a formidable opponent, dodging and waving with ease, always one step ahead.

In the blink of an eye, he’s behind me, sweeping my feet out from under me with a swift motion. I feel the ground rushing up to meet me, but my reflexes kick in instinctively. As I tumble backwards, I grab onto Jace’s shirt, pulling him down with me.

We land in a tangled heap, laughter bubbling up between us as we lie there, catching our breath. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the world around us fading away until it's just the two of us, tangled together on the ground. I can smell how sweet and like sunshine Jace’s blood smells in his veins and feel the way his heart is pounding as he buries his face in my neck.

And in the moment, I realise just how much I enjoy being with him, the easy camaraderie and undeniable chemistry between us, making me, again, realise just how domesticated we are with each other.

Part Five

The rain is coming down so hard it’s bordering on hail and as overwhelming as my senses are, the sound of it hitting the windows of my apartment is actually very comforting. Jace is in the shower again, coming back from another demon nest hunt and he’s told me he ordered pizzas on his way home as he invited the others around to jin us for the movie night before he jumped in the shower.

As grateful as I am for his presence, a flicker of anxiety creeps into my mind at the thought of the others joining us. Alec and Magnus have always been welcoming, their easygoing nature together putting me at ease from the start. But Simon and Clary, lost in their own bubble of love, often seem oblivious to anyone around them nowadays, especially me their childhood friend. And Izzy.. well, Izzy can get anyone she wants with a bat of her eyelashes has me a little jealous.

As I wait for Jace to emerge from the shower, the sound of the rain drumming against the window grows louder, echoing the turmoil of my thoughts. I find myself questioning whether I’ll be able to navigate the dynamics of the evening, whether I’ll be able to hold my own amidst the company of the Shadowhunters and Downworlders that make up Jace’s inner circle.

But then, as if sensing my apprehension, Jace appears, a towel draped casually around his waist and a smile lighting up his face. It’s as if time itself pauses for a moment, allowing me to drink in the sight before me. His presence is like a beacon of light in the dimly lit apartment, his golden eyes sparkling with warmth and mischief. With his damp hair tousled and his skin glistening with droplets of water, he looks every bit like an adonis, a vision of strength and beauty.

The towel draped casually around his waist hangs dangerously low, teasingly revealing the beginnings of his happy trail. My gaze is drawn to the tantalising glimpse of skin, the curve of his hips, the sculptured muscles of his abdomen. It's a sight that leaves me breathless, a reminder of just how effortlessly attractive he is.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates me; it's the way he carries himself, with a confidence that borders on arrogance yet somehow remains endearing. His smile is like a beacon of warmth, infectious and irresistible, drawing me closer with its magnetic pull.

As he moves closer, the scent of his shower gel fills the air, a heady mixture of musk and citrus that sends a shiver down my spine. I find myself mesmerised by the play of light and shadow on his skin, the way the droplets of water cling to his body like liquid diamonds. He brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek, his touch reassuring in its familiarity, a warmth spreading through me, soothing the lingering traces of anxiety that had gripped me moments before. His touch is a familiar reassurance, grounding me to the present moment and easing the flutter of my nonexistent heartbeat.

But before I can fully lose myself in the intimacy of the moment, a sharp knock at the door interrupts us, shattering the fragile bubble of privacy we’ve created. With a playful smack to Jace’s arm I stop him from heading to the door, “Go get some damn clothes on, I’ll answer it.” Before I’m striding over to answer the door, cheeks flushed with a heat that most likely betrays the intensity of my emotions.

As I swing the door open, Jace is ducking into our room and I’m met with the amused gazes of Alec and Magnus, their eyebrows raised in teasing curiosity. Magnus’ playful smirk hints at the mischief dancing in his eyes, while Alec's expression is a mix of amusement and affection.

Despite my embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable moment, I can't help but smile at the sight of them. Their presence is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the room and dispelling the tension that had threatened to linger.

Suppressing the urge to bury my burning cheeks in my hands, I offer them a sheepish grin, knowing they heard what I said through the door, hoping to deflect their teasing with a lighthearted remark. But as Magnus's eyebrow quirks suggestively, I know that my attempt at nonchalance has fallen short. So, with a sigh of resignation, I step aside to let them in, knowing that there's no use in trying to hide the flush that still colours my cheeks

As I step aside to let them in, Alec hands me a DVD with a knowing smile. I can’t help bit roll my eyes fondly at his choice—Dracula. It’s become somewhat of an inside joke between me and Jace so I just know Jace told him to bring it. But before I have a chance to protest, Magnus is interjecting, his tone unreadable as he tells me “I’m afraid the others won’t be joining us tonight,”

But Magnus’ words cut through the light-hearted banter, his tone carrying an unexpected weight as he informs me of the absence of our other friends. A pang of disappointment courses through me, a subtle ache in my chest as I realise that Clary and Simon won't be joining us tonight. They were more than just friends—they were my childhood companions, the ones who had been there through thick and thin. Their absence feels like a tangible loss, a reminder of how much our lives have changed since those carefree days of youth.

As I put the DVD in and get it ready, sinking into the couch with a heavy heart, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for the comfort of their presence. But I push aside those feelings, focusing instead on the company of Alec and Magnus, who have become like family to me in their own right.

I sink into the cushions, allowing Alec and Magnus to take the other couch as we wait for Jace to return with the pizzas. Despite the disappointment lingering in the air, there's a quiet camaraderie between us, a shared understanding that in times of need, we can always rely on each other.

As the anticipation of Jace's return hangs in the air, the sound of the door opening signals his arrival. He appears just in time to answer the door, a grin spreading across his face as he enters with pizzas in hand. The sight of him brings a flicker of warmth to my heart, dispelling the lingering disappointment of our missing friends.

Jace sets the pizzas down on the table with a flourish, his presence injecting a sense of energy into the room. With a casual ease, he joins us on the couch, seamlessly sliding in beside me. Without a second thought, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me snugly into his side. The gesture both comforting and familiar, a silent reassurance of his affection for me. I lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he adjusts the blanket to cover us both. It's a simple act, but it speaks volumes about the bond we share—a bond that transcends words and barriers, connecting us on a deeper level.

With the remote in hand, Jace settles back against the cushions, his gaze fixed on the screen as he starts the movie. As the opening credits roll, I feel a sense of contentment wash over me, grateful for the warmth of Jace's embrace and the company of friends who feel like family.

Despite the disappointments and challenges we may face, in this moment, surrounded by laughter and love, I know that we'll always have each other. And as we lose ourselves in the world of Dracula, I find solace in the simple pleasures of friendship and companionship, knowing that no matter what the future may hold, we'll face it together, as a team.

Plus One

I’m not really sure how it happened but one moment I’m walking home from a day at the coffee shop and the next I’m being thrown into a wall. A wave of disorientating pain washes over me, leaving me gasping for breath and struggling to make sense eo what just happened. My sense reel, the world spinning in a dizzying blur as I try to focus on what just hit me.

For a terrifying moment, I’m convinced that this is it—that I’m facing my end, torn to shreds by whatever unseen force assaulted me. Panic claws at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to consume me as I brace for the final blow.

But then, as suddenly as it began, the assault ceases, leaving me trembling and shaken in its wake, unable to heal as I’ve lost too much blood. Slowly, I stagger to my feet, the world still spinning around me as I struggle to regain my bearings.The realisation that I’ve lost too much blood to heal hits me like a physical blow, leaving me lightheaded and unsteady. Every step is a battle against the dizziness and weakness that threatens to overwhelm me, but I push forward with grim determination.

With each faltering step, the distance to the institute feels impossibly far, unable to use vampire speed without passing out. Panic sets in as I realise that Jace, my lifeline, is at the Institute today, and he hasn’t called to tell me he’s on his way home. Fear grips me like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs as I struggle to keep moving forwards.

The world around me blurs as I stumble out of the alleyway and into the desired streets. My vision swims, the darkness closing in around me as I fight to stay conscious. Each breath is a struggle, my lungs burning with exertion as I push my body beyond its limits.

Time loses all meaning as I continue to trudge forwards my footsteps echoing in the empty silence of the night. The Institute looms in the distance like a beacon of hope, its towering walls offering the promise of safety and sanctuary. But with each passing moment, it feels as though I'm slipping further and further away, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

Desperation claws at the edge of my consciousness as I force myself to keep moving, driven by the fear of what awaits me if I don’t reach the Institute in time. Every step is a battle against the darkness that threatens to engulf me, but I refuse to give up.

With every ounce of strength I can muster, I push myself forward, determination fuelling my movements as I draw upon the last reserves of energy within me. As I approach the looming doors of the Institute, desperation spurs me to action, and I unleash the full force of my vampire speed.

The doors fly open before me with a forceful momentum, swinging wide as if welcoming me home. But even as I breach the threshold, I trigger the wards surrounding the entrance, setting off alarms that echo through the empty halls. Before I can fully comprehend the situation, Jace appears before me, his weapon raised in a defensive stance. The sight of him, strong and unwavering, fills me with both relief and a sense of impending doom. I choke out his name, my voice barely a whisper as I struggle to remain upright.

My knees give way beneath me, threatening to send me crashing to the unforgiving tiles below. But in the blink of an eye, Jace is there, his arms wrapping around me with lightning speed, catching me before I can hit the ground. The seraph blade clatters to the floor, forgotten in the urgency of the moment as Jace sinks us to the floor, cradling me in his arms, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of fear. I reach out to him, my fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek, a silent plea for reassurance.

Despite my initial resistance, Jace's urgency is palpable, his wrist pressed insistently against my mouth as he pleads with me to drink. Fear courses through me as I shake my head, the thought of losing control terrifying me to the core. But as the scent of his blood fills my senses, a primal hunger takes hold, overpowering my rational thoughts. With a grip on my hair that borders on painful, Jace guides my mouth to the wound on his wrist, his other hand pressing against the back of my head. The taste of his blood is like nothing I've ever experienced before—warm and intoxicating, with a sweetness that rivals the warmth of the sun.

As I drink, the fog that had clouded my mind begins to lift, clarity returning with each swallow. Guilt washes over me in waves, but I can't bring myself to stop. Jace's blood is a lifeline, grounding me in the present moment and soothing the ache of my wounds. I feed until I can feel the worst of the wounds stopping bleeding, my tongue lapping at the skin on Jace’s wrist to seal it shut. The taste of his blood lingering on my lips, a bittersweet taste.

With a sigh of relief, I collapse against Jace's safe chest, my body trembling with exhaustion and relief. His touch is gentle yet firm, his hand cupping my jaw with a tenderness that tugs at my heartstrings. I feel his thumb under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his, and as I look into those golden eyes, I see the raw emotion reflected in their depths.

Tears glisten in his eyes, a silent testament to the fear and concern he's been harboring for me. His voice is soft as he checks if I'm okay, the sound of it like a soothing balm to my battered soul. In that moment, I realise just how much he cares, how deeply he feels, and the thought fills me with a warmth that transcends the physical.

As he leans down, his lips ghosting over mine with a hesitance that speaks volumes, I can feel the tension building between us, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air. My heart would be hammering in my chest, a rhythm that matches the erratic beat of his own. A small whine escapes my throat, a sound born of longing and need, and in that instant, his resolve crumbles. His lips crash against mine with a fervour that steals my breath away, a kiss so full of passion and intensity that it leaves me reeling.

In that moment, I feel alive in a way I never have before, as if every nerve in my body is on fire with the intensity of his touch. It's as if he's breathing life back into me with each caress of his lips, each touch igniting a fire that burns brighter than the sun.

“Maybe don’t almost die to act upon mutual feelings.” Jace is mumbling against my lips, earning a weak smack from me.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He retorts, kissing me softly once again.

“Later I will.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#Jace herondale #jace herondale #Jace herondale x reader #Jace herondale x you #Jace herondale x y/n #Jace herondale fluff #Jace herondale angst #Jace herondale smut #dominic sherwood #the mortal instruments #the mortal instruments one shots #Jace herondale one shots #Jace wayland #Jace wayland x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunters x reader #shadowhunters preferences #5+1 fic

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ode-to-fury · 4 months

Text

Was that Gale’s Grandad?

Summary: This line has been stuck in my head for months so here is whatever this is. Karlach pov. Based on my Tav but again it’s fairly vague so

Karlach watched with interest as the old man gestured at Gale, then at Tav, then into the air. She watched Gale heave a deep sigh, and Tav’s frown become deeper and deeper as the old guy talked. He had a damned good beard, if you asked Karlach. Obviously the news he had wasn’t the best, but… another day for the likes of them, huh?

She watched as Gale said something with a certain look on his face, a look Karlach thought she didn’t like. Seemed Tav didn’t quite like it either, cause soon she was frowning even harder, and obviously getting annoyed.

Gramps chose then to say his goodbyes and whoosh off into the afternoon.

Tav turned to Gale, frowning at him. An impressive frown, when it came to it. And Gale… Karlach winced when he said something with a determined expression on his face, gesturing decisively in front of him, and Tav threw up her hands.

Not great with women, was he?

Tav stalked off, straight toward the fire, and Karlach walked over too, not above a bit of gossip. Bonus points if she could find out the details before Shadowheart did.

“So…” she said, walking up to Tav’s side.

“Was that Gale’s grandad?”

Tav fixed her with a Look. She was damned good at those, too. Had the jaw for it, sort of square and hard. Karlach smiled, and pretended not to notice. It was a damned good Look, but you couldn’t beat the ones she’d seen in Avernus, unfortunately.

“Not exactly,” Tav grated out, somehow managing it between clenched teeth.

“That was Elminster Aumar,” she continued. “Come to tell Gale he needs to sacrifice himself for Mystra’s forgiveness.”

Karlach blinked.

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” Tav ran a hand through her hair, making the brown shimmer golden where it caught the light.

“Detonate the orb, kill this Absolute, Mystra deigns to forgive him.”

She spat into the fire, a thick gob that made Karlach proud, and a little sick.

Sacrifice himself for Mystra… gods, the poor man. He could be a bit of a twat sometimes, but she didn’t think exploding was a fair punishment for that. Being asked something like that by someone he trusted, someone he’d loved… if anyone could relate, Karlach could.

“Poor Gale…” she said, aware of Tav’s fists clenching in the corner of her eye, a muscle ticking in her jaw.

Karlach put a hand on her shoulder, grinning.

“I bet he could do with some cheering up. Oh! Oh! Tell him I haven’t read a book since secondary school and watch his face melt off!”

Karlach flashed an even bigger smile at Tav, but the other girl just frowned deeper, her lips a hard line.

“Go tell him yourself,” she said, and there was a deep sadness behind the bite in her voice. “I want nothing to do with him. Ever. Fair warning, though, he’s being insufferable about it.”

Karlach opened her mouth to respond, but at the glint in the younger girl’s eyes thought better of it. Instead, she let go of her shoulder, squared her own, and walked over to Gale with a practiced grin on her features.

He started slightly as she reached him where he was reading in front of his tent. Staring glumly at a page was a better description, though, since his eyes weren’t even moving across the page.

His eyes met hers, and the first thing she saw there was fear, before he mastered himself enough to smile.

“Karlach!” Deceptively cheery. Alright, she could do that. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

She stared for a second. Shit. Hadn’t thought this far ahead, had she?

“Help,” she blurted, then, when he raised an eyebrow expectantly, realised that wasn’t much better than no answer.

“Help… with… a book!” She said, smiling more out of appreciation for her quick thinking than anything else.

“I was wondering if you had one for me to read, since I haven’t picked one up since secondary school.” She shrugged.

“Figured it was time I picked up the old… ink… I suppose.”

Smooth, Karlach. Really smooth.

He stared at her for a moment, eyes wide.

“You haven’t…” he grimaced. “Please tell me that was an ill timed joke.”

She shrugged as innocently as she could manage.

“Wish I could, soldier.”

He sighed, fingers moving up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Weave help us all. Hold on a moment.”

He tried to stifle the groan as he got up to go through the books he had. The same way Tav did when she had to get up quickly. Karlach shook her head at the two of them.

Idiots.

As he was looking, she wondered what would be the best way to approach the topic, then settled on direct. The way she did everything in life.

“…So,” she started innocently, “You really thinking about going through with it, are you?”

He stilled, crouched over a pile of books.

“Ah,” he said, sitting back on his haunches. More athletic than she’d given him credit for, if she was being honest.

“I see. Tav put you up to this, did she?” He stood up from his knees with another stifled groan, and frowned up at her.

“Well, you can tell her I don’t need, nor do I want, any help making this decision.”

“Actually, she told me not to come over here. Said you might get…” she paused, trying to find the right word. “Touchy.”

“I’m not touchy!” He snapped at her.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, popped a hip, and he took a breath before continuing.

“I’m merely… irritated,” he said, sounding as much, “by the fact that everyone else seems to think they know what is best. That she seems to think she knows what is best.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the fire, then turned away from Karlach, toward the entrance to his tent.

“Why don’t you explain it to me, then?” She asked gently, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m your friend, Gale. If you really believe this is the best thing to do, then I want to hear about it! Why do you care so much about Mystra’s forgiveness?”

“Because… because magic is- it’s who I am!” He threw his hands in the air as he spun to face her again.

“My goddess gave me an order. Mystra gave me an order, and it is not my place to defy her.”

He took another deep breath, and his dark eyes seemed to look far away from their little camp in the mountains.

“I made a mistake, Karlach. I made a terrible, terrible mistake, and if my death is what it takes to make it right, then by the Weave I will do everything in my power to see it come to pass. If my death is all it takes to overthrow this Absolute then I have a moral duty to see it through.”

And he stood there, wrapped in self-righteousness and holy purpose with a lethal bomb in his chest, almost convincing himself that this suicide mission was really what he wanted, and Karlach couldn’t help but feel the biggest surge of pity for him. For both of them, if she was honest.

“Ugh,” she said, putting a hand on her hip as she studied him. “Wizards.”

He blinked, shut up for a moment. For once.

“Sorry?” He asked.

She sighed.

“Gale… look, as someone who knows what it feels like to have a bomb in their chest… you have so much to live for. And now that the orb isn’t a problem any more, you can live for it. So why would you throw it all away, just like that, on the whim of a goddess?”

He grinned at her, a sad little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Pity, since he was better looking when he was smiling.

“Huh,” a self deprecating little laugh. “Until a few weeks ago I was a hermit living in his tower with no one but his cat for company. What do I have to live for?”

And as if the gods willed it to happen, at that moment a bark of Shadowheart’s laughter reached them from the fire, and Karlach looked over to see her standing next to Tav, grinning. Tav was trying to hold back a smile of her own, trying, and failing miserably to hide the dimples in her cheeks, the twinkle in those grey eyes of hers.

Karlach watched them for a second, thanking whatever gods were up there for giving her friends like the two of them, especially now.

She turned back to Gale, and he was staring over at the fire with half a grin on his face, his eyes filled longing, with so much adoration she wanted to puke almost. Fuck, he was an idiot. Both of them were idiots. Fuck.

“Oh, I dunno,” she said, unable to stop a knowing little smile from forming on her lips. “I can think of at least one thing that might be worth living for.”

He started, his eyes leaving the fire, and a blush creeping over his bearded cheeks as he looked down at the ground, avoided her eyes. It was actually sort of adorable.

“You know,” she said softly, gently, “if I could find someone to look at the way you were just looking at her, I think I’d find every reason imaginable to stay alive.”

“Come now, Karlach,” he shook his head, like she was a child who hadn’t quite figured out how the world worked yet. She saw his eyes drawn almost involuntarily back toward the fire.

“What type of man would I be to choose one woman over the fate of the entire world? Or, if Mystra is correct, the fate of all Nine Realms?”

Karlach had never been one to mince her words. Or hide her feelings. Or be shy about the important stuff. Especially now.

“The type of man who’s in love, Gale.”

Another bark of laughter reached them from the fire, and this time it was Tav’s. This time her head tilted back as she laughed at something Shadowheart had said, and the light from the fire and the setting sun caught her just right, and she looked like a golden statue of herself, her eyes screwed up with laughter. It was such a truthful, open moment that Karlach found herself grinning along.

When her eyes opened, they met Gale’s across the fire, and she frowned immediately and looked away.

But not before Karlach saw the same longing she’d seen in Gale’s eyes. Not before she saw the hurt.

“The type of man who’s loved back,” she said quietly.

Gale didn’t reply, and she didn’t expect him to, but maybe she’d given him something to think about. Maybe she’d given the two of them a chance to be happy, at least for a little while. That was more than most people ever got. More than Karlach had thought she’d ever get.

That was worth something.

“‘Sides,” she continued more jovially, “She’s probably going to end up being the one that saves all of us anyway, I’d bet. Now I know she probably already told you this, but I’ll say it again. We’re going to find a different way.”

And with that she started toward the fire, because she had a bomb in her chest, too, and she’d be damned if she wasted even a second of her new life worrying about it. She’d be damned if she wasted even a second being sad about it, instead of living, instead of feeling, instead of hoping.

She supposed it was up to Gale to want the same.

“Karlach!” He called after her when she’d taken a few steps. She stopped, turned back to him, already grinning at the fragile hope in his eyes.

“Do you… you truly believe she… returns my feelings?” He asked her.

“I think you’re an idiot if you don’t, soldier.”

Ugh. Wizards.

#this is not as good as the other one #but you know what i like it #also sorry ive been reading abercrombie so i think karlach sounds a little like shivers oops #thats also where the spit comes from it just felt natural after best served cold🤷‍♀️#deal with it #anyway #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale/tav #karlach cliffgate #gale bg3 #karlach bg3 #gale fic #gale dekarios fic #baldur’s gate 3 #my writing #wildweave

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