#and loved and loved and loved until your heart was torn to pieces and still chose to act out of love again anyway

[jacksprostate]

Part 4 (with links to the other parts)

The first thing I do is, I talk to the man who takes my sheets, with his scrapdog ears and eyebrows, and I tell him: address him properly.

The word spreads on its own. I remember, before I was used to it, that knowing lilt. Sir. It’s still present. Take your pills, sir. It’ll be alright, sir. Take your time recovering. 

Mills starts cursing at the staff. We pass in the halls, he yells at me, tells me to stop them. He’s not their fucking leader. Call off my dogs.

I smile, too wide. They’ve never listened to me, not really. Especially not on this.

I can’t help you. 

Naturally, he hates this. 

The second thing I do is, I ask for photographs. News clippings. Marla’s dildo was large, questionable, encouraging of disorder, and a choking hazard. Slips of paper are much more tolerable contraband. I’m given free rein, like one of Zimbardo’s incentivized guards. It’s a psychology experiment in a psychology experiment, and my psychiatrist is playing Jane Goodall. 

It’s arts and crafts, and all the attendees are either bruised or braindead. There is no one stopping me. I glue all my collected pieces together into the rough shape of a heart, like it’s Valentine’s Day, and I turn to Mills, trapped at the back of the room. He hasn’t seen a shred of what I’m up to. 

Something to remember her by, I say. I don’t call him sir, because I never have. I wonder if he knows this.

I see him look, more instinct than anything from getting layers of paper shoved in his face, and I see how he clenches his teeth so hard his jaw creaks. He rips the collage of his wife out of my hands, and I can tell, he hates me. Real hate, like he wants death to fuck my body until it’s not even for the worms. 

He can’t bear to destroy it, and now I know every time he looks at it in his room, he’ll be thinking of me. Funny how that works.

The thing is; Mills actually didn’t try to kill me this time, so I think I need to take it up a notch. 

I cross the cafeteria just so I can spit in his food. I piss on his door and get the space monkey janitors to leave it for fifty-seven hours. In group therapy, I take a page from Chloe and monologue about how the last thing I’d like to do is get my rocks off chemically unhindered before the seizure medications they’ve got me on arrest all of my brain activity altogether. A nice nugget for Mills to report back to Somerset about my proposed psychosexual obsession. I segue into discussing how I met Tyler, on the nude beach, grit all across him as he hauled pilings and sat with his bare ass in the sand. It’s the most I’ve ever said about Tyler. The group minder scribbles on her sheet like mad as I describe Tyler’s wet, blond hair. His minute of perfection.

And he still doesn’t try to fight me. I know he wants to. He wants to shake me by my throat and rattle me and slam my head into the ground until it splits open like a rotten egg. But he doesn’t, and he looks torn. Like he’s guilty. Like Tyler could ever really feel guilt. 

This is one of the things I want to complain about when Marla calls me. 

She still does. More than when she was alive. But she says nothing, and I can’t break the silence. I sit there, orderlies watching as I say nothing, she says nothing, just a whole bunch of dead air between us.

Ghosts were always calling for Marla, at Paper Street. 

Now I’ve got Marla’s ghost on the line and Tyler’s ghost in the flesh, and neither want to talk to me. 

We get locked up in supervised one-on-one again, now with both of us chained and one twitch away from a new addiction.

I ask Mills, did you talk to her enough, that last week?

Do you think she knew you loved her?

Do you think she felt loved?

Mills asks for the sedation, this time. Polite about it, like he’s not seething. Like I can’t see how his eyes have been only half empty most of these days, since I’ve managed to fill him up with rage at me. Folie à deux, I want it so bad. 

I am Jack’s crippling sense of rejection.

My stupid psychiatrist, he lets Mills amble out of the room and traps me in there. 

I’m corralled. An angel on either shoulder. All the staff who aren’t from the Project have stopped laughing at my jokes. My antics have not gone unobserved. I’ve been given my time to rein as the world’s most entertaining lab rat, and now this localized god wants results.

“What’s your goal here?”

Isn’t it obvious?

“No. Tell me about what you’re thinking,” he says. I look at him, and I see him, for the first time. Not disillusioned, not holy. Just a sniveling doctor with a penchant for human experimentation and the funding to enable him. 

How horribly average.

He says, “I understand this is difficult for you, but we really need to know what’s going on if you want to have continued support in this manner for your recovery.” Play nice, or you’ll lose your favorite toy.

I say, this has never been about recovery. It’s time we faced that, isn’t it?

This man, so used to my religious apathy, has never truly had a challenge. He looks pinched.

He says, “Of course I want you to recover.”

And I laugh, and I point out that we both know those outside these halls are more interested in what’s wrong with me than any semblance of fixing it. 

You’re not getting paid to drain the swamp in my head. You’re here to keep it plugged up, decomposing. We both know this, I’m just acknowledging it. I laugh.

