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#epilogue coming a little later
brimstoneandtreacle · 17 days
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i'm constantly trying to convince myself that he doesn't feel anything towards me (even Friendship feelings) but then i remember things that make me go "there is No fucking way he doesn't feel Something." and then i start trying to convince myself he doesn't again
#while i was typing the tags of my last post i started thinking about how much effort he put into spending time with me on the last day of—#classes because he knew we wouldn't see each other until august#i mean he went out of his Way to spend time with me. he'd never done that before#we had never even Alluded to like 'let's talk later' unless we had some Official thing to talk about#but that day we didn't have anything official to talk about#and yet he was saying things like 'i'll be back in my office in like 20 minutes tops' (with a tone of 'come see me when i get back')#and literally 'i hope i get to see you again before i have to leave'#and him having to write emails while i was sitting with him in his office but when i protested out of worry that i was interrupting his—#work he said 'no no! i want you here. i want to keep talking' and would apologise for having to do little tasks at the same time#and when he had to leave (had to go pick up his son) i walked out to our cars (parked next to each other) with him#and when we got to our cars he turned to me and paused in the way you do when there's an Important goodbye to say#and Insisted that i keep in touch. with so much Emphasis. no one has ever said it like that to me#he didn't say it in a 'just being nice' tone#idk. idk!#he Really treated me differently that day. as in he treated me with so much more idk like.#Affection. Warmth. Closeness. idk ! maybe it was just bc it was the last day but i feel like it was also bc Since it was the last—#day of classes he felt like he could let some professionalism slide & treat me more in the fashion that he Wants to#or at least a sneak peak of it#but then again. maybe he was just Humouring me the entire time. bc he knew I would want to see him extra bc it was the last day#idk. we spent hours together. that's a long time to humour someone#but still idk..#db#epilogue
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Sweet Like Wine
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Your monthly bleed is over—just in time for you and Astarion to find yourselves with a bit of alone time. You might not be able to feed your vampire as easily, but there's another hunger for the two of you to satiate.
Word Count: 9,154 words of filth
Warnings: sexual content (18+), soft Astarion, vulnerable Astarion, slightly insecure Astarion, mention of past sexual trauma, pet names, Astarion still doesn't realize he's loved for more than his body,
18+ Warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving, m receiving), touching over clothes, naked grinding, bite kink, blood kink, soft sex, creampie, aftercare, use of the words pussy, dick, cunt & cock, mentions of reader's period
Burns Like Rum (part 1) found {here}
Epilogue Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine coming soon!
Note: Thank you for all the love on the first part! I'm glad everyone loved it! Here's the second part :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Rain was coming. You had smelled it on the air for several days now, an altogether pleasant scent that reminded you of fast-flowing rivers in a pine forest, distinctly earthy and cold.
The first day you'd smelled it, so had Astarion, stopping every few seconds to sneeze and then complain about his heightened sense of smell being trigged by weather.
You had taken to sleeping in Astarion’s tent with him over the past few days, enjoying each other’s company while you waited for your period to end. He was enjoying getting fed nightly, and you were enjoying learning about him after he gave you the night of your life.
Well, enjoying was perhaps not the right word for your experience. You were glad he trusted you enough to tell you about the things Cazador had made him do. You were grateful he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with you. But your heart broke every time he told you a little more, his voice low and tired and broken, reciting his past like it was a crime he was ready to be locked up for. And, by gods, how your hatred for Cazador grew.
It wasn’t like you had ever liked the thought of Astarion’s vampiric master. Anyone who had killed this man (who you weren’t quite sure how you felt about but knew you cared for more than anyone else you’d ever known) was evil in your book. But Cazador... Cazador made devils look like saints in your eyes.
You packed up the last remnants of your camp the morning after Astarion had whispered to you about his year encased in stone, slight trembles in his body and growing more violent the longer he'd talked. You'd held him close that night, holding his hand and sliding your fingers through his hair to comfort him. But now you were brooding in the weak morning sun, contemplating which way you'd most like to kill Cazador.
Not that you would—that right was Astarion's, should he wish it. If the time came and he decided he couldn't do it alone, well, then you'd employ one of your many planned strategies to make that bastard suffer for everything he'd done to Astarion and his siblings.
You had decided last night to move on from the place you'd been camped for over a week. You'd been there too long; people had begun to stumble upon your tents, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized Astarion was a vampire or that Gale had a weapon in his chest and decided to try and kill them.
Wyll had gone scouting last night before the sun had set and had reported a town in the distance—near enough to reach before sunset, but only if you got moving as soon as dawn broke. So, you got up early, woke up your grouchy companions, and started breaking down camp. You were on the road less than an hour later.
You walked beside Astarion, both of you weighed down by your packs, your hands swinging beside each other. The backs of your hands kept brushing. You were so distracted by it and the thought that maybe, just maybe, you would take his hand the next time they brushed, that you didn't notice the others watching.
A twinge in your side made you hiss and bring your other arm to it, on the place of an old scar. The pain was a familiar, soft throb—a telling sign that the storm you'd been smelling was getting closer.
"Is your wound still alright?" Shadowheart asked you, shocking you out of your mind, and gesturing to your abdomen. The gash had healed up nicely, little more than some light, pale scarring now, but the phantom pains lingered. They struck at random and had become a cause of concern amongst the entire camp.
You nodded. "It's fine. I haven't felt anything yet. It's just...old wounds acting up."
"Let me know if you need anything," she said, which was a phrase you'd heard at least three times a day since the day you'd gotten the wound. This time, though, she sounded even more worried than normal.
You supposed she had more than enough reason to be worried—this was the first time you'd done this much moving since you'd been injured. You hadn't had to travel or hunt since then, and even your nights with Astarion between your legs kept you on your back with your calves thrown over his shoulders.
Not that Shadowheart knew that, exactly, but she had extracted a promise out of him not to let you do anything that might reopen the wound, which also meant Astarion had refused to let you take him in your mouth, afraid that such a position would be too much for you.
"I'm okay," you promised her, trying to keep the exasperation out of your voice.
You must have failed at doing so, because Astarion whispered a moment later, "She's just trying to keep you safe."
You deflated a little. "I...I know. I'm just...tired of being treated like a glass doll. I'm healed. I can handle myself."
"I know, she's just worried... We're all worried," he added, and you knew that 'we' included himself, a recent development when it came to any kind of emotion.
"I'll be okay," you promised.
"You better be," he said, finally taking your hand in his. Giddiness spread through you like wildfire. Astarion smiled at you and you got the feeling he knew you'd been dying for that to happen. "You're too cute to die on me now."
You rolled your eyes. "Well, I'll try my best."
Astarion looked at you with a fondness that had recently appeared in his eyes; it was a look you loved, one that made your entire body grow warm every time you caught him looking at you like that. You leaned into his side, letting him kiss the top of your head gently. You smiled up at him, ready to thank him for the open display of intimacy.
And then something in his eyes changed, a sparkle in the crimson. A smile twitched on his lips. For a moment, it looked like he might say something—only for his gaze to slide to the others, walking just ahead of you as if they knew to give you privacy. The sparkle to fizzled out.
"What is it?" you asked quietly.
"Walk faster, friends!" Gale called back to you. "The clouds aren't promising, that storm you've been complaining about will be upon us soon!"
"Later," Astarion said to you. "I'll tell you later."
He squeezed your hand and quickened his pace to catch up with the rest of your companions.
~❊~
Mercifully, the long day of traveling wasn't made longer—or more painful—by a fight of any kind, only by the miserable weather. Halfway through the day, the rain had begun in the form of slow, fat raindrops. By now, it was coming down fast and hard, almost painful when it hit your body, even with your many layers of clothing.
Wyll's estimation had been a little generous; the sun, though you couldn't see it, had already set by the time you got close enough to see windows in the buildings of the town, almost every one with a candle glowing on the windowsill.
"Isn't that just quaint," Astarion murmured as the muddy river of a dirt road beneath your feet slowly transitioned into cobblestones covered in at least an inch of water. "Gods, I hope this place has a good tavern."
"I hope it has an open inn," you said. "Everything hurts."
"Your wound?" he asked, frowning and automatically putting a hand on your abdomen.
You shook your head. "No—that's fine. Just my muscles are killing me from all this walking, and old injuries are acting up. It's the storm, I knew it was coming."
Lae'zel frowned. "Are you capable of sensing the weather? Why haven't you used this trick before?"
Shadowheart giggled behind her hand and got control of herself only when the gith's head snapped toward her.
You blinked. "It— I'm not actually able to do that, Lae. It's just that old wounds ache before storms. Lots of people have that. It's...kind of an old wives' tale, I guess?"
"She was right, though," Gale said, squinting up at the sky. His hood fell from his head. "The storm came when she thought it would."
Astarion sidled closer to you, smirking, and curled a hand around your waist. Under his breath, he teased, "Perhaps I...kept you awake too late last night, didn't I? Feeling a little soreness between those lovely legs?"
You rolled your eyes but leaned into his touch. "Don't you start."
The group walked further down the main thoroughfare, slowly spreading across the street, each one looking up at the signs on the buildings. Almost everything was closed: a few tailors' shops, a perfumery, an outdoor food market with empty vendor stalls.
Music drifted from one of the few open storefronts. Warm golden light spilled out onto the cobblestone street through the windows. Raucous laughter joined the jaunty sound of a bard's music. Inside, you could see tables packed with patrons, all singing in various states of drunkenness—and all safe from the storm outside.
Wyll gestured forward. "There's your tavern, Astarion."
Astarion grinned, his fangs flashing in the low light. "Who's up for a drink?"
"Maybe later," you said.
Pointedly, Wyll added, "Once we find an inn and rooms for the night. I'd rather not make camp out here in this damp."
"What, the Blade of Frontier's doesn't know how to rough it through bad weather?" Astarion teased.
"Stop taunting him and let's find an inn," you said, nudging him gently. "I just...want to go to bed, really."
"Alright," Astarion said, that sparkle back in his eyes again. "A good, long night's rest it is, then."
You moved further down the street. Karlach spotted the inn a few doors down and the group filed in through the door, just as thunder clapped overhead. You dragged Astarion into the building with you just before the rain could get worse. The clerk at the desk looked a bit annoyed to see you.
"We don't have enough rooms for all of you," they said, counting the seven of you.
Karlach pulled a face. Before she could say something accidentally indelicate, you pushed to the front of the group.
"How many rooms do you have available?"
"Just three," they said after a quick glance down at the open guestbook in front of them. "And they're not all next to each other."
You glanced back at the others.
"We could take two," Gale suggested. "Split us the old-fashioned way of ladies in one and us gents in another?"
Automatically, your gaze slid to Astarion; both of you appeared to have deflated at the idea of being separated. Wyll, of course, noticed.
"We'll take three and give the third to the lovebirds," he said, teasingly nudging his elbow into Astarion's side. "I don't think I have the heart to separate them."
"I find it agreeable," Lae'zel said with a decisive nod. She turned back to the clerk. "We'll take all three."
"It'll cost you," the clerk warned.
Astarion pulled out a money purse—no doubt stolen the last time you visited a merchant. "We can pay," he promised with that charismatic grin of his that made your stomach do flips.
He moved to the desk, sneakily grabbing your ass and squeezing as he walked by, and counted out the coins for the clerk. They counted it again and stood up only when they were satisfied.
"Come with me," they said. "I'll show you to your rooms."
~❊~
After saying goodnight to the others, escaping their teasing about keeping it down in the night for the sake of your poor neighbors, Astarion held open the door to your room to you. You got inside and glanced around; as far as rooms went, it wasn't awful. It was sparsely furnished and a tad cold, but there was a recently lit hearth and plenty of blankets on the beds. It was on the uppermost floor and you could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a brutal sound that made you agree with Wyll's earlier sentiment about staying out of the weather.
Both of you took off your soaked cloaks and hung them on the hooks next to the door to dry off. You set your stuff down on the ground, pulled the blankets off of one of the beds, and dropped them onto the other.
"Sharing a bed, are we?" Astarion asked with a little giggle, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into the back of your neck.
"Don't act like you don't want to," you said and leaned back into his chest. "I know you, Astari."
He hummed happily into your neck. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed the place where your neck and shoulder met. The nickname always made him happy, often bringing a pleasant blush to his cheeks after he'd fed.
If you had reached that point yet, this would have been the perfect time to say "I love you" and turn to kiss him over your shoulder. But you hadn't said it yet, and he hadn't said it, and you knew it wasn't time yet. You didn't know much, but you knew Astarion wasn't ready for that just yet.
You relaxed into his arms even more, practically melting against him. He planted soft, dainty kisses on your neck and shoulder. "What were you gonna tell me earlier? You had this look in your eye, like you were really excited."
Astarion's grin was audible in his tone as he whispered in your ear, "Your period's gone."
You frowned. "How do you know that and I don't?"
"Your scent's changing. I smelled it this morning, a weak scent of your menstrual blood, nearly gone. We've been traveling so you haven't been able to check recently, but once we got to the town I knew it was gone."
You shook your head. "Smell alone and you already know me better than I know myself."
Astarion scoffed. "Smell alone? Darling, I know your body better than anyone after this past week." His hand drifted down and slid between your legs, cupping you gently. Instantly, warmth flooded you and pooled in your cunt. "I know your shape...your taste...your smell..." He kissed your neck, pressing down on your clit through your clothes. You whimpered lightly. "I know exactly how to make you moan for me and I know what every moan means."
With every ounce of self-restraint you possessed, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. "Let's get settled in first, Astari. I need to get out of these wet clothes and I really should wash the grime and rain off me before we do anything and—" You stopped suddenly and turned in his arms, resting your hands on his biceps. "I don't have my period anymore."
Astarion blinked at you. "Why do you sound so sad? You've been in pain for the past week! Shouldn't you be glad it's gone?"
"Well, I suppose," you said, shrugging. You toyed with his collar, playing with the fabric between your fingers. "But I...I can't..." You sighed. "You can't feed from me."
His face softened. He gently took hold of your neck, brushing his thumb over the place he usually drank from. "Of course I can still feed from you... It just...takes a bigger tole on you now. Ah." He paused. "I see what you mean now."
You nodded. "It's back to being bloodless, and our fun's done."
Astarion chuckled deeply. "Oh, is that what you're sad about? No more loving little kisses between your legs from your vampire?" He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing them and pulling you flush to his body. "We can have a different kind of fun, my love, and it doesn't take your period to convince me to eat you out."
You heard him dimly, but didn't process anything after— "My vampire?"
Something in his face changed. A little bit of the light in his eyes seemed to fade. After a moment, he turned his face away. His body tensed in your arms. "Well, I...I thought that.... M-maybe after..."
You cupped his cheeks and turned him back to you. You kissed him softly, wanting to chase away every ounce of the self-doubt on his face. "I like the sound of that, Astarion." You brought a hand down to clasp his. "As long as I get to be yours, too."
"Darling," he murmured against your lips, seconds before kissing you again. His tongue pressed against your lips and you opened them to let him in. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he moaned softly into your mouth. His relief at your answer slowly relaxed his muscles and made his kiss incredibly tender. You returned his quiet moan with a soft, content sigh into his mouth.
When the kiss broke a few moments later, though it felt like an eternity, you immediately laid your head against Astarion's chest, hugging him tightly. He smoothed his hand over your hair, holding you close to him. He kissed the top of your head in a way that seemed almost domestic for him.
You closed your eyes, settling against his chest. The smell of him and the feel of his body against yours and his hand in your hair was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. And yet...
"I'm in wet clothes, and I'm very tired of being wet—unless it's you making me wet," you said, only half-aware of what you had said until you felt Astarion giggle into your hair.
"You're right, we should change and clean up," he said quietly, though he seemed just as reluctant as you to let go. "Then we can have our fun...and you can get all of me, like I promised you a week ago."
You hummed. "Gods, I'm looking forward to that."
"See? It's not all bad that you're not bleeding anymore," he teased, kissing your cheek.
You finally separated. Astarion dug through his pack until he found his usual shirt and pants. He closed the window's curtains and then you stripped where you stood, peeling the wet clothes off your skin. You walked over to the washroom, aware of Astarion's appreciative gaze on you, and scrubbed the dirt off your skin. You dried yourself off and Astarion joined you. It felt strange to watch your own reflection in the mirror but not see him standing next to you, even though you knew he was next to you, staring at you as he was apt to do.
You kissed his cheek and let your hand rest on his hip as you walked back toward the beds. You bent to rummage through your pack, only for his arms to circle your waist and pull you back up against his chest.
"Oh, darling, you're not going to need clothes for what I have planned," he murmured in your ear. He gently teased the shell of your ear with his teeth. You shuddered in his arms.
"Just jumping straight into it, huh?" you teased.
"I never waste time when I could be spending it with you," he breathed, letting one hand come up to cup your breast. You stumbled backward, sighing contentedly. "You like that, don't you?"
You whimpered. "More... Please darling, I..."
He chuckled and cupped both breasts in his hands. He squeezed them lightly and rested his head on your shoulder, looking down at your cleavage. "Hells, I love these tits, darling. So soft, like all your skin. So sensitive to my touch..."
Astarion began thumbing at your nipples. They perked up at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, kissing your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. You whimpered under his touch.
"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" he asked, squeezing your tits a little harder. He massaged them in his hands, contentedly watching from his perch on your shoulder.
You nodded, leaning your head against his. After a moment, you asked, breathless but still forming words, "Can you suck on them?"
He moved around to the front of you, grinning happily. "Of course I can, darling." He gently sat you down on the bed's edge and kneeled before you, a beautiful sight. He spread your legs to sit between them and get as close to you as possible, glancing down at your exposed cunt as he did. "Gods, I can't wait to be inside you," he muttered, just seconds before he took one of your nipples in his mouth.
Astarion's mouth was an absolutely wonderful thing. You'd figured that out the first night and for the subsequent week that he was skilled with his lips and tongue, far more skilled than his kisses let on. His mouth around your breast was heavenly as he sucked on your nipple, lightly at first and then slowly adding pressure. You'd be lucky if your tits weren't bruised come morning. His other hand held your breast, kneading your flesh, rolling your nipple in his fingers. The coolness of the skin of his fingers was a relief against your hot skin.
He moaned as he suckled on you. He flicked his tongue over your nipple and then kissed the fat of your breast. You brought your hand up to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, and he moaned loudly. You whimpered as his sucking grew to be almost too much. He understood your sound and switched breasts, licking and kissing the one he'd just been groping.
You stared down at the beautiful man happily sucking on your tits: his eyes closed and his long lashes fluttering every so often, his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking your breast into the heat of his mouth. You carded your fingers through his hair, delighting in the way it curled around your fingers and around his ears.
A sudden idea had you moving your hand down to his ear. You touched it gently and he moaned loudly. You giggled and began lightly caressing his ear. His moans turned into whimpers as you neared the pointed tip. At last he popped off your breast and his head fell against your stomach.
"Oh, gods, darling," he whined. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, that feels... Ohhh, that feels wonderful."
His little moan brought a rush of wetness to your core. You kept playing with his hair, hoping to draw another one of those weak whimpers out of him.
Astarion shuddered into your touch. He was panting heavily and moved shakily, but he still managed to get his hand between your legs. He slid two fingers inside of you with ease.
"Ohhh, sweet girl, you're so wet for me," he breathed. "Can I—?"
"Yes, please," you gasped, knowing instantly what he wanted to do. Your fingers left his ear and he ducked his head between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit. "More."
Astarion chuckled into your pussy. "Patience, dear." He began to suckle on your clit, the pressure alone enough to make you see stars. Then his tongue flicked over you in the way he'd learned you licked and you fell back against the bed, arching into his mouth. His hands came up to grip your hips and pull you closer to him.
He moved lower and pushed his tongue into your entrance. The two of you moaned in tandem and Astarion's fingers dug into your hip, hard enough to leave bruises come morning.
The sounds of Astarion's slurping became obscene, but you couldn't find it in you to be embarrassed. You only moaned louder as his nose bumped your clit.
Without warning, Astarion slipped his fingers back inside you. You arched into his touch, gasping as his fingers curled inside you.
"Astarion!" you groaned, grinding down on his face and fingers. He chuckled into you.
"That's it, my love, you're close," he murmured, staring into you and watching your walls clench around his fingers. "Just let go for me, you're almost there."
You moaned, writhing as he went back to sucking on your clit. His fingers found the right spot and you covered your mouth with a hand to muffle the near-scream that came out of you—a sound you had no idea you could even make.
"No, no, no," Astarion chided, fixing you with a look. "Don't you muffle those sounds. I want to hear you scream for me, darling."
You whimpered. You panted as your orgasm slowly crept up on you. Your hips stuttered and lifted off the bed—Astarion took advantage and slipped his arm underneath you, dragging you back to him and pressing his mouth back to your clit. He kissed it gingerly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it in the circles you liked so much. Sometimes it amazed you how well he remembered your body and your likes, even if you'd only told him once.
"Astari," you whined, the tight ball in your core very close to snapping.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Come on, sweet girl, it's alright. Cum for me. Cum on my face, darling. I want it. I want to taste you. That's it, that's it, that's it!"
You finished with a loud cry, your back arching, Astarion moaning into your cunt and his tongue lapping quickly to catch every drop of your release. He kept curling his fingers even as your walls tightened to the point of being difficult to move them.
Astarion leaned back, grinning up at you. His face shone; it was almost weird not to see blood on his face. He looked back down at your pussy, staring eagerly, licking your cum off of his lips. "You're so wet, darling. Gods, you'll be a tight fit, but I could slide in right now if I wanted to..."
You nodded very quickly, whimpering. "Please, Astarion, please, I want you to."
He raised an elegant brow at you. "Oh, do you, now?" You nodded, whining. "Say it, darling."
Your body twisted in a way that seemed impossible as you said, a tremendous blush on your face which you were trying to hide in the bed, "I want you to fuck me, Astarion."
He grinned toothily, his fangs shining. A deep sound that neared a growl emanated from his chest. "Again. Say it again, louder."
"Fuck me, Astari," you whined, a little louder than the first time.
Something in Astarion snapped. He pulled you back onto your feet and flush to his body, kissing you fiercely. It was almost harsh, his fangs nicking your lips. You hissed and Astarion pulled back. The desire—a mix of bloodlust and arousal—was clear in his eyes, but he paused to ask, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine," you promised. "It's not like you haven't nicked me in more sensitive places."
"And you like it, every time," he teased, briefly kissing your forehead. He wiped away a small dot of blood on your lips with his thumb and licked it off.
You smiled at him. "What can I say, you've given me quite the biting kink."
Astarion chuckled. "Cheeky little pup," he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. "Ready to continue?"
You nodded, unable to stop the happy grin that overtook your face at the idea of him finally taking you. A thrill ran down your spine as Astarion laid you back on the bed and crawled up to you, kissing you harshly. You were dimly aware of him pumping his cock between you.
He pulled away suddenly, glancing down his body. "Shit."
You frowned, trying to catch his eye again. "Darling? What's wrong?"
Astarion sighed. "In my...excitement, I may have forgotten a very important detail." He looked down at himself and you sat up and followed his gaze. His cock was half-hard, but not nearly enough to slide into you. You whispered a quiet "oh." In his embarrassment, Astarion refused to meet your gaze. He looked much smaller, like he'd curled up into himself. "Unimpressive, huh?"
The half-disguised anger and humiliation in his voice made your heart ache. You cupped his face, turning his face toward you. You kissed him softly. "Oh, Astarion... No, you're not. You are impressive, you're just not quite ready yet. You forget I've seen you before, fully hard after you feed."
"I think you're missing the point," he said weakly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, effectively hiding himself. "I can't fuck you like this, darling."
"You can once you've had some blood, but that's beside the point." You kissed his cheek, rubbing a hand through his hair. He leaned into your touch. "You're more than just sex, Astarion. Damn good sex, sure, but that's not all you are, no matter what anybody else—and especially your master—told you."
He turned to you, a strange look in his eyes. You took his hand, raised it to your mouth, and kissed the back of his hand. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder.
"This is the second time you've had to say this, something like this, to me during sex," he said with a humorless giggle, a shadow of his usual one.
"And I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it," you promised, kissing the top of his head.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. Instead, he just blinked until the teary glaze in his eyes went away. "Thank you," he whispered, and he adjusted to kiss the spot on your neck he always drank from. He lightly scraped his teeth against your skin. "Do you want to do this?"
You hummed, leaning into his affection. "Yes, sweetheart. I want this. I want you. I want you very, very badly."
He smiled. "Lay on your side, darling. Let me lay behind you."
You did as he asked, relaxing into his hold and letting him manhandle you into the position he wanted. He pulled you flush against his body, his length pressing into you, his arm around your waist and holding you against him as if he was afraid you'd try to escape the moment he bit you. With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your neck.
"Are you ready, darling?" he whispered, dragging his teeth across the shell of your ear.
You nodded. "Mhm."
"Just relax for me," he breathed. He nuzzled into your neck and kissed the spot he was going to bite. "Right here? Your favorite spot?"
"Right there," you whispered. You put your hand over his and both of you (you weren't sure who moved first) twined your fingers together. He squeezed your hand gently before he sank his teeth into your neck.
Quiet filled the room, except for the rain on the roof, your steady breathing (only steady for now), and Astarion's sucking.
It had been just over a week since he'd fed from you this way, and the sensation was just as alien as it had been that first night you'd let him drink—two tiny shards of ice, the cold numbness spreading slowly through the surrounding area, preventing you from feeling any pain in his bite. Slowly, you acclimated to the sensation and it faded into a dull, throbbing pleasure.
He slid his free hand under your head, holding your head up and your neck steady. He gently scratched your scalp.
"Astarion," you moaned, squeezing his hand. He grunted, continuing his sucking. You focused less on the sound of it—which reminded you vaguely of sucking juice out of a dripping fruit—and more of the feeling of his body against you. "Enjoy this, sweetheart. Please, just for me."
He cuddled closer to you, humming, and you smiled as he let go of your hand to briefly squeeze your hip. Your smile widened when he took your hand in his again as quickly as he possibly could.
It didn't take long for Astarion to start getting into it. He began whimpering softly, so unrestrained you were certain he had no idea he was doing it. Slowly, his hips began rolling against you, gentle motions at first that grew more noticeable and more desperate the longer he drank.
His teeth still in your neck, Astarion began grinding his hardened length into the swell of your ass. His whimpers became moans and then animalistic grunts. He drank in time with every thrust against you and slowly you were reduced to those two sensations.
Throbbing overtook you. Your head was pounding, just slight enough for it to be ignored, and need pulsed in your cunt. You could feel your juices coating your thighs and the dull throbbing in your clit. But the rest of your body was growing pleasantly numb. Your extremities began to tingle.
Astarion's gulps slowed down and his thrusting became feral. You moaned once, very loudly, as his cock slid briefly between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. Your moan spurred him on and he adjusted to keep grinding himself on your thigh.
A few more swallows of blood was all it took for the edges of your vision to get blurry. Your eyes fluttered shut; you didn't have the strength to open them again. You could no longer feel your fingers and you were only partially aware of your hand slipping out of his. But Astarion was incredibly aware of it; he stopped drinking and twisted around you to lay in front of you to check on you.
Your head dropped to the mattress without Astarion's hand holding you up. A sudden wave of dizziness overtook you and you groaned quietly.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," he said, cupping your cheek. You opened your eyes. "There's my girl. How are you doing? Feel okay? Did I take too much?"
"Slow down on the questions," you said, "and hold me."
He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. "But are you okay?"
You nodded. "Give me a minute and I'll be right as rain."
He giggled. "Right as rain..."
You rolled your eyes. "What can I say, the storm's got me thinking." You tucked yourself into his arms, your lips against his chest. You kissed his skin softly. He hummed happily and you continued, nipping at his skin. Now that he'd fed, bruises started to form under your lips.
"I'm okay now," you said after a few moments. The throbbing in your head had eased up and you no longer felt like you were about to pass out.
"Not dizzy anymore?" he asked.
You shook your head. "I'm alright."
He smiled at you; gods, that smile was gorgeous. "Well, now, dear. Let me return the favor..."
You blinked at him. "Favor—? Oh!"
Astarion's mouth was back on your breasts, this time leaving hickeys all over your skin—and tiny, bloody pinpricks from his fangs—that matched the bruises you'd left on him. You whined, gripping his hair tightly.
He grinned against your skin. "Oh, darling—I know. I know you want me. Your body and I have kept you waiting long enough, haven't we?"
You put your hand on his chest. "Wait, darling. Let me..." You slid down his body and gripped his cock in your hand. He groaned loudly, bucking his hips into your hand.
"Oh, darling, that feels..." He moaned. "Gods."
"It's about to get better, if you'd like?" you asked. You kissed his thigh. "Do you want me to?"
Something in his face changed, his features softening. You fancied that you could see some of his walls come down in his eyes, but you chalked it up to your hopeful imagination. But then he was nodding and whispering, "Yes."
You kissed around his base, watching him shudder every time your lips touched his skin. You locked eyes with him and pressed your lips to his base. He whined, high and needy, throwing his head back. You smiled; you'd never heard him make that sound before, but I wanted to hear it again.
You moved up to kiss his tip. A groan came from the back of his throat. You gave his head a small lick and watched his entire body shudder with pleasure.
"Ready?" you asked him, placing another kiss to his length.
"Yes," he breathed, looking down at you. "Yes."
You licked the underside of his cock, from base to head, then took his head in your mouth and sucked lightly. He whined the entire time, growing steadily louder until he was moaning. You took him deeper and he threw his head back again, swallowing harshly. Gods, he's so pretty when he's losing control... You reached up and took his hand, squeezing gently.
He bucked his hips into your mouth. You made a soft sound of slight complaint, surprised by the motion. "S-sorry," he breathed, his chest heaving. His voice was tight, the muscles of his abdomen tight. "You just... Gods, you're good at this. You are...amazing."
You squeezed his hand until he looked down at you, your question was in your eyes: are you alright?
"Keep going," he urged. "I'm— I'm more than alright, darling."
You sank down further until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned to feel him twitch in your mouth; you weren't expecting the breathy gasp that came from him. You did it again and his hand left yours to thread through your hair, putting the slightest amount of pressure on you.
"Is this okay?" he asked shakily, struggling to get the words out through his heavy breaths.
You winked at him and he groaned, the sound feral. He held onto your hair for dear life and you kept sucking, licking the underside of his cock every chance you could. Occasionally, he bucked his hips desperately, alternating between gasping for breath and whimpering your name between moans that verged on sobs.
Astarion jerked his hips, his cock kicking up. You took advantage to swirl your tongue around his tip, tasing his pre-cum. He leaned up on his forearms and you saw the tears on his waterline. Concerned flooded through you. His face was relaxed into an expression of pure ecstasy, but...
You pulled off of him. "Astarion? Are you okay, sweetheart?"
His chest heaved, glistening with sweat, while he gasped for breath. "I— I'm okay. You're wonderful, darling, absolutely..." He beckoned you up to him with two fingers, that dominant look back in his eye. You did as he ordered without question. "Come here. As much as I love this, I need to fuck you."
You whined. "Astari, please. Please. Please, I want you."
"Look at you, begging for me," he cooed, his hand sliding between your legs. He rubbed your clit and you arched into his touch, moaning wantonly. "There she is. That's it, darling, just feel good for me."
You leaned into his chest. "Astarion! I need you. I need you to fuck me, please, gods."
Astarion chuckled and pulled his hand away from you. He gently laid you on your back and crawled over you. He kissed you deeply before sitting back and lining himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. Anticipation and excitement mixed in your stomach.
Astarion placed the head of his cock against you and then looked up at you. His face was fond as he met your gaze. "Are you ready for me, darling?"
"Yes," you breathed. "I— Oh, gods, yes!"
"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered. He kissed your forehead briefly.
You watched him move, slowly bucking his hips forward to push his cock inside of you. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. You forced yourself to remember to breathe as he bottomed out, your walls stretching to accommodate him; he finally let out a deep groan from the back of his throat.
"Darling," he moaned, leaning down to you. You reached up, putting your hand in his hair, and brought his head down to you. Once again, you weren't sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours.
It was a gentle kiss that was fitting for his slow, shallow thrusts. The two of you panted into each other. He put his forehead against yours, glancing down and watching him slide in and out of you, whispering in Elvish at the sight.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "Astarion... Oh, gods..."
"You feel so good," he groaned. "Darling, I— Ohhh, sweet girl." He bent down to lick the small blood spots off your breasts. He moaned sweetly. "You taste even better when I'm inside you, my love. You taste sweet—like a delectable wine."
You whimpered. "I don't mean to deprive you of my blood, dear, but please please kiss me."
He chuckled and kissed his way up your neck, stopping briefly to lick your already-closing puncture wounds, before he kissed your lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron.
Your walls tightened around him. He was rubbing inside of you in just the right ways, hitting pleasure spots that his fingers had already made tender. His thrusts were still gentle, not enough to make you see stars but enough to make your entire body relax and give in to the pleasure.
"You're wonderful, darling," he murmured. He reached up to roll your nipple in his fingers. "You feel so perfect around me. So tight...so wet...so eager... Gods, darling, yes, just clench around me like that."
You threw your head back and he immediately descended on it, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin. You could feel the bruises that you would find in the morning.
"Faster," you told him. "I can take more than this, Astari."
He grinned and you were moaning seconds later as he sped up, his hips snapping into you.
"Can you take it harder? Deeper?" he asked. "You have no idea how hard it is not to ravish you, darling."
You cupped his chin and brought him back up to your face. You kissed him hard, more tongues and teeth than anything. You met his gaze and whispered, "Then ravish me."
Astarion pushed his lips back to yours, grunting animalistically, and slammed his cock into you. You cried out, clinging to him desperately as he fucked you relentlessly, his hips snapping against yours, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. The head of his cock kissed your cervix every time, making your entire body shudder. You began meeting his thrusts and he chuckled, one hand gripping your hip to help keep you up.
You threw your legs around his hips and both of you groaned at the new angle. Astarion muttered to himself in Elvish, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You kissed him, bringing him back to you. He smiled, kissing your forehead.
"Aren't you gorgeous?" he whispered to you, staring deep into your eyes. There was an alertness there that you hadn't noticed the first time he'd fucked you like this, out in the woods that night.
You reached up to cup his cheek. "You're quite handsome like this, Astarion," you murmured. "You always are."
He smiled softly at you and turned to kiss your palm, his hips stuttering for a moment. He grunted and pushed deeper into you, making you cry out again. He glanced down your bodies and watched the two of you thrust into each other.
"Gods, that's a pretty view," he murmured, his voice breathy. "Your slick shining on my dick...and, oh, look at that... The outline of my cock in your tummy. Gods, that's hot." He placed his hand on your lower abdomen where the bulge was and he pressed down. You whined, clenching your teeth and trying not to scream. He, of course, noticed. "Oh, that feels good, does it?"
You whimpered out a weak, "Yes!" He grinned and began pressing down on every stroke into you.
You gripped his shoulder, your nails digging in; you knew there would be scratches on his back and shoulders come morning and you were careful to avoid his scar, knowing just how painful that would be if scratched.
He kept losing his rhythm every so often and you knew he was getting close; thankfully, so were you.
"I'm close," you whispered. "I'm so close, darling."
On the next thrust in, he adjusted the hand pushing down on your abdomen so that his thumb could circle around your clit. "Does this help?"
You whined, nodding frantically. "Oh, Astari— Don't stop, please don't stop, I—" Your words faded into moans. He giggled.
"Don't worry, darling, I don't intend on stopping until you've finished around my cock," he whispered in your ear. Your entire body shuddered.
Astarion's thrusts grew a bit sloppier, but his thumb on your clit remained dedicated to making you cum. You were half-convinced the way he spoke as he gazed down at you adoringly would be enough even without the cock thrusting into you or the thumb stimulating you.
"Gods, look at you," he murmured. "Look at that body, responding to me so eagerly! Those beautiful breasts, perky nipples, all covered in my bite marks... That lovely neck, marked and still just barely bleeding..." He bent to lick the thin trail of blood. "These legs, wrapped around my waist, and that pussy just sucking me in." He brushed your hair out of your eyes. "And I could never forget this darling face, those beautiful eyes just staring up at me like I hung the moon and stars..." He pressed his forehead to yours. Softly, he said, "Come on, darling, cum for me. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you clench around me and lose yourself in me."
The thread inside you snapped. You arched off the bed and into his body. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him, whispering words of encouragement. You screamed as you came, clenching so hard around him it was a miracle he kept fucking you through it. He pulled his hand off your clit as soon as the feeling became too much, reading your body with ease.
"That's it," he whispered to you. "That's my girl. Easy, darling, breathe. You did so well. Do you mind if I—" He groaned, hips faltering for a moment. "Do you mind if I cum inside you?"
You whined. "Oh, gods, yes, please do! Cum inside me, Astarion, cum inside me, I want it!"
He moaned happily, kissing your neck fervently. He began rambling. "Hells, darling, you spoil me. Feeding me with your bleeding cunt for a week? Taking my cum the moment it's over? You needy, heavenly little thing." He kissed his way up to your jaw. You put your fingers in his hair. "Oh, you're so wet now, sweet girl. You've soaked me. You look so pretty around me. Oh, gods, you're so much tighter now— I'm not going to last much longer, dear. You're good, you're too good. My love, oh my love!" He lost his rhythm entirely, fucking you only with the need to cum. "I love this. I love every bit of this. I love—"
He cut himself off. He cried out, burying his face in your neck and his cock in your cunt. Warmth flooded you as he spilled himself deep inside you. His hips stuttered and flexed a few more times, his cock twitching inside you, before he finally let out a long breath and collapsed on top of you. Immediately, your arms wrapped around him and you held him tight to your chest.
As the two of you lay panting together, your mind was working on overdrive. He hadn't said it, but you'd heard what he wanted to say: I love you. The very same words you were dying to say.
At last, Astarion lifted his head. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You combed your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered. "Not one bit, darling. I'm perfectly fine." You kissed his nose and he giggled. You stared at him, your beautiful boy, for a moment, enjoying the feelign of his body actually being warm against yours for once, before you asked, "What about you? Are you feeling alright? Good, even?"
Astarion giggled. "Don't sell yourself short, my love, you're absolutely wonderful. I feel amazing. Content. Cared for. Loved." With every word, his voice got smaller, quieter. He seemed to retract into himself. You frowned.
"Where'd you go? Come back to me," you whispered.
He looked back up at you and the tears were back in his eyes, but this time you doubted they were tears of pleasure. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..." He sighed. "I didn't mean to disappear on you. It's just...I'm used to that. I'm used to disappearing during sex, after sex... But I didn't do that this time. It was...different with you. It was nice. You've cared for me like no one else ever has. You...you paid attention to what I wanted, how I felt, what I liked. You weren't just using me for your own pleasure. I... It was like...you cared about me. I don't even know what to say! But, ah, you made me feel good, in a lot of ways. So... Thank you, darling."
You cupped his face and kissed him softly. "Of course I care about you, Astarion, I— I...love you."
He tensed up in your arms. A flash of panic passed through his eyes. You shook your head quickly.
"You don't have to say it back," you said hurriedly. "Not until you're ready. But I want you to know exactly how I feel about you. And...I love you."
He smiled and relaxed, melting into your embrace. "Thank you, my love. I...I'm not ready, not quite yet, but...thank you for respecting that. Here—let me cuddle you, I know how much you like that."
The two of you adjusted so that you could lay on your sides. You curled up in his arms and nestled your head into his neck. He carded his fingers through your hair, a gentle movement that was well on its way to lulling you to sleep. You reluctantly pulled yourself away, and only because you had adjusted and suddenly felt the cooling, sticky liquid between your thighs.
"We should get cleaned up," you murmured.
Astarion hummed. "Oh, yes, let me—" He reached for his shirt on the floor and brought it up to himself.
"No, no," you said. "Let me do it."
You took a towel and dampened it in the bowl of lukewarm water on the nightstand—probably there for this exact purpose. You squeezed the excess water out and gently wiped your mixed, drying releases from Astarion's thighs, abdomen, and cock. He sighed softly, relaxing as you cleaned him off.
"No one's ever done this for you before, have they?" you asked. He shook his head. You kissed him softly. "Get used to it, darling, because I intend to do this for you every time."
He grinned, a pleasant blush on his cheeks. "I could get used to this." He took the towel away from you. "Here, let me do it for you."
You laid back and let him slid between your legs. He groaned softly. "Oh, my sweet girl, you look so delicious with my cum dripping out of you."
You blushed fiercely, groaning. "Stop talking like that, or I'm going to demand we go again."
He perked up. "I'm up for a second round—if you can handle it, that is," he added with a cheeky grin.
You considered it for a moment while he wiped your thighs and entrance clean. "Give me an hour and maybe we can."
Astarion smiled and placed a dainty kiss just above your clit. "That's my girl." He laid back down beside you and pulled you into his arms. "Get some rest now, darling, you need it after today."
You wrapped your arms around him and rested your cheek against his chest. "Thank you, Astarion. For everything."
He hummed and kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair. "You're welcome, my love."
~❊~
You were ready to leave the next morning, and you and Astarion met the others in front of the clerk's desk on the first floor of the inn. Astarion handed back the key while you limped over to the group.
Unsurprisingly, Astarion had left you with quite the limp, even more severe than the first time he'd eaten you out at camp. Karlach didn't even try to contain her laughter at the sight of you.
"So you did fuck her last night!" she said to Astarion as he joined you. You blushed heavily. "We had no idea, couldn't hear a thing!"
Astarion raised an eyebrow, then looked at you with a grin. "They couldn't hear us, even with all the noise you made? We're getting a room at an inn every chance we can get from now on!"
"Not so fast," Gale said quickly, "they might not have heard you, but Wyll and I did!"
You squeaked. "You did?"
Wyll nodded, somewhat amused and somewhat apologetic. "You made noises I didn't think were possible. Or meant pleasure."
You turned immediately to Astarion, who was grinning like a cat, and buried your face in his chest. "Hide me."
"It's alright, darling," he whispered to you. "Gale and Wyll were across the hall from us. Next time, we'll just get a room as far away from the others as possible and I'll make you scream into the wee hours of the morning."
You blushed very brightly and the others groaned.
"Don't break her," Shadowheart chided. "Is your wound—"
"It's fine!" both you and Astarion said before she could continue.
"She's all healed up, no more scarring," Astarion promised. "Believe me, I wouldn't have gone as hard as I did if I thought she would get hurt by it."
"Okay, that's enough!" Gale said quickly. "Let's leave, please, and keep going. We've got important business to attend to!"
As you left the inn, Astarion took your hand and kissed the top of your head. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you? That limp's quite noticeable, dear."
"I'm fine," you promised. "You were quite good last night."
"Good. I'd be inconsolable if I had hurt you," he said. He brush your hair behind you ear. "I mean that, you know."
You leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "I know, darling. And thank you. Now, come on, help me walk. It will be your fault if I fall."
He snorted. "Because I have you a good orgasm? No, wait, how many did it end up being last night? Two the first time...then another three?"
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, stop bragging! Come on, Gale's right: we've got work to do."
Astarion kissed you one last time, then pulled you against his side and followed the others out of the village.
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin
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I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.
Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.
I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.
Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.
Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?
She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.
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This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.
This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.
I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.
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This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.
Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.
Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.
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The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!
But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.
She's ready, but Hunter is not.
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You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.
But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?
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And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.
And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.
Because that's what fathers do.
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potatoesandsunshine · 2 years
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me going through the slideshow at the end of da:awakening: ok so this didn't happen. that didn't hapoen. I'm normal about it. It's fine. 😭
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parkerslatte · 7 months
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Overlooked | Part One
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Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: none.
Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue
•••
Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre. 
Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone. 
Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation. 
There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint. 
“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug. 
Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while. 
“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked. 
“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”
“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”
“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.
“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued. 
“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied. 
“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”
It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.
“When is this happening?” Y/N asked. 
“Two days time,” Feyre replied. 
Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.” 
Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore. 
***
Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection. 
When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever. 
The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.
The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in. 
While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped. 
The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne. 
When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N. 
“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more. 
Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own. 
Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that. 
Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room. 
She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful. 
Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her. 
“The eldest Archeron sister.”
Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her. 
“Yes?” Y/N said. 
A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that. 
“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual. 
“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”
“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.” 
Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”
Eris hummed.
Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest. 
Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”
Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”
There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped. 
“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned. 
“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”
“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?” 
Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”
Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N. 
“Come and dance with me,” Eris said. 
For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet. 
Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight. 
Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket. 
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper. 
Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”
“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”
“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N. 
The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity. 
“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”
“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.
“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”
“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded. 
“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him. 
“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”
Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares. 
Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care. 
“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music. 
At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.
“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.
Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”
As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”
Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes. 
“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”
Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after. 
“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps. 
Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. 
Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped. 
“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief. 
Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”
From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand. 
“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented. 
Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces. 
“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered. 
“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”
Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them. 
“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed. 
“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.
“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister. 
“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”
“That’s not true,” Feyre said.
“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”
“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.
“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”
Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”
The Inner Circle were silent. 
“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”
“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”
Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”
“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.
“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”
“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”
Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”
A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”
Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”
Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist. 
“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”
“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”
“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”
“She is not staying–”
“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”
“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.
Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”
“How long will that be?” Elain asked. 
“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance. 
Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”
“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”
Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight. 
Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home. 
“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her. 
Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed. 
Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place. 
“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”
“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”
“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away. 
“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.
“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”
Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”
Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”
Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”
Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”
“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.
“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”
Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.
“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.
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plutolovesyou · 1 month
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how soon is now? | part two
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READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸
previous chapter. series masterlist.
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♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader
☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!
♧:5.7k word count (lawd)
◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!
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4 months later 
Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 
Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.
You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 
Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  
The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.
You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.
The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 
She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.
“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.
Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.
She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 
You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.
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As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?
Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.
Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.
But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.
You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.
Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 
You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.
Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.
She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.
“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.
There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 
You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.
She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.
“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 
“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 
You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 
Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 
She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”
“He died last year.” Oof.
“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”
“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 
“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 
And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 
She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 
Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.
The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.
While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”
You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 
Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”
Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.
You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 
Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 
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A couple days later.
Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 
You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 
To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?
You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.
In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 
Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 
But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 
Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 
Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.
Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.
Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.
Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?
The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 
You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 
Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 
The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.
Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 
The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.
You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.
The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.
You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 
Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.
Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 
The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?
The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.
You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 
You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.
Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 
Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.
Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 
Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 
Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 
She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”
Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 
You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 
The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 
You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 
She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 
Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.
To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?
Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.
Smooch.
You kissed her. 
Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 
She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 
Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 
She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 
An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.
The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 
Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 
You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 
The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 
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Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?
You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.
You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.
But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.
You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.
Meanwhile on your bedside table:
Bzz, bzz, bzz. 
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lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)
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luvlyhyunjin · 3 months
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Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU
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・❥・Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader ・❥・Genre: Kind of (?) Villainous FL , angst, romance, smut , college au, enemies to lovers, very minor love triangle, slow burn, social media au (with written parts) ・❥・Synopsis: It girl, Queen Bee the most popular girl around campus Song Y/N was envied by everyone. She has it all, money, the looks and brains. After making a bet with her bestfriend Yeosang her life takes a turn to the worse, seeming to lose everyone around her she doesn't expect the only person to stick by her side to be her Ex-first love and long time enemy - Hwang Hyunjin. (The bet part is inspired by the k-drama tempted however nothing else is the same) ・❥・Warnings: contains mature themes minors dni, heavy angst, Vulgar language, swearing, kys jokes etc. Mentions of weight and disordered eating. Sexual themes and talks. FL is really mean and malicious at times (will get better ofc) , eventual smut. {will add more later if needed}. ・❥・Status: completed. TW = TRIGGER WARNING. W = WRITTEN PART. ・❥・ spotify playlist:
Profiles (Y/N's Friends) | Profiles (Hyunjin's Friends) | Profiles (Notable Cast)
⇀ One - Cheating Again.
⇀ Two - New Girl.
⇀ Three - I hate Her.
⇀ Four - The Beast Is Out.
⇀ Five - Early Birdies.
⇀ Six - What’s Your Problem?
⇀ Seven - Talking In Circles.
⇀ Eight - Just One Meow (TW).
⇀ Nine - Give Us A Chance.
⇀ Ten - Operation : Hwang's Pet.
⇀ Eleven - Why Is It Always Her? (TW) (W)
⇀ Twelve - Lock Me Up.
⇀ Thirteen - The Bet.
⇀ Fourteen - A little Too Silly.
⇀ Fifteen - I'm A Fuck Up
⇀ Sixteen - Wrapped In Regret (W)
⇀ Seventeen - On Some Me Shit.
⇀ Eighteen - Pink Flowers.
⇀ Nineteen - My One And Only.
⇀ Twenty - Make It Up To Me.
⇀ Twenty-One - Furry Convention.
⇀ Twenty -Two - Hello Kitty Can Get It.
⇀ Twenty-Three - I'm Human Too.
⇀ Twenty-Four - If Poetry Was A Person. (W)
⇀ Twenty-Five - You Got Me.
⇀ Twenty-Six - I Want To See You.
⇀ Twenty-Seven - It's A Wife Thing.
⇀ Twenty-Eight - Forever And Ever.
⇀ Twenty-Nine - Alpha Pheromones.
⇀ Thirty- Such A Waste.
⇀ Thirty-One - Wish you could stay. (W)
⇀ Thirty-Two - Yeji Come Home.
⇀ Thirty-Three - I'm Pathetic.
⇀ Thirty-Four - Drown me in your feelings.
⇀ Thirty-Five - Flickers Of The Past I (W)(TW)
⇀ Thirty-Six - Why Am I Always Thirdwheeling?
⇀ Thirty-Seven - Jin Is Missing !
⇀ Thirty-Eight - Only A Warning.
⇀ Thirty-Nine - I Need Him.
⇀ Forty- Permanently Scowling.
⇀ Forty-One - stupidly crazy about you.
⇀ Forty-Two - You're My Biggest Wish. (W)
⇀ Forty-Three - You're A Cute Slut.
⇀ Forty-Four - Because I Love You.
⇀ Forty-Five - Light Of My Life.
⇀ Forty-Six - Out Of Time. (W)
⇀ Forty-Seven - Everything Sucks.
⇀ Forty-Eight - Wifey Night.
⇀ Forty-Nine - I'm Sorry I Love You.
⇀ Fifty - Flickers Of The Past II (TW)(W)
⇀ Fifty-One - Long Lonely Dream.
⇀ Fifty-Two - you're so edgy and cool
⇀ Fifty-Three - I was made for loving you (TW)(W)
⇀ Fifty-Four - I believe in you.
⇀ Fifty-Five - i want to die next to you.
⇀ Fifty-Six - new adventures with friends.
⇀ Fifty-Seven - Who The Fuck Is They.
⇀ Fifty-Eight - i feel like a monstrous creature.
⇀ Fifty-Nine - this happens once every few lifetimes (w)
⇀ Sixty - Epilogue.
⇀ Things you might have missed..
・❥・Taglist: Closed.
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Epilogue
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader
Warnings: tiny bit of angst, mentions of past trauma, fluff, smut mdni (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, praising, dad jokes
Words:
Synopsis: Years later, you and Simon are still together but as more than roommates….
You are currently reading the last part to The Roommate Series
Few years later…
You were bored. 
So bored that you were worried you might start nodding off, like a few of the others who sat in the seats next to you. You should’ve been more excited about the fact that you were finally graduating, but it was difficult to feel anything other than the slight need of sleep when one of the professors conducting the speech wouldn’t stop talking.
How long had he been talking for? You’re zoned out a while ago, wishing you could pull out your phone to scroll through social media or check your messages just to pass the time until he was finally done. Instead, you had to sit there and listen to him ramble about something until it was time for you to walk.
You’d much rather be checking your messages now that you thought about it. Simon was supposed to text you this morning before you went to the ceremony since he was still on a mission, but you had gotten nothing the last time you checked.
Your feelings were a little hurt, but it worried you more than anything. If he couldn’t text you he was working and that meant it was possible he could be hurt-
You let out a deep breath, letting the thought drift away before it started to fester. 
Simon was fine. He spoke to you last night so he was probably just busy. You could text him when the ceremony was over, maybe even call him if he had enough time to spare. It would be nice to hear him and tell him all about the time you wasted listening to the professor who was one strong breeze from turning into dust.
You perked up when the professor stepped down and clapped a little more enthusiastically than you meant to. You watched as another professor came up to the podium and announced with the same kind of excitement that it was time to hand out diplomas.
You watched the first row of grads walk towards the podium to be announced. As they walked across the stage you couldn’t help but feel a little bittersweet about the situation.
Simon had planned to be here to celebrate with you. You both had come up with a plan to go out to eat at a fancy restaurant and maybe get a couple drinks after everything was over. 
He had been excited about it, not only because he got to spend time with you but he was happy that you were graduating. He was taking it seriously, making reservations and finding the best outfit to go with yours, making sure everything was planned how you wanted it…
And then duty called. 
You were upset, not knowing whether or not he’d be back in time, but eventually you came to terms with it. Judging by the texts Simon had sent you since then, he hadn’t come to terms with it, declaring that he would be there no matter what, even when you assured him it was okay.
You determined from his silence that he was still there. 
It hurt but that was the price to pay. Sometimes he’d miss out on important stuff with you because of work, that was life when you loved someone in his profession, but it made it all worth it because it was Simon.
He had left just two months ago and you assumed he wouldn’t be back for a few more.
Your row got up and you walked towards the stage. It almost didn’t feel real that you were graduating, that after all the hardships you had with your classes that it was finally over and that you were more prepared for life than before.
You could at least share it with Simon when he got back.
Your name was announced and as you stepped up to get your diploma you heard loud cheering which made you jump. You and everyone looked around for the source, everyone else clapped and gave maybe small whoops, but this was cheering you’d hear at a football game.
Tears welled up in your eyes and a grin stretched across your face when you saw them.
All of them, Simon, Price, John and Kyle were in the crowd. Simon held a bouquet of flowers and waved to you as if you couldn’t pick him out within the crowd of families who were mostly quiet. 
But that didn’t stop you from waving back to him, showing him your diploma with a chest full of pride that made you beam brightly at him. You felt even happier when he raised his fist, cheering louder for you.
It took everything in you to not run over to him. You still had to go through the ceremony and weren’t sure if the professors would be too happy if you ran out before it was over. That didn’t stop you from constantly peeking over your shoulder at him with anticipation, just waiting for the moment that you were allowed to go.
When it was over, you practically sprinted to them. You barely gave Simon enough to make sure you didn’t crush the flowers before you threw yourself on top of him, holding onto him with a tight grip as you blinked back tears.
Simon held you back just as tight. He let out a heavy sigh of relief and he nearly melted into your arms. He chuckled lowly and gave you a quick squeeze before  you slipped out of his grasp to look at him.
“You’re here!” You pulled back and drank him in.
He was wearing a mask to cover the lower half of his face but you didn’t catch any bruises or scrapes anywhere on the uncovered spots of his face. He stood perfectly fine like the rest of them and watched you with soft eyes so full of love that your smile grew bigger when he leaned closer to you.
He was alive and well, and now he was back here with you.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Simon said softly while he offered you the flowers and your heart swelled as you took them.
You let out a soft thank, so overwhelmed with emotions you weren’t sure how to process or handle them. All you could do was hold the flowers, try not to tear up and stare at Simon with every ounce of pure love you had within you. You had half the mind to pull him down for a kiss or to not let go of him, but you had to tell yourself that you were in public.
You settled on holding his hand which he seemed to gratefully take because you held onto it with a firm grip.
It could wait until you both got back to your shared apartment.
“We should celebrate.” Price spoke up and you nodded. “I’ll pay.”
Kyle and John cheered while you laughed. You tried to tell him he didn’t have to but he wasn’t hearing it, quickly dismissing any of your worries that it would be too much or that he didn’t have to since there was no reason for it. 
When you looked at Simon for help he only shrugged before he leaned in close to your ear.
“I’ll pay for us.” 
“That’s not any better!”
He chuckled and squeezed your hand. His eyes twinkled when you gave him an exasperated look before he pressed a quick kiss to your temple through the mask. He pulled you close and kept your hand in his while you all walked to the parking lot where you’d decide to go to dinner.
You spent the entirety of dinner catching up, but mostly just staring at Simon who seemed to stare back at you just as much. 
It hadn’t been long, not nearly as long as the many other times he had left for work, yet it was just the same as always. Every moment with him gone hurt but once he got back you felt so much better knowing that not only was he alive but that he had come back. It made every second worth it.
You could tell that he was feeling the same. His hand barely left yours and when it did he rested it on your thigh, his eyes never once losing their look of pride when he looked over at you. He seemed to have fallen head over heels for you again and you sure he would tell you just that if you said something.
You’d be lying if you said that you also hadn’t fallen in love with him again. 
You did it every day.
You all parted ways after dinner, but not without the promise of drinks sometime later in the week and possibly other times where you all got to hang out. 
“How do you feel?” Simon wondered as the two of you walked to your car.
“It honestly hasn’t set in yet.” You told him truthfully. You hadn’t really accepted that you had graduated and didn’t need to go to classes anymore. You were back to the way things were before you enrolled in the university, older and a little more wise, but not much different. At least you knew how to transition into a full time job. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Good or bad?”
You glanced at him, noticing the slight worry in his eyes. You gave him a small smile however and leaned your head against his shoulder.
“Good.”
Simon helped you in the car and playfully took the keys from you. On the drive back to the apartment, he kept his hand on your knee and you kept your hand on top of his.
“You know,” You caught his attention as you gave him a knowing look. “My job doesn’t start for another couple weeks or so.”
“Yeah?” He mumbled and squeezed your leg.
You hummed and a smug smile pulled at your lips. You slid his hand a little further up your leg and watched as his grip tightened on the wheel. You had to suppress a laugh when he let out a short huff, knowing full well what you were doing.
“Yeah…and I don’t have anything planned. Which means I’m all yours.”
Simon grunted and you bit your lip. Anyone else would’ve thought he was being dismissive, but you knew him too well. You could see the light blush on the tips of his ears and judging by the way he shifted in his seat you knew he was starting to get hard.
If he wasn’t flustered you were sure he’d lightly scold you for making him that way.
The drive back to the apartment was quicker than normal and the two of you rushed to get inside.
Your new apartment was smaller than the last but no less homey. You and Simon could be found everywhere and in every corner, the place completely lived in and inviting. There was only one bedroom and the bathroom was too small for both of you to be in there at the same time but it was home.
The door didn’t even close behind the two of you before Simon had his hands on your hips. He ripped the mask off and kissed you tenderly, capturing your lips in his as he pulled you into his chest. He didn’t give you a chance to breathe while his hands roamed your body, feeling you as if he were mapping out your body for the first time.
You kissed him back just as fervently, clutching onto him and letting out soft moans that made him kiss you harder. You barely had enough time to set the flowers down without harming them before he was peeling your outfit off you.
He left hot kisses across your neck down to your chest, kissing the dog tags he gave you. You let out a gasp when he sucked a mark on your breast before he very gently pushed you down on the couch. He hovered above you, pinning you down onto the cushions and let you tug him forward into another kiss.
“Been too long. I missed you.” He breathed into your mouth desperately and you hummed.
“I missed you too.” You gasped again when he pushed his finger past your wet folds. 
Simon swallowed your moans as he rubbed circles into your clit. The rough pads of his fingertips were almost too much after not being touched by him for weeks but the electric waves of pleasure that ran through you stopped any chance for you to protest, as if you would anyway.
His other hand held your face and he kissed you tenderly. He continued to steal the air out of your lungs, making you feel like you were floaty. When he began to pump two fingers inside, you let out a loud whine.
“I thought about you everyday.” He kissed underneath your jaw and curled his fingers, brushing them against the spot that had your entire body twitching. “Thought about what I’d do when I saw you again, how proud I’d be.”
“Simon!” You moaned when he began to play with your clit again.
His fingers moved in and out of you quickly while he kept a steady pace on your sensitive bud. 
You held onto his arms as you felt yourself clench around his fingers, the band in your stomach pulling tighter while your toes curled. It was impossible for you to breathe while whimpers and moans escaped your lips, small pleas for him to keep going falling off your tongue. 
The band snapped unexpectedly and your eyes fluttered shut while you clenched around his fingers. You whimpered as he kept going, unable to catch your breath while he kissed your neck.
“Need you.” You whined while you still twitched from your orgasm.
“M’right here, love.” He said breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of you.
Simon wasted no time unbuckling his jeans, pushing them down far enough to let his cock out. He pumped it a few times, the red and dripping precume before he lined it up with your wet cunt.
You gasped and moaned when he slowly pushed in. The stretch of taking his length always made you clench and flutter around him, the slight pain eventually melting into pleasure enough for you to come on his cock before he even got it in fully.
He moaned from feeling you and his eyes going heavy as he watched him stretch you out. He went slow, just like he always did, and played with your clit to make you whine just a little more.
Before long he was fully seated inside you but didn’t move. 
You could barely breathe as you adjusted to his size, never fully able to, while he kept his thumb on your clit. You whimpered and placed a hand on his chest, noticing that he came home without a scratch and dug your nails into his flesh.
“Simon…” You begged softly, wiggling your hips to get him to move.
“Wanna make you feel good, love.” He said but grabbed your wrist and began to thrust.
You cried out when the head of his cock nudged the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You keened and arched your back into him as he rolled his hips against yours to keep a steady rhythm. 
Every thrust made your eyes heavy and he added pressure to your clit. He deepened his thrusts and you moaned his name loudly which only fueled the fire in his stomach.
You could feel yourself getting close again, already unable to keep away from the edge as he nearly bruised your cervix. You pulled him down and kissed him hard, holding his hand as you clenched around him again.
He sped up ever so slightly and you couldn’t breathe.
Your entire body tingling and you couldn’t speak. You rested your legs on his hips and he thrust into you until your eyes rolled back and your entire body shook. You could barely hear him moan as you fluttered around his cock before he began to thrust sloppily.
“My pretty girl.” He said proudly into your mouth. “My smart girl, ‘m so proud of you.” 
Simon grabbed the back of your knees and pushed your legs towards your chest. He groaned and you writhed underneath him, the pleasure too much as you still rode the waves of your second orgasm. 
You came again unexpectedly and he cummed inside of you with a strained moan. You whimpered as you felt his cock twitch inside you, filling you up and spreading warmth across your lower abdomen.
He thrust inside you a few more times before he nearly collapsed on top of you. He rested his head against your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you.
The two of you laid there to catch your breath, leaving small kisses across each other’s skin while you played with the hair on his neck that had gotten a tad longer than when he left.
When he pulled away you beamed up at him and got a smile in return. The hormones were slowly slipping away but that didn’t stop the elation in your heart as you stared up at him as if this was the first time you were seeing him today.
“Welcome home.” You traced his nose and he kissed your hand. “I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I have to keep up with the tradition!”
He scoffed but conceded and rested his forehead on yours, pulling you into an embrace that you gratefully accepted.
You spent the rest of the evening catching up and sharing soft touches, slowly riling each other up a couple more times before it was time to go to bed. While he took a shower, after you since he insisted, you went through your nightly routine of making sure the apartment was secured.
It was a habit you formed not long after moving here, one both you and Simon kept up because of what happened. You went first, going around to all of the windows to make sure they were locked and closed, shutting the curtains to them, before you checked the lock on the door, always doubling locking it. Then Simon would check after you, not because he didn’t have faith in you, but for his own sake. 
Just as you were about to shut off the TV, the news caught your attention.
“International threat and now former commander of the Konni Group Vladamir Makarov has been reported killed today. The Ultranationalist was responsible for multiple terrorist attacks across multiple countries and now his body is being recovered by the US government…”
You watched the news put up a picture of the man. You remembered well of the few attacks that had taken place far from you but that caused an uproar on the international scale two months ago. You remembered the sinking feeling in your stomach, knowing in the back of your mind that Ghost had been there risking his life again to catch him.
You thought about how he might be dead, how he might’ve gotten injured. How many close calls he had and if he ever thought that he wouldn’t be able to see you again.
Now he was dead…
“Love.” Simon caught your attention and you looked over at him.
He had a serious look on his face as he glanced at the TV for a moment. An almost silent conversation occurred between the two of you when he looked back at you, his dark eyes saying enough about the situation, before he gestured towards the bedroom.
“Let’s go to bed.”
You turned the TV off and walked towards him, bringing him into a short embrace where you placed a quick peck on his cheek.
“I’m glad you’re home.” 
You’re not sure what time it was when your eyes snapped open. It was still dark out and the silence outside told you it had to be in the middle of the night. It took you a moment to come to your senses, your heart racing just a little faster as you came down from the nightmare you just had, to realize that you were in your shared bedroom.
You took a deep breath and that was when you noticed the comforting circles being drawn on your arm.
You turned over and met Simon’s eyes in the darkness. You weren’t sure if you had woken him up with your nightmare or if he had one of his own, but neither of you said anything.
You rolled over and he immediately opened his arms to you. Before long you were cuddled into his side, your head on top of his chest while he wrapped a protective arm around you, starting his ministrations again once you were settled. 
The two of you laid in silence for a while. You drank up each other’s presence in the stillness, slowly waiting for the tense feelings to dissipate into peacefulness before either of you decided to go back to sleep. 
Your eyes were on the door, on the heavy laundry basket you put in front of it to keep anyone from coming in. 
The fear of the man coming back was mostly gone, he had been dealt with a long time ago, but it didn’t feel right to keep the door unblocked. You were grateful that Simon let you do it even though there were some nights when you didn’t need it at all. 
You shut your eyes and listened to his steady heart beat, feeling you slowly rise up and down from his breathing. 
“What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?” 
“...What?”
“Sofishticated.”
You giggled, hiding your face in his chest as he let out a chuckle. He hugged you closer and you felt him press a soft kiss to your temple on the spot where your scar was. 
When your giggling fit was over you looked up at him.
“Did you memorize the book again?” You mumbled, not wanting to break the silence.
“Yes.” He mumbled back with a small smile. “You gave me a new one, had to.”
You shook your head with disbelief, a smile spread across your face as you snuggled closer into him, pressing a kiss to his chest as you did so. Your hand found the scar on his torso and you ran your fingers across it, causing him to tense up underneath your touch.
Another scar added to the others. More pain he had gone through and yet he was still here. 
Simon traced the scar on your temple with his thumb and you wondered if he thought the same thing. If he thought about the pain that you now carried but  that you were still here.
The pain would only lessen, it would never go away but that didn’t scare you. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and you knew things would continue to change, but the one constant was that he was always by your side and you were always by his. 
Suddenly the tension was gone.
“We’re still alive.” You thought out loud after another moment of silence.
“Yeah.” He breathed out. “We are.”
You sat up and he did as well.
You took his face into your hands, holding him gently as you caressed his cheek with your thumb, touching the scar close to his eye as you stared into him with a hopeless amount of love that seemed to consume your entire being. 
He placed his hands on your hips and stared at you with soft eyes full of the same deep all consuming love that you felt. 
“I love you.” He said barely above a whisper.
“I love you too.” You replied back just as softly.
In the darkness you kissed. It was slow and gentle, warm and comforting. All of the fear you had poured out and turned into nothing as you held each other. There was nothing there but the two of you, no threats and no one to bother you as you laid in the sanctuary of each other's arms.
Like every night you two went to sleep knowing that the other would be there, ready to start a new day.
The End
link to masterlist
A/n: don’t worry, their story isn’t over yet but we’ll let them rest for now ❤️ (i hope this wasn't too disappointing of an ending I tried to make it emotional and i got emotional writing but idk if that translated well anyway hope you guys liked it first time finishing a series like this haha)
tags: @kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazingx @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @mavieemav @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Text
The SafeWord is RadioApple (a tidbit epilogue to part 3)
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@readergirlstuff
You rested your cheek on the bar, hangover in full effect but the cool wood was calming the headache.
“Sooo, who wears the pants in this triangle of horrors.” Angel leaned back against the bar, watching Lucifer and Alastor glare at each other from separate armchairs.
“Now that’s a dumb question.” Husk shook his head.
“Okay if it’s so obvious then you tell me.”
Husk put his hands up defensively, “Not stupid because it’s obvious, but because only an idiot would piss off the cruelest overlord and the king of hell with one sentence.”
“The king is always going to come out on top.” Luci smiled directly at Alastor.
“Funny, you spent your night on your back.” Alastor rose his newspaper to block out the view of Luci.
“Who am I to deny one of my people the chance to serve their majesty?”
Alastor cackled, wiping tears from his eyes, “Serve? You were literally begging for my-“
“YOU ASKED ME TO!” Horns fully grown, on his feet.
“You sounded like you meant it.” Alastor’s body grew to twice his size, antlers hitting the bar’s overhang as static cut in and out of his voice.
“Enough! Shh. Quiet.” You pulled a napkin over your head to block out the bright lights. “I need you both to shut the fuck up for like, 5 minutes.”
Both men stilled, returning to their seats. Lucifer scrolled on his phone, sheepish. Alastor returned to his paper.
Angel tapped the bar, “Not so obvious, was it, whiskers.”
“Damn.” Husk shook his head.
“Kiss kiss love you sorry,” you offered, a pang of guilt for being so rude to them. Especially in front of others. You knew you’d have to make amends later.
Lucifer perked up, eyes wide and shining, “did you say-?”
Alastor’s smile nearly dropped, an unseen audience awwing over the radio static as he accidentally ripped the newspaper in half, “what was that now?”
Fuck.
A little tidbit of:
⟢Lucifer x Reader x Alastor - The Safeword is RadioApple smut💦
Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
3/30 Just realized I didn’t tag the cult and this will be referenced in the next part soooo
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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brabblesblog · 5 months
Text
They will never be you.
A small drabble set post-Cazador, pre-epilogue.
What if Astarion’s not the only insecure one in the relationship?
Angsty-ish with a happy ending. Enjoy!
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
The drow who was now half draped over his arm was stunning.
You watch from across the room, your dinner half-eaten and abandoned, as he smirks at her and not so coyly puts his hand over her knee. Part of you wants to just storm over and ask him what the hell he was playing at, but the larger part of you thinks that this was to be expected.
After all, how was someone like you expected to match up to someone like him? Someone who turned heads wherever he went, who without any conscious effort stole the hearts of whoever was foolish enough to look at him for too long?
And you? You’re just you. You’ve never turned heads. You were never first choice.
Sure, he had chosen you. But really, weren’t you chosen because of circumstance? You were his first. You had chosen to protect him. You had saved him. How can you not be chosen?
You like to think you were special because you had seen beyond his physical beauty. Had loved him for more than that. However, you know it could have been anyone. Anyone in your position could have also done the same thing.
You weren’t chosen. You just happened to be there.
The slam of your mug down on the table makes everyone stop what they’re doing and look over at you. It would be embarrassing, if you weren’t so consumed with your thoughts.
“I’m retiring for the night. If Astarion looks for me, let him know.”
With that, you leave your half-eaten food and rise from the table, leaving all of your companions stunned.
The only companion not on the table however, misses it. He’s still hand in hand with the drow, whispering into her ear.
The door to your room opens an hour or so later, snapping you out of your nap. You glare as he steps in, and to your surprise and extreme annoyance, he looks giddy.
“Darling, the others told me you left early! You missed-“
Astarion narrowly dodges the shoe you throw at his head. He blinks, the grin slowly disappearing off of his face.
“What’s wrong?”
You stand, trying to not show any sign of the internal anguish you feel.
“I know you’re a bastard, but you could have at least broken up with me or said something before you start picking someone else up in front of my face!”
He blinks, then realization dawns on his expression. He moves quickly, and in a second he’s right by you. He offers you his hands, keeping them close but not pushing to touch you.
“It’s not- that’s not what it was,” he says quietly. “I thought you’d know I was putting on an act.”
“Act or not - it hurts.”
A moment to steel yourself. You don’t really want to open this can of worms, but it needs to happen.
“Look. If you’re done with this. Us. You could just say so, like a normal person,” you say, the sound of defeat inevitably present in your tone.
“And why would you think that?” Comes the reply. He moves to sit by you on the bed. “I trusted you to know that it was just an act. I saw something, and wanted to have it.”
Your mind goes to the worst possible option, naturally.
“Well, did you have it? Did you have her, then?”
With Cazador’s death, Astarion had began to rediscover his sexuality and reclaim it. You are happy for him, of course, but now you wonder if he’s shopping around for better options than you.
He laughs at your words. It is a little incredulous.
“If I wasn’t talking to you, love, I would have thought you insecure,” he begins, but as he finishes his sentence the truth hits him: you are.
You’ve always been the calm, collected one to him. You’ve always seemed so secure and so sure of your relationship. He was the insecure one. He was always frightened of the day you’d realize you could find better.
Now he sees the truth you’ve never really let slip.
He takes a deep breath, unsure how to approach this. Then, he digs inside his pocket and quickly shows you what he has in there. An aquamarine ring, set in an intricately carved band.
“I spotted this the moment we walked into the inn. And I had to have it,” he murmurs in a very different tone. “I got it for you.”
You exhale roughly, and pick up the ring from his hand. “So you decided stealing it by flirting with the drow was how you’re going to show your love?”
It felt ridiculous, but when was he not?
He chuckes. “That was the idea. The execution could have gone a bit more smoothly.” He figures he should have told you of his plan, but then again, would you have even agreed? And he did so want to give you something nice.
You are silent for a few moments, and then you nod.
“All forgiven, then. Just let me know next time.” You’d rather just sweep everything under the rug, since you were proven wrong. And you don’t really want him prying into..
“Did you think I was going to replace you, darling?”
Shit. You wince. “Yes.”
The truth needs to be said. You face him. “Look. I’m just me. I’m your.. whatever I am, because I was there. Had it been anyone else, then it would have been them. I’m-“
“Does it matter who was there? Who was first, who was not? I agree. It could have been someone else. But it wasn’t. It was you.” Astarion shakes his head. “And that is the end of it.”
“And if one day, you tire of me? If you realize you could have a more beautiful, more desirable partner who would also understand and love the real you? If you realize that you could literally have the most beautiful-“
Your words die as lips are pressed against yours, insistent but not rough. He pulls away.
“I needed to shut you up,” he says. “You’re speaking nonsense about my darling, and I will not have it.”
“I’m not special,” you hiss, at last finally managing to get the words out. This venomous thought had been in the back of your mind ever since you had gotten together, but was only voiced now. It was never just him who was insecure about the relationship.
“Right you are,” he acquiesces, “but neither is anyone else.”
“No one deserves better. We aren’t owed anything.” This he knows from experience. His hand finds yours, and takes the ring back. He holds it between thumb and forefinger, peering at it.
“But you are the one who was put in my path, darling. You’re the one I love. None of those other what ifs matter,” he adds, his hand taking yours and slipping the ring on.
You glance down at the ring and sigh. It is indeed, gorgeous.
“I won’t find someone better. Someone younger. Someone- whatever-“ he waves a hand dismissively.
“One, we’ll find a way for you to live forever. Two-“ and he holds up a hand.
“They will never be you.”
Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
Text
Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]
Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.
🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]
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“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.
He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 
“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”
You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.
‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.
‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.
Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.
‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’
‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’
So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.
Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.
“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.
“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.
“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.
“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”
“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”
“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”
You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.
“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”
The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.
“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”
“Two weeks?!” you wailed.
Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”
“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.
“Ace!”
The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.
“That is acceptable.”
Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.
“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”
You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.
“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  
There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.
“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”
“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”
‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’
“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.
Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.
“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”
Your life flashed before your eyes.
“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.
“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”
.
.
The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.
“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.
He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.
You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.
He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.
There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  
“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.
“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”
The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.
However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.
You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…
An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.
“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”
He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  
You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.
“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"
.
.
The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.
“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.
He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”
Oh for fucks sake.
Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.
“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”
He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”
“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”
He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.
“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”
He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.
The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.
But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.
“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”
He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.
“You don’t find it pleasing.”
Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—
“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.
“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”
The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.
“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.
Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.
“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.
“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.
You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.
“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”
“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”
You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.
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burntheedges · 5 months
Text
Maintenance Request
main post & chapter list | 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 word count: 88.6k
Joel Miller x f!reader | complete 🧡
summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence - he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him. 
There’s no way there could be something more there.
Right?
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full fic tags/warnings: academia AU, modern AU, one-sided enemies-to-lovers, no outbreak, live music, fluff, banter, everyone is alive, misunderstandings, ex boyfriend who was manipulative and a jerk (only mentioned), no use of y/n, pet names (darlin, gorgeous, honey, baby, sweetheart), later: smut, kissing, grinding, frottage, p in v sex, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), creampie, somnophilia, phone sex, semi-public sex; each chapter will have its own tags a/n: this fic is completely finished! It was my 2023 NaNo project. I’ll post a new chapter every Friday. There are 23 chapters and an epilogue. There is eventually quite a bit of smut, but it’s going to take us a little while to get there. Mind the tags (for the whole fic above and for each chapter). That “one-sided enemies-to-lovers” tag was the motivation for the whole fic — what if only one of you thinks you’re enemies? And here we are. Chapters with smut are marked with *. The dates in each chapter are from a fictional fall semester, 2024. Shoutout to @fanatictypist for reading this and encouraging me 💕 and to the PPCU server. note about reader: in this fic you’re a college professor, vaguely of English literature and poetry. You like live music, you like to read, and Ellie is your niece. You have a best friend named Beth, a sister who is having a rough time, and a difficult mother. I’ve avoided physical descriptions and most clothing descriptions, except when plot-relevant. You are vaguely shorter than Joel. No age is specified, but I imagined 36-year-old Joel here (and 14-year-old Sarah), and most English PhDs wouldn’t get to this type of position until they were 28 or 29 at the earliest, even if they went to grad school right out of undergrad. So you can imagine reader any age from there to mid-30s, or whatever you want, really. 
* = chapter contains smut
Come celebrate the end with me with some fun asks! Ch 23 goes up 5/17 and the epilogue 5/24.
Chapter List
Chapter 1 | 2.4k Wednesday, September 4, second week of the semester
Chapter 2 | 2.4k | preview Friday, September 6, second week of the semester
Chapter 3 | 2.4k | preview Monday, September 16, fourth week of the semester, Friday, September 20, fourth week of the semester
Chapter 4 | 1.8k | preview Interlude
Chapter 5 | 3.4k | preview Friday, September 27, fifth week of the semester Saturday, September 28, fifth week of the semester Monday, September 30, sixth week of the semester
Chapter 6 | 2.1k | preview Wednesday, October 2, sixth week of the semester
Chapter 7 | 2.4k | preview Wednesday, October 9, seventh week of the semester
Chapter 8 | 2.7k | preview Monday, October 14, eighth week of the semester
Chapter 9 | 3.4k | preview Tuesday, October 15, eighth week of the semester Thursday, October 17, eighth week of the semester Friday, October 18, eighth week of the semester Saturday, October 19, eighth week of the semester
Chapter 10 | 5k | preview Monday, October 21, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 11 | 2.4k| preview Tuesday, October 22, ninth week of the semester Thursday, October 24, ninth week of the semester Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 12 | 8.1k | preview * Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 13 | 9.3k | preview * Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester
Chapter 14 | 3.9k | preview Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 15 | 3.6k | preview Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester Sunday, October 27, ninth week of the semester
Chapter 16 | 5.8k | preview Tuesday, October 29, tenth week of the semester Friday, November 1, tenth week of the semester
Chapter 17 | 3.2k | preview * Saturday, November 2, tenth week of the semester Sunday, November 3, tenth week of the semester
Chapter 18 | 3.3k | preview * Monday, November 4, eleventh week of the semester
Chapter 19 | 7.6k | preview * Saturday, November 9, eleventh week of the semester Sunday, November 10, eleventh week of the semester
Chapter 20 | 3.3k | preview Saturday, November 16, twelfth week of the semester
Chapter 21 | 3.5k | preview * Friday, November 22, thirteenth week of the semester
Chapter 22 | 2k | preview Thursday, December 5, fifteenth week of the semester
Chapter 23 | 2.7k | preview * Friday, December 6, last day of classes 
Epilogue | 5/24
Drabbles & longer asks
Where would Joel and reader go on holiday together? from the MR ending celebration
Beth & Joel's first meeting asks, part 1 and part 2, from the MR ending celebration
Would they have kids? from the MR ending celebration
About their future adventures and how I got the idea for the fic, from the MR ending celebration
Some insight into ch2, the pile driver, and Trevor, from the MR ending celebration
Does Joel ever run into Matt? From the MR ending celebration
About Beth and Joel’s friendship, from the MR ending celebration
Coming soon: how Joel found the poem 😏
...
Moodboards
@sawymredfox made this moodboard and it’s amazing 😩 please go look at it 💕
@djarins-cyare made this wonderful moodboard, I love it so much -- please go look at it! 🧡💚
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stellar-skyy · 17 days
Text
♡ - LOST & FOUND - Platonic Arlecchino & reader
i. SUMMARY: Hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. ii. CWS & NOTES: description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. PLATONIC arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. iv. A/N: i am... so normal about parental arlecchino... so normal... i hope you enjoy because i loved writing this!! i have a little written for an epilogue featuring the lyntwins + freminet reuniting, so stay tuned for that ♡
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It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.
Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.
No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.
“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.
He always noticed.
“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.
“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”
“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”
“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.
“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”
“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”
It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.
Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.
“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.
She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”
“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”
“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.
“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.
Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.
As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.  
“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.
“Be quick.”
The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.
“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”
Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”
“No? Then why are you still here?”
He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare
“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.
Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”
It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”
Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”
“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.
“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”
“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.
“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”
“But—”
“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.
“Father—”
“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”
Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.
“I—”
“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”
Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.
“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.
“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”
-----
Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.
It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.
One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening—a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.
Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.
The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.
Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.
“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.
“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”
“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”
Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.
They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.
The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.
“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”
Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”
Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.
“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”
“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”
Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.
“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”
“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”
The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”
“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.
“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.
“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.
“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.
There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.
“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.
“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”
The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.
“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”
She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.
“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.
They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.
Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.
“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”
“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.
“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.
“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.
“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”
The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.
“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”
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reblogs are appreciated ♡
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writingsbychlo · 5 months
Text
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE | epilogue
summary; a year later, your bond with azriel is still going just as strong. new years eve with your mate couldn't be sweeter.
word count; 3171
notes; I know this was highly anticipated, and I'm sorry it's so short, but it is just an epilogue, not a full fic! I hope this isn't too disappointing to anyone! <3
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Staring out across the beautiful cityscape of Velaris, your eyes wandered across the twinkling lights of the town. From house to house, all over the city. The rainbow was lit up even more magnificently than usual tonight, celebrations so loud you could hear them from here if you strained your ear, cheers and singing and dancing, the revelry of happy people, finally celebrating in peace after so many years of darkness. 
Beyond them, snow-capped mountains glowed under the bright moonlight and the stars, the clear sky a lucky twist of fate, as though even the Heavens wanted to be here tonight, watching. Second to Starfall, New Year's was your favourite holiday. A chance for a fresh start, to reflect on everything, to make new plans or to wipe the slate clean. To watch fireworks explode in the cold night sky, glittering and beautiful. 
Taking a sip of Rhysand’s expensive champagne from the glass in your hand, you sighed happily. As you did, a pair of strong arms circled your waist, familiar hands smoothing over your stomach, and tugging you back into a firm chest. Warm lips fell to the crook of your neck as your head fell back on his shoulder, delicate kisses dotted along your shoulder. Dropping your free hand to clasp those around your body, you traced your fingers delicately over scarred skin, eyes slipped closed in his embrace. 
“Hello, my love.” His voice was a low murmur, deep in your ear and humming along your skin. 
“Hi, Azzy.”
Turning in his arms, you looped your hands carefully around his neck, his head bowing to meet your own as he finally stole a sweet, simple kiss for your lips. He tasted like whiskey and sugar, no doubt pumped full of candy Nyx forced him to try, the small boy having kept him hostage all night. Despite it, he’d never let you out of his sights, you’d barely been out here for ten minutes before Azriel had come to find you, following you like a puppy. 
Leaning in a little further, your tongue teased along his lower lip, and he let out a soft groan as he parted them. The kisses grew, his mouth sealing over your own, passion like it was the first kiss you’d ever shared all over again, not the thousandth. Tightening your hold on him, his wings fluttered, circling your body to close out the rest of the world as he hauled you in further, up against his chest. 
Your heart was thudding in time with his own, beating in sync like they had done for just over a year now. 
Only days ago, you’d celebrated your one-year anniversary, taking a few days up at the cabin and away from every, just the two of you, no clothes, and a lot of sleepless nights. The desperation might have died down, but the infatuation still remained as strong as ever. One look, one touch, one kiss was enough to drive you crazy. You were utterly at his mercy, him just as much at yours, and you truly hoped that the intensity between you both never faded. 
He pulled back with a sigh, one more final kiss left on your lips, before he was smiling, forehead on your own. “What are you doing out here, it’s cold.”
You couldn't hep but smirk at that, brows raising a little as you looked up at him. It certainly wasn’t the coldest you’d ever been, there wasn’t even a layer of goosebumps on your exposed skin. But, he had always been a worrier, and your mate bond only seemed to enhance that, even now. “Just… thinking, that’s all.”
“Good thoughts, I hope?” He leaned in, a peck to your lips before you could even respond, and you smiled, stealing another one when he pulled back. 
“Thoughts about us.” your nose bumped his as you leaned up. You tipped your head further, pecking the tip of his nose, and he smiled sweetly. His cheeks flushed with a little warmth, the same way they always did when you gave him this kind of attention, a happy sound escaping him at that affection. 
“Care to share any of these thoughts?”
“All in due time,” You whisper in response, and he merely grunts, “Just thinking about the future.”
“I do that a lot too.”
You knew as much, Azriel had a habit of telling you. When you’d get in bed at night, his head on your chest, all the weight of him grounding you to the mattress as you played with the soft, dark curls atop his head, he’d spill about his day. All the thoughts he’d had, the jokes Cassian had told him, the things that reminded him of you, and his plans. His ideas, even the goofy ones that he knew he wouldn't actually do. 
There wasn’t a thing he ever wanted to keep to himself, and you liked to soak up every part of him that you could. 
The music from inside could reach you, even out here, a band playing beautiful songs and together, the two of you began to sway. No talk was needed but your body moved with his, your feet staying planted as you danced together gently, wrapped in one another’s embrace. His face dipped down, burying into your neck again, and he sighed happily onto your skin. 
The moment was perfect… only broken when Azriel received a small shove. 
Untangling yourselves, he glanced around, gaze dropping to the ground, to see a moody toddler, arms crossed. “Uncle Az, you said we were going to colour in my book!”
Azriel gave you an exasperated look, pressing a final kiss to your cheek, before stepping back. Leaning down, he scooped Nyx up under his arms, lifting him up into his arms. The small boy’s wings batted angrily, portraying his emotions. He truly as a little lordling, always used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. 
“Alright, little bat. Come on.” Your mate sighed, adjusting the boy to sit on his hip and stepping towards the door. You watched them go, a small smile on your lips, and he turned back to look at you. “Don’t stay out here too long, love.”
You shook your head, offering your hand to him as you walked forward. His smile grew, and he took your fingers, linking them with his own and raising your clasped hands to kiss your knuckles. Leading you both inside, Nyx babbled on about the drawings he and Az would be colouring in, you were pointedly not invited at any stage of events as you made your way back to the ballroom, and Azriel rolled his eyes fondly when the youngster wasn’t looking. 
Stepping back into the bustle of the room, you glanced around, gasping happily when you spotted a familiar face and two heads of white hair in the crowd. 
Azriel only chuckled, releasing your hand and motioning for you to go, before dropping Nyx down and being led away by the hand. 
Darting through the people, Vivianne saw you just in time, a squeal on her lips as she opened her arms for you to fly into. The two of you collided gently, arms wrapping tightly around one another. 
You cupped her face, kissing both of her cheeks as she smiled, all but bouncing as you were reunited. You’d kept in touch all year, letters going back and forth so fast you could hardly keep up with them, but for one reason or another, you’d yet to have crossed paths again, life always getting in the way. Until now. 
“You’re here, you made it!”
Pulling back from her, Kallias grinned, laughing as he swept you up into a hug, your feet leaving the floor momentarily with his enthusiasm. 
“Oh, I missed you both, so much! I can’t believe it’s been a year, already.” For more than one reason, the time had flown, not just missing your friends or your time with Azriel, but so many things had taken place. “We cannot let so long go by again.”
Vivianne clutched your hands as her husband released you, her forehead coming to your own as she giggled. “We will make it our new resolutions to make it so. Besides, it should be an exciting year, we don’t want to miss a thing.”
You cocked a brow at her statement, but she didn’t expand, not as Mor was rushing over in excitement too, greeting both of them herself, and then Kallias was excusing himself as Rhysand and Helion beckoned him over. Vivianne linked her arm with your own, Mor on the other side, and turned to face you with a smirk as the blonde guided your trio through the room. 
Gathering in the kitchen, a private break away from all the noise, Mor set about preparing drinks, handing them out to you all. Vivianne smiled, cheers-ing with you both, and Mor took a heavy chug from her own as you sipped at yours. 
“Jeez, Mor! What did you put in this?” The burn of alcohol down your throat had the ice queen chuckling, putting her drink down and nudging it away from herself. 
“It’s New Year’s Eve, don’t be a buzzkill!” She chuckled, taking another gulp from her glass as though it were water. 
“I heard Mor is pouring, does that mean we’re getting fucked up?” Nesta slipped into the room, and the blonde cheered excitedly as someone matched her energy, Feyre and Elain following, arm in arm, as the youngest sister rolled her eyes. 
“Looks like Cassian will be carrying someone back home later, before the clock even strikes midnight.” Feyre tutted, but accepted a drink nonetheless as Mor poured them and began to distribute them. 
“What’s the point of having a great, big, hulking boyfriend if not to carry me home when I have fun?”
“Now that I can cheers to,” You grin, tapping your glass on her own, and she smirked. Elain laughed lightly, lifting herself onto the counter, and swinging her legs as she clutched her cup between both hands, wincing as she took that first sip. “Don’t worry, it burns your tastebuds right off after that first taste, now you won’t taste anything else for weeks.”
She giggled at Mor’s scoff, taking a sip, and the six of you gathered around into a tighter group as hushed discussion took over. 
Nesta made sure to fill everyone in on herself and Cassian. The two had no plans to truly settle down anytime soon, far too busy battling and playing with swords to even consider a child. They were going to travel some more this year, Nesta wanted to visit every Court, and while Cassian unfortunately couldn't visit them all, whether it was allergies or laws that kept him barred, he was happy to oblige for most Courts. The Winter Court became the first on her list, when Viv promised her a stay like no other, any time they wanted. 
The High Lord and Lady were battling that stage of ‘terrible twos’ with Nyx. He was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between loving mama or loving dada more, but never both. One was always the enemy. He was also jumping between desperate for a sibling, pleading and begging and fighting as he checked every Solstice box for a baby brother, and deciding if he ever saw another child in his life he’d throw a fit. Feyre had a perpetual headache, and Rhys was at the end of his tether, but both had never been happier,
Elain and Lucien were skipping between here and the human lands, repairing bonds as their bond grew ever stronger, giving Elain the perfect mixed life she’d always dreamt of. Mor and Emerie were moving into their own home, and bickering every single day on how to decorate. 
Then, there was you and Azriel.
Vivianne had chosen to avoid Mor’s attempt on everyone’s lives and had found herself something else to drink. Sipping through the straw coyly, she eyed you, and you waited. “So, you and your Az looked sweet, walking in with baby Nyx. Sweeter with your own baby on his hip, I’m sure.”
You sighed at her, raising your brows, even with the smile growing on your lips. “Not anytime soon.”
“And why not?” She pressed, her hands on her hips like your declaration had ruined her life. 
“Because… we’re taking things slow.” Stirring your drink, you stared happily into the swirling alcohol, smiling to yourself as you thought of your lover. “Took us long enough to get together, we figured we have time to savour every step.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled in that sisterly way you loved so much. “Well, alright. I can allow that. Not too slowly, I hope.”
“You’re impatient!”
“I’m excited!” She clarified, and you grinned into the rim of your glass, taking a sip. 
“And, where exactly are your little icicles, hm? You and Kallias have been together longer than Az and I.”
Instead of sniping back, and utterly lovestruck, wondrous expression passed over her features. She smoothed a hand over her stomach, and your own flew to your mouth as you gasped. “Well…” She whispered, shrugging bashfully at the shriek you made. 
“You’re serious?” Discarding your drink to the nearest surface, you rushed to her, and she lifted her bulky winter sweater. You hadn't suspected a thing before, but now, as she revealed her stomach, you could see the slight bump forming. She took your wrist, lifting your hand, and your eyes watered as you looked between her face and your hand on her warm skin. “I can’t believe it!”
Everyone crowded in, then. A thousand questions were being fired at the elated new mother-to-be, who was happy to answer every single one, showing off the bump she was beginning to grow. 
Nyx would get that new playmate after all, taking a little of the weight off of Feyre and Rhys, with an heir to the Winter Court at last. Stepping back to let everyone else have their moment too, you leaned back on the counter, smiling at the love and excitement surrounding you at every turn. 
A tugging on the bond pulled your attention away, and a haze fell over everything as the feeling in your chest sharpened to full focus. Smiling to yourself, you rubbed absently at the spot where you could feel your love. Tugging back, the thread between you both vibrated contentedly, and you could feel his happy hum on your skin, the trace of phantom arms around your waist.
“Needy thing, your mate, isn’t he?” Feyre’s voice sliced through the bubble, and she was leaning on the counter beside you. “Do you think it’s an Illyrian thing?”
“Hmm.” You smirked, “Potentially. I can barely get a moment away before he’s pulling along the rope to find me.” You made sure the notion reached him, a warning burst reaching your chest, teasing and light, like a nip to the shell of your ear, and you shuddered. 
“Let’s go find our needy Illyrians, hm?” Her arm laced through your own, following the steps Nesta had not long taken. 
Hidden in the back of the room, Rhysand was spread across a couch, his son sleepily yawning in his lap as he tried to stay awake, while Azriel and Cassian both sat in the low-backed armchairs before the roaring fire. He never had to glance up to feel you coming, raising a hand to his shoulder at the same time you reached out to him, leaning over the chair from behind and kissing the top of his head. 
He pulled you around the chair and across his lap, nuzzling at your cheek as needy kisses trailed from your cheek to your mouth, and you grinned, turning to face him and rewarding him with a single kiss. He didn’t seem too satisfied with that, a glint in his eyes promising more was to come, but he let you adjust comfortably across him. 
“What did you ladies talk about?”
“I can’t tell you that, Az, or it wouldn't be girl talk, would it?” Your words had his eyes narrowing, calculated gaze fixed on you, “What did you boys talk about?”
“Can’t tell you that, baby, or it wouldn't be guy talk.” He retorted, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your jaw in his hand as a response, twisting your smushed face back to him and kissing you. He was smirking as he pulled back, leaning in close enough to share breath. “Kal and Viv, right?”
You caved to his charms, smiling as you shared the same space, wrapped up in him, “Mhm.”
He only smiled, nothing more needing to be said between the pair of you. 
“Viv asks when it’ll be us. Says we looked good walking in, hand in hand, Nyx on your hip.” Azriel’s eyes snapped open, straightening up as he put several inches between you both. Your hand smoothed up his chest, settling on his neck, trying to suppress your laughter. His pulse raced under your palm, your hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. “Relax, Azzy. I told her how we’re taking things slow, at our own pace.”
“But— But… I mean— It’s not like I’m opposed to it, but—” He sputtered over his words, and you kissed him silent, his shaky kisses returned with vigour, the trembling bond between you both settling steadily again. 
“We have things to do first, I’m in no rush to move through our milestones. I want you all to myself, for a little while longer.” You pulled him back in, kissing across his cheek, lips travelling to his ear, “And when I say that, I mean it.”
Despite it being whispered, Rhysand still hurled a mental stone at your walls, snickering to himself at your gasp as he eavesdropped on your private dig at him. Turning around, you glared, flipping him off mentally. He smirked, sipping his drink and patting his son between the wings as the small boy slumped asleep over his thighs. 
Turning away, you sealed yourself back into the haze with Azriel, his mouth travelling along your jaw, your head tipped back.
“Must we really wait until midnight before I can kiss you properly, Azzy?”
“I suppose, we could be early for once in our lives. Kiss me now, we’ll pretend it’s midnight.” He whispered, a lazy smile on his face when you looked at him. He was so beautiful, the man who owned your heart was like a work of art, watching you with such sweet love that it made you want to melt. 
“I love you, Azriel.” You whispered onto his lips, lessening the gap between you both, and a content sound rumbled free from his chest. 
“I love you, my dear. To another year, another decade, century, with you.”
“To forever, together.” You finalised, and he nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as a flood of his emotions overwhelmed you from your words. 
“Forever sounds like a wonderful place to start.”
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roosterforme · 9 months
Text
Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Seventeen and a half years later...
"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest. 
"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"
"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."
Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."
"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache. 
"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"
You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."
"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace." 
Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.
"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."
"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."
"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."
"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand. 
With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter. 
"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."
A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.
"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement. 
"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.
"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."
"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.
WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?
by Harrison Boyd
June 27, 2039
From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping. 
When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."
Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"
You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."
Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.
So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"
"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."
"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."
"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."
While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."
During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher. 
It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."
The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."
Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."
"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."
When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."
When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."
Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."
You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder. 
"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."
You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."
So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.
When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."
Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team. 
If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids. 
"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."
"I'm ready."
Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.
You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."
"Okay, Coach."
When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."
"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago. 
"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"
"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it. 
"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."
But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"
"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."
The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."
"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. 
"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."
"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."
"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.
Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him. 
Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"
Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."
"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.
As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."
You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.
"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."
Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."
"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.
"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?" 
"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."
His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."
"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."
And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.
"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"
"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."
"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"
"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."
"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."
"He did," you confirmed for Everett.
"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."
"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday." 
But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement. 
"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"
Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."
"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.
"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."
Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."
So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family. 
Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."
Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"
He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"
------------------------------
Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
Still want more? Read Draft Day!
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performativezippers · 7 months
Text
fanfic writer habits i've had to unlearn when trying to traditionally publish original work
a list in no particular order in case you're curious
starting sentences with "And"
so. many. one sentence. paragraphs. like, yeah, this is fun for The Drama but also...not how books work
using italics for emphasis--gotta use your WORDS, zippy
head hopping. rereading old fanfics i wrote, i'm like, WHOSE POV IS THIS?? HOW WOULD JANE KNOW MAURA THINKS THIS?? jesus christ keep your pov tight, zipperoni. i had to really learn this when i was revising my first book and my agent pointed it out.
Oh. Oh. some of these are good but too many are oh [failure]
Using scene breaks to skip through transitions instead of actually transitioning. this one i'm working on right now and it's haaaaaaard.
scene choreography. if someone is holding something, do they ever put it down? are they STILL HOLDING IT NOW, FIVE YEARS LATER?
overwriting vs using a lighter touch. "that's normal. that's casual. that's fine." sometimes that's great for emphasis, but if it was always just "that's casual. that's fine." the point comes across the same way, and doesn't hit you over the head with it as much.
introducing new characters and making them memorable, vivid, and not sucking up too much space when the reader doesn't recognize them (it's lena! i love her!)
pacing! things have to happen at specific times, the book needs to end at a specific time, the conflict needs to be sown here and explode there. making that all feel organic and honest for the characters while also conforming to the genre expectations that have very little flexibility (especially for a new author trying to convince publishers I know how to write books)
ending things at the right time. at first i wrote too far beyond the climax (classic fanfic problem) and then now i seem to have swung too far in the other direction and am ending too soon after it. but the good news is that my editor asked for an epilogue. you know what that means?? A WHOLE SHORT CHAPTER OF FLUFF Y'ALL!!!
Does this need to be a curse word or can it be a different word? i mean often it fucking needs to but not always!
Just cut out the word just almost all of the time even if it feels like it's just the right word; it will hurt just a little but you should just do it.
use as much sex as the plot needs. incorporate it into the plot. don't change the tone of the piece. make it stay in character and also be hot and also serve the narrative.
got questions? want examples? have thoughts? what other things have you caught yourself doing, or notice when you read through your old stuff?
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