I tell this little god, he can write me up in all his little acclaimed journals.

But don’t come to me, saying I have to play your little games or you’ll take Mills away. We both know you won’t. The day I give up, the day I become a real vegetable is the day your cash cow keels over. You’re not going to punish me. Not really. You’ll take away my jello, my oats, you’ll put me on lithium and clozapine and valproic acid, but you don’t really want this to end. You don’t want me to get better. You want Tyler back just as much as I do. You can’t do shit to me. I have nothing to lose.

You have everything.

Tyler’s words, back home in my mouth. They’re mine now. I get up and the orderlies flanking me do nothing. I look down on this small, small man, and I think, he has never known a bigger fish. He doesn’t even know the hands that feed him.

I’ve hit bottom, I say, and it’s not you who holds the shovel. Be grateful I let you observe.

#fight club #my writing #se7 #se7en (1995) #se7en #back on my bullshit ! #theres a turn after this. i feel like this fic getting posted in breaks of several weeks is not ideal oops #ill probably go through and try to clean it up when i post it on ao3. but we are still a ways away. getting pretty long. whew #still have several major scenes....

[chrollohearttags]

“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

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“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

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@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

#armin arlert #armin arlet smut #armin artlert #armin x black reader #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet x black reader #aot x black reader #black reader #aot au #black reader smut #aot drabbles #armin drabble #armin x reader #armin aot #armin smut #armin arlet headcanons #snk armin #armin attack on titan #armin arlet imagines #armin x you #black fem reader #college au #aot armin #attack on titan #attack on titan au #cw drugs #cw angst #armin fluff #angst and comfort #aot smut

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

 Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway. 

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion. 

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes. 

You’d never love again. 

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road. 

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays. 

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life. 

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love. 

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake. 

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded. 

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved. 

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough. 

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil. 

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better. 

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long? 

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again. 

**

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement. 

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks. 

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone. 

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled.  And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance. 

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest. 

“What was that?” Maria chirped. 

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you. 

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you. 

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles. 

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes. 

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked. 

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally. 

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement. 

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home. 

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit. 

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.” 

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true. 

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before. 

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours. 

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it. 

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly. 

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous. 

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in. 

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch. 

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget. 

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk. 

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated. 

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents. 

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out. 

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see. 

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here. 

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing. 

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip. 

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased. 

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body. 

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips. 

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned. 

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer. 

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?” 

Was he… flirting with you? 

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care. 

“What other flavors do you like?” 

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.  

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered. 

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered. 

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered. 

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency. 

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality. 

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away. 

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?” 

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends. 

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach. 

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked. 

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly. 

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built. 

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot. 

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained. 

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you. 

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer. 

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins. 

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud. 

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door. 

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. 

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car. 

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear. 

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner. 

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck. 

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior. 

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar. 

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness. 

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile. 

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light. 

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably. 

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction. 

“This is me,” you sniffled. 

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked. 

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

#joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

[astraystayyh]

The only exception

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

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

skz song series masterlist

i.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ii. 

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

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

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

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

"Sure, anything else?" 

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

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

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

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

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

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again. 

iii. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

iv.

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

Except you're not smiling. 

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

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

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

"They are."

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

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

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

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

v. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has you on his side. 

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

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

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

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

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

"I wish it didn't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[munsons-hellfire]

Happiness in the Heart | Eris Vanserra

SUMMARY: You were in love with Azriel for as long as you could remember. But things changed when Elain joined your family, everything changed. Then you met your mate and suddenly you found everything you ever wanted. But you couldn't have had it had it not been for Azriel.

PAIRINGS: Eris Vanserra x Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: No smut, Eris is nothing but sweet in this, angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, nothing to graphic, mentions of heartbreak.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had plans to make this a lot more sadder than what is actually written. But I like the way it turned out for the most part. I wanted to write a good sweet side to Eris and this was it. I enjoyed writing this very much and I hope you enjoy it as well.

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

You’d been a part of the inner circle since you could remember. For a long time you truly felt like one of them but everything seemed to change when the Archeron sisters became a part of the inner circle. Suddenly everyone whom you’d assumed was your friend had disappeared. Azriel was your best friend and the two of you were inseparable and then Elain came into the picture and just like that you lost him.

You didn’t blame Elain, you understood. You knew that maybe you were better off alone. Your thoughts got the better of you telling you that maybe things would be better if you disappeared. Especially when Azriel started spending more time with Elain. You loved him, but had always been too afraid to say something. Though now it seemed like you no longer had a chance.

You were drifting from the inner circle, becoming less and less. Though you would still go out on missions, but for the most part you’d ask Rhys to send you out by yourself. As you started to lock yourself inside your room and away from the people you cared about they didn’t seem to notice. That hurt the most, that you had just disappeared from their lives.

Currently you were in the autumn court, Eris had become the new heir of the Court after his father’s untimely demise. Your friends were around but you paid no mind to them, you had drink after drink until you were drunk enough to hopefully not remember anything the following morning. You looked around the court, Azriel was in the center smiling and dancing with Elain.

Right then and there your heart had officially been torn to pieces. And to make the blow worse you believed that everything that had happened between you and Azriel had been your fault. You had waited too long and now you’d never get a chance to tell him how you felt. Taking a long exhale you grabbed another glass of wine and exited out of the room heading outdoors.

You tumbled down the steps slightly eventually sitting down on one of them, then you dropped your body the rest of the way and stared up at the stars with nothing but a blank gaze as tears cascaded down your face and into your hair. You had tried so hard not to cry but seeing Azriel happy with someone who wasn’t you made it that much worse. A figure stood in front of you glancing down at you.

“I would’ve thought that everyone from the Night Court liked to party.” Eris Vanserra’s voice ran through your ears. The newly appointed High Lord was staring down at you.

“I guess I’m not in the mood for a party.” You mumbled, staring past him.

“Pity.” He paused, wanting nothing more than to stop the tears falling from your face. Eris had known since the High Lord meeting to fight against Hybern that you were his mate. When you had walked into the room and looked at him he had felt the golden thread of the bond tie his soul to yours. But it seemed nothing had snapped for you. It had been 5 years since then, 5 years too long in his eyes. “You look rather divine if I say so myself.”

“You’re compliments won’t do anything to cheer me up.”

Eris moved down the steps, then he held his hand out to you. “Walk with me, my darling fox.”

You grabbed his hand but held a glare on your face. “I’m not your darling fox, don’t call me that.”

The male only smiled as the moonlight highlighted his features. “You say that now, sweetheart.”

You released a groan walking past the High Lord. No matter what you heard about Eris, you couldn’t seem to hate him and you didn’t understand why. When the two of you were far enough from the party Eris shrugged off his cold exterior.

“Why don’t you come stay in my court for a while.” Eris said, showing his compassionate side to you. Shock seemed to wash over your face as you stared at him.

“What? Why?” You rushed out.

“Do those you consider friends really care about you?” He asked a serious look in his amber eyes. “Do they know that you're struggling, that you feel so alone, that the male that you love is not interested in you?” The way he had mentioned Azriel was off putting to you. Like he was upset that you were in love with another male that wasn’t him. But why, is what you wanted to know.

“My burdens are not theirs to bear, they are not yours to bear. We barely know each other.”

“I don’t need to know you to feel your pain, little fox.” Eris lifted a hand and moved a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear. The touch was enough to cause your heart to stutter in your chest,

“How can you feel my pain?”

He sighed, looking away. “You’re my mate, Y/N.” The words were soft and so low you almost didn’t hear him speak it.

“What?” He could hear the confusion in your voice as you stared at him.

Eris didn’t want to repeat himself because he needed to get it off his chest, he needed you to know even if you hadn’t felt the bond, even if there might be a chance that you’d reject it. He couldn’t wake up everyday anymore and feel your pain. He wanted to help, he wanted to be there for you to show you that you're not alone no matter what you think.

“You. Are. My. Mate.” He had paused in between the words and had also stepped closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he grasped your fingers and held them between his. And as if he had spoken it into existence you felt the gold thread tie you to Eris. When he gave a tug on the bond a choked sob left your mouth.

You surprised yourself when you wrapped your hands around the male’s waist and pulled him into a hug. More tears had started to roll down your face as he hugged you back just as tightly. When you pulled back slightly to look up at him he lifted his hand to wipe away the tears.

“What does this mean?” You asked.

“You can stay in the Night Court if that’s what you wish, I won’t force this on you. But I’d like a chance for you to get to know me better. To know the real me and not the cold distant male you’ve met a handful of times.”

“Okay.” You paused, staring into his beautiful eyes. “And when I’m ready to accept the bond?”

“When you’re one day ready to accept it we can hold whatever ceremony you’d like. But I’d only request that you come stay with me here in the Autumn Court. Only after will you be my High Lady. You’ll rule with me by my side, I will not force you to bear my heir, all of that will be your decision. All of this will be yours to choose.”

You nodded your head. “I might need a few days to think about the offer.”

“Very well my little fox.” You rolled your eyes at the male.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You had traveled back to the Night Court, after that night. Upon returning you felt a little less alone. You thought that the idea of Eris being your mate would scare you, but in truth it excited you. Looking at the supposed friendships, you started to think that maybe it was time to leave. You wanted to know Eris more and eventually accept the bond. You just needed time to adjust to the idea of leaving.

In the weeks that you’d returned home no one had made an effort to see where you’d gone that night. Not even Azriel. Suddenly you no longer felt sad about him not loving you. But it still hurt. The way they had all treated you had hurt. Currently you were on a mission by yourself, Rhys had sent you to a village to see if any danger lie there.

In hindsight you should’ve brought someone with you. But that mistake cost you everything. You’d swore to yourself to keep the village safe from whatever danger loomed over it. But when the fairies appeared and took you out, they had killed every villager. Silence surrounded you, you had blacked out and managed to winnow back home.

Eris could feel your panic, sorrow, fear, and sadness down the bond. You landed in the center of your room, blood covered the entirety of your body and you don’t remember what had happened. All you knew is that whoever had killed the villagers were dead. Screams of pain left your mouth, but to you they were muffled. This mission has truly broken you. The door to your bedroom opened, there stood Azriel.

Rhys and Feyre right behind him. While they were trying to get you to calm down and stop the screams that fell off your lips. All the while you started to call for your mate.

“Eris please.” You had whispered in your mind.

“I’m on my way little fox.” He whispered back.

When Azriel got close enough that he could touch you, you flinched, backing away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You had angrily whispered. You could see the hurt on his face but you didn’t have the mental capacity to focus on that, your mind was still on all the children who had died on your hands, all the parents that had been slaughtered, all the elders that were killed. They were all on your hands.

“Y/N, tell me what happened.” Azriel said, hoping he could get something before Rhys or Feyre entered your mind.

“Now you care.” Those were the only words that came from your mouth before Rhys entered your mind. Your shields were down and he had been able to discover everything. You tried to push the High Lord out of your mind but it had been too much. So much so that when he left your mind you collapsed to the ground. You feel asleep the nightmares of what you witnessed following you.

Rhys had shown both Feyre and Azriel what had happened on the mission. He however refused to show Azriel that Eris had been your mate. He would respect your privacy on that. As for everything else, he should’ve seen the signs that you were pulling away, and after this mission he knew you’d leave and never return. They had all pushed you and now they had lost you.

Cassian appeared, Eris standing with him, a scared look on his face as he looked down at you unconscious. Azriel clenched his jaw, staring at the male.

“What’s he doing here?” Azriel went on to ask.

“I’m here to take my mate home.” Eris answered as he walked towards your body that was still covered in blood.

“You’re her mate?” The words left Azriel’s mouth before he could stop them.

Eris only ignored him, he picked your body up and held you in his arms. Then he turned back to Rhys, a glare on his face. The stone cold looked never leaving even as Rhys spoke to him.

“You can do the one thing that we all failed at. You can take care of Y/N and be there. Just promise that she comes to visit.” Rhys said, his voice broken as he said it.

“I will try my best. But you all betrayed her. You know she shouldn’t have gone on a mission in this state and yet you sent her anyway, now look where it’s gotten her.” Eris turned to look at Azriel. “And you, I didn’t want to tell her that I was her mate because I thought she deserved better than me. I thought maybe Y/N would be good with you, she loved you. But you broke her heart and now you’ve lost her for good. I will make this very clear shadowsinger. You are only allowed in my Court if your High Lord or High Lady is present, if not you are banned from entering the Autumn court even if you try to talk to Y/N. If you step foot on my court without either Rhys or Feyre present you will be killed.”

Eris looked at Rhys and Feyre who gave him a nod of understanding. Before Azriel could argue Eris winnowed out heading back to the Autumn Court to clean you up. Azriel looked at his High Lord and Lady.

“You’re going to honor what that male said?” Azriel asked, staring at the two.

“It’s not like we have a choice in the matter. I told you that she loved you, we all did and you ignored her when she was hurting. We all did, and none of us will ever be able to make up for that. But you should’ve told her that you didn’t like her that way. Instead you dragged her on like she was a lost puppy.” Rhys paused, taking control of the power inside himself. “I sensed that Eris was her mate and that’s why she came to the coronation for Eris. I shouldn’t have sent her on that mission but she needed to be with Eris and this was the only way, the only way for her to be truly happy. Because if she had done something I would’ve never forgiven myself and Eris would’ve never forgiven us. We would lose an ally for any future war. So yes, Feyre and I will be honoring what he has asked. You will not step foot on Autumn land unless one or both of us is with you. If you go against our orders your fate will be left in Eris’ hands.”

“Fine.” Azriel stormed out leaving to figure out what had just happened.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You woke up a few days later. When you came to you looked around the room until your eyes fell on your mate. He was sitting in a chair, asleep. You groaned slightly as you lifted yourself up from the bed. Eris opened his eyes and found you staring at him.

“Hello, little fox.” He whispered, a smirk gracing his lips.

“How long have I been out?” You asked quickly, smiling internally at the nickname. You still weren’t ready to accept it but it was starting to win you over, especially after he had rescued you.

“A week. I had a healer take a look at the injuries you got on that mission. They were healed.” He answered. You eyed him as he stood from the chair and walked over to the bed, he sat down on the edge and reached for one of your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You looked away from him as the words left your lips.

“No. What happened is not your fault. Don’t apologize, I will always come to rescue you no matter what.” For the first time in 5 years you finally understood what it was like to have someone in your corner.

“What, um, what happened after I passed out?”

“Rhysand wants you to still visit. I told him I’d try my best but I know right now that’s not the best for you. I banned Azriel from my court, our court when you’re ready to run it by my side. He’s only allowed to step foot in this land if Rhysand or Feyre is with him. I will not let him hurt you again, ever.”

Your lips trembled, how could someone you’ve barely known done so much for you. Eris had done just that, had done enough to make sure you're safe and secure in your new home. You wished he’d show this side more to the other high lords, either way you were so lucky to call him your mate. Even if you hadn’t accepted it yet.

“Thank you.” Eris nodded his head, eventually he rested his forehead against yours and the two of you closed your eyes and enjoyed each other’s company.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

It had been a year since you’d left the Night Court and joined the Autumn Court. You became a part of the Autumn Court a month after your arrival, it had been tough to get used to but you eventually found peace. You had picked up a part time job as a librarian to keep you busy when Eris was away for his High Lord responsibilities.

After some time you and Eris had alone time. You had cooked a meal for him and that had been your way of accepting the mating bond. Two weeks later you had a mating ceremony for the Court. You married Eris and became High Lady of the Autumn Court. Word had been spread to the other courts, and you had received plenty of congratulations.

Even ones from those you used to consider friends. For the entire year you had managed to heal yourself with the help of your mate, your husband. And you were ready to forgive all of them including Azriel. Especially now that you would be a mother. Currently you sat in the bathing waters with a hand on your bump, you were 8 months along.

You couldn’t be more excited to get closer to the due date, to be able to welcome your child into the world. Eris was afraid when you had first told him. He was afraid he’d be like his father and torment the babe rather than love it. But you had constantly reminded him that this child would come into the world loved by two parents. You had made it clear to Eris that he was nothing like his father and he had shown that by changing his persona and being there throughout the pregnancy so far.

“How are my girls?” Eris questioned from the bathroom door. You pulled your attention from your bump and looked at the male you were happy to call your husband and mate.

“We’re fine. Very happy.” You paused, sending him a smile and a large amount of happiness down the bond, he of course smiled at you. Then he walked towards you holding his hand to you. You took it and he helped you from the tub. “Must I remind you that we are going to have a son.” Your smile only brightened. You were certain you’d have a son first, where Eris was certain you’d have a daughter first.

“We shall know when our child comes into this world.”

“And it’ll be the happiest day to be able to hold him or her in our arms.” Eris rested his head on yours. The two of you take in each other's emotions. Finally you parted and helped you get changed into a dress that had been altered to fit your growing bump. You two stood in front of the mirror, Eris had his hands resting on your stomach, yours were on top of his.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, concerning washing from his lips.

“I am. This is a great way to announce the pregnancy of our first heir. And it’ll be good for me to forgive them. It’s the last step in my recovery and I need to do this.” You explained to him.

“Okay. If at any point you get overwhelmed-”

“I know, tell you and we can leave.” You said cutting him off.

“Exactly.” He watched as you turned around in his arms and stared up at him.

“Azriel is no longer banned from our Court.” Your words caught him off guard but he knew to expect them.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, if he wishes to visit without Feyre and Rhys then he should be able to. I don’t love him anymore and I’m no longer bothered by the way he treated me and the fact that he didn’t love me. Without him I wouldn’t have found you, I wouldn’t be growing our child. I wouldn’t have the family I was always supposed to have. It’s because of him that I get to love you and will continue to love until the Mother decides it’s my time to leave. Azriel is the reason behind all of this and it’s not fair to keep him from our Court.”

Eris smiled at your words. “Very well. My High Lady has a say in his punishment and if that’s what you are okay with then I will stand by your side as you tell them.” You gave a small shake of your head. “Now we have guests waiting for us, I don’t think we should keep them waiting.”

“No we shouldn’t.”

You interlaced your fingers with your husband’s and the two of you walked out of your chambers heading to the throne room where the other High Lords and High Ladies waited. You’d even known Tamlin would be there. He was still making amends for what he did in the past but a few months ago you’d learned that the Spring Lord had discovered his mate.

She had been helping Tamlin with his recovery and helping him to be a better male. Lucien had been able to build his friendship with the male again, and you were there to help. You were also there when Lucien found out that Helion was his father. Everyone was healing and you couldn’t be more proud of the things all of you had accomplished since Eris had taken over as the High Lord in Autumn.

With you by his side things were moving in the direction they needed. The doors opened for the two of you, instantly eyes fell onto you and Eris. Your grip on your mate's hand got tighter as the two of you walked past your guest heading towards your throne. He squeezed back, assuring you that everything was okay.

Keeping your head held high, you had a hand resting on your bump protectively as the other High Lords and Ladies and the guest they might’ve brought with them stared at your bump. After making it to the steps you and Eris turned looking at everyone.

“My wife and I wanted to thank you all for being here. Please enjoy the food, drinks, and have fun dancing.” Eris said, a smile on his face. Everyone was still getting used to this new side of Eris but they trusted you, and because they trusted you they could trust him.

Eris helped you sit down on the throne, then he took a seat on the armrest next to you. Rhysand and Feyre walked up with Azriel behind them but at a distance.

“Y/N. It’s so good to see you again.” Feyre stated with a smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“You’re glowing.” Rhysand added.

“Thank you. Eris and I are so excited to meet our little bundle in the coming weeks.” You said, briefly glancing at Azriel. He was staring at you.

“How have you been?” Feyre proceeded to ask.

“I’m doing better.” You looked to Eris, he gave you a nod and squeezed your shoulder softly. You reached for his hand and held it in your hands. Azriel took note of the wedding bands that were on your left hand. He noticed Eris had one too. “I actually wanted to discuss the banning of your Shadowsinger from our court.”

“We apologize if this has caused any discomfort for you.” Rhysand said, his violet eyes switching between you and Eris.

“No it hasn’t. Firstly I’m sorry that it’s taking me so long to speak with all of you. I was in pain and was trying to heal. Eris, he’s helped a lot in my healing journey. And so has our child. I’d like to have family dinners with you again, as long as Eris is welcome.”

Feyre and Rhysand glanced at each other, you know they were having a silent conversation with each other. Finally they looked back at you and Eris.

“We’d like that very much.” Feyre said with a soft smile on her face. You released a breath, Eris sent a wave of love down the bond. You knew he was proud of you and it was showing.

“Secondly, Azriel, could you please step forward so that I may speak with you.”

He gave a nod and moved in between Feyre and Rhysand until he was in front of them. His shadows were moving around his body, he seemed happier as you looked at him. Maybe some kind of change had come his way after you’d left. You knew he wasn’t with Elain because she was with Lucien right now.

A few months ago she had accepted the bond between them after she herself had found what made her happy. She learned to accept the bond and with it Lucien. You’d hoped that maybe Azriel had found his mate too.

“I know that you were never in love with me the way I was. I only wished you’d told me how you felt. That being said, thank you.”

“Thank you?” Azriel asked, hazel eyes narrowing in you as confusion filled his normally emotionless face. Feyre and Rhysand also stared at you with confused looks.

“If you had told me that you loved me I would’ve never found my mate. I wouldn’t be married to Eris, I wouldn’t be High Lady of Autumn, it’s still a shock even now. And I wouldn’t be carrying our child right now. Because of you I found everything I needed. I found my home, my purpose. I learned to heal myself even after everything I’ve gone through. I hope that you find a mate one day.”

Azriel took a moment to process your words. “I have, she’s wonderful.” He said. He turned slightly looking at Rhys. Then he looked back at you and Eris. “She’s here, would you like to meet her?”

You nodded enthusiastically, years ago you would’ve been sad and jealous that he hadn’t noticed you but now it was different. Now you were happy and you could see that he had to.

“Will you help me up, dear?” You asked, looking at Eris. He smiled at you.

“Of course, little fox.” You smiled at the nickname as he helped you from the seat.

The two of you walked down the steps. When you were close enough you pulled Feyre into a hug. She hugged you back tightly. Then you moved over to Rhysand and hugged him tightly. Seconds later Azriel came back with a female by his side. Cassian, Nesta, Amren and Mor were also with him.

“They wanted to see you too.” Azriel mentioned. Hugs went around quickly, then your eyes landed on the female Azriel had brought over. You took a closer look at her and noticed the bright blue eyes. “This is Gwyneth, my mate.” The smile that broached his face made you happy. Lucien and Elain joined at some point, he sent a nod towards you and Eris.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from everyone.” She said, holding her hand out towards you.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You told her your name as you shook her hand. “Eris is my mate, and this is our little bean.” You said holding onto your bump. Eris was behind you with a smile on his face.

“A happy reunion. Does this mean you’ll come visit now?” Mor asked eyes on you.

“Yes it does. And you are more than welcome to visit here as much as you like.” You paused looking at Azriel as sadness seemed to cross his face for a brief moment. “None of that.” You said.

“What?” Azriel asked you.

“Azriel, Shadowsinger, you are hereby welcomed back to the Autumn court whenever you please. You’re no longer banned from our home.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Azriel asked, looking at the High Lord.

“My High Lady’s word is power and if she grants it then we are to follow it.” Eris answered.

“Very well.”

Relief washed over you when Azriel accepted your request. “Let’s enjoy this party, shall we?” You said pulling your husband towards the dance floor. The others followed behind you. As you danced with your family you looked up at Eris.

“Are you happy?” He asked spinning you around and pulling you back to his chest.

“So happy.” You answered, resting your head on his chest.

“Good. You deserve it.”

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

A few weeks later you and Eris welcomed your son into the world. Currently you held onto the sleeping babe as your friends started to arrive at your home to meet the newborn. You looked down at your son, truly content with the life you had right now. You could hear the laughter in your home and it had been so long since you felt a part of it.

Azriel made his way up to you first, Eris allowing you time to talk to him. You looked at the Shadowsinger when he came to a stop next to you. A smile graced your lips when he looked down at your son.

“Would you like to hold him, Az?” You asked, using a nickname you hadn’t used in a long time.

“I’d be honored, Y/N.” He smiled brightly. You leaned forward shifting the babe into Azriel’s arms. His scarred hands tightened, as he held onto the babe. His shadows moved towards the babe, almost as if they were protecting your son.

“I think you’d make a fine Uncle.” You said, lifting your gaze to Azriel. He was staring at you with shock in his hazel eyes. “I don’t want what happened in the past to define our future. Nova, he deserves to have a happy family. And I want you to be a part of that just as much as everyone else that’s here.”

“As long as I can teach him how to fight.” Azriel said excitedly.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, but Nova has a few years before he’s ready for that.”

“Very well.” As the night moved on and everyone met Nova you realized that it had been so long since you felt this content, this happy. You had your new family and your old family.

“You deserve to be happy, don’t forget that my love.” Eris said in your mind as a wave of love flew down the bond.

“How can I forget when you're constantly reminding me?” You remarked with a smile.

“And I’ll continue to remind you until the Mother decides to take me away from you. But I promise that I’ll find you in every lifetime.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #reader insert #x reader #eris vanserra x reader #azriel #rhysand #elain archeron #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #cassian #morrigan #amren #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #lucien vanserra

[itsphoenix0724]

Can You Kill A God? (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: No one will ever forget why you are Death's queen ever again.

Based on another fic I wrote which you can read here

Warnings: Gore, blood, the reader is a little sinister but I love it, SMUT (unprotected sex, breeding kink?, oral: m and f receiving)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been really missing Death!Az and Life!Reader recently. Also, I've had an obsession with Get In The Water from Epic the musical and this is what spawned. I did set in Ancient Greece so I did mention a Greek city. Happy New Year!!!

It started as a petty slight. Some stupid mortal king had said they feared Death more than War, so the god had raged a challenge. Your husband doesn’t normally involve himself in other matters, he had no need.

Eris was irrelevant to him.

Of all the other gods he is the only one who was inevitable, who would be permanent despite all odds. Azriel didn’t even feel the need to acknowledge the God of War, but he had started harming your creations, which was unacceptable in his eyes.

The souls had come into the underworld brutalized, they curled into your lap as you wiped their tears with the gossamer of your gown and told you that they had been sent as a message. You shed your own tears as you escorted them to eternal paradise and Death’s eyes went dark with promise as he cupped your jaw. 

Then he prepared for battle. 

You had to return to the overworld soon, the last phases of winter thawing into springtime greenery. He would sort this mess out before you leave his protection realm. Azriel gathered his allies and they outfitted themselves for combat. He took care to strap the armor to your chest, the gauntlets on your arms, and around your calves, kissing his devotion before securing every piece of metal. You did the same to him taking extra care to protect his heart.

The sight of you almost sent him to his knees.

There are still flowers wound through your hair, nightshade and belladonna make a deadly crown, and the golden glow that seems to permanently surround you bounces off the obsidian steel of your armor.

The battle had been bloody and long, it felt as if you’ve been here for days. Your dress was torn, the cloth shredded around your feet. Blood covered your entire front, caked and cracked into your skin. 

You cannot kill a god. 

But that doesn’t make the battle any less gruesome. 

Nothing would touch you thanks to Death looming over your shoulder. Every attack that may have hit you was deflected by your husband and vice-versa until the God of War catches onto this little tactic and baits Azriel by attacking you. Az had jumped in front of you, a wall of shadows blasting the God of War back a few feet at the risk of wounding him. 

But Death had fallen, red blood spilling sickly and sweet onto the fresh spring grass. It reminds you of a splitting pomegranate as the red seeps out and stains the dirt, every god in the field halts their battle and watches 

You fall to your knees in front of him, vines starting to curl around him as your magic begs to erupt from your chest to protect what’s yours. Eris gloats from his spot hovering in the air, laughing at Azriel struggling to breathe around the blood coming up his throat. The thorn vines wrap around Azriel to ward off any who might try to weaken him further as you rise to your feet. 

“Flower,” he wheezes around a cracked rattle in his throat, shaking his head and trying to sit up. You shush him gently pouring golden light into his chest that does nothing. You are not the Goddess of Healing, life will never stop death, so Az will have to heal on his own. War still mocks your shushing, your tears, calling your magic pathetic.

The earth beneath you starts to rumble. 

You are the Goddess of Life, the Goddess of the Earth, the World Shaker, and you will make every God here remember why you are Queen of the Underworld. 

Rising to your feet, the earth grumbles and shudders under the very force of your erratic heartbeat. War made a mistake waging this battle in Sparta, his arrogance will be his downfall. Your entire body shakes with rage as you stare at Eris from his spot in the air. 

“Get on the ground Eris.” Your voice rumbles in time with the splitting of the earth and War widens his eyes at the splintering ground. Yet, his overconfidence keeps him hovering out of your reach.

“Go home, Little Goddess” He drawls, “You’ve been beaten.” he spits at you with venom in his eyes—a dark, dark laugh bubbles out of your chest like molten lava. 

“If you don’t come down here I will collapse every wall in your city, and kill everyone in it.” You glare up at him, and he laughs shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?” You quirk a brow and the rise around the city starts to shake. “Tell me God, what happens when every last worshiper of yours is dead?” His eyes widen in fear then. 

Because that is how you kill a god, you force them into the darkness of being forgotten until they waste away like little more than salt in water. 

Faster than a breath thorn-covered vines shoot from the earth and surround War kicking and screaming, golden light begins to glow brightly from your eyes as your fury hauls him to the ground.

 People seem to forget that Death is the calm acceptance of something coming to an end. Life joins this realm wailing its existence to the stars, Life can be a very violent thing.

You will break him beyond repair, you can’t hear the sounds of Eris choking on his blood, the only noise in your head is the dull thumping of a war drum. He fights back with as much power as he can muster, but you’re barely trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there. The sinister in your smile reflects in his shining, terrified eyes. 

How pretty would it be if lilies sprouted from his lungs? 

Someone may be calling your name but you can’t hear anything, the tunnel vision threatening to collapse you entirely. You might not be able to kill him like this but regrowing all of his organs certainly would take some time. Feeling the golden power writhe and wrap around his heart, begging you to let it off its leash and crush, but it’s then that you feel the cooling darkness wrap around your shoulders. Death sweeps his chill gaze over War after rising to his feet. You still hold the line firm, one arm shooting out to block Azriel from any further advancement. The light in your eyes still refuses to dim, but Az wraps a hand around your jaw delicately turning your face toward him. 

“You’ve made your point My Love,” the steady weight of his hand calms the rising heat in your blood. “It’s time to let him go.” Azriel didn’t particularly care if you ripped Eris apart and scattered him to the seas, but he knew the guilt would threaten to drag you into the abyss entirely. The light dims, and you drop your hand. Eris falls to the ground like a puppet dropped from strings, coughing blood like shiny red rubies onto the grass. You’re only looking at Az, the wash of reassurance running over your body as you finally process that he’s whole–that he’s standing. 

He’s alright. 

Death doesn’t deign to even look at War as shadows come around you like dark silk, and you’re back in his realm. He finally sags into your arms as he lets the facade drop, the real pain and exhaustion catching up to him. Az thinks you might call for a medic, but it feels like someone is holding his head underwater. The silk of the sheets feels distant against his skin as your hand strokes his face, and he finally lets his eyes slip closed. 

Azriel sleeps for four days. 

He wakes in your bedroom, your presence absent, but a pitcher of water remains on the bedside table. The armor he’d donned for battle had been stripped from him, replaced by a black chiton that fell loosely around his chest and hips. He chugs half the water in one go as his power reaches out frantically for you, his heart settles when he feels like your golden aura, and he rises to set off looking. 

He finds you beneath an ever-blooming willow tree in Asphodel fields, reading animatedly to a group of children, the golden reeds bellowing in the fresh spring air. They scatter as he leans against the trunk, giggling and laughing as they chase each other into the meadow. You’re overjoyed when you see your husband, throwing his arms around him and crashing his lips to yours. 

“Are you all right?” You mutter, gently pushing back the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. You’re so delicate with him, Azriel feels his heart skip two beats in his chest. 

“I’m content,” He hums lazily dropping his nose into your hairline, the lingering smell of lilies floods his senses and calms his nerves as it always does. He nudges his nose to your pulse point before biting gently at your fluttering heartbeat. 

“Azriel,” your voice reverberates into his chest, twinning heartbeats thudding together. “You’re still injured.” he continues his exploration of your neck, nipping his displeasure at your attempt to coddle him. Your body shudders as he finds a sensitive point, and you can feel his smug smile at your jugular. 

“Let me worship my Goddess in peace,” he rumbles relishing in the feel of your skin and the golden warmth of the fresh sun. He drops to his knees in the dirt, pressing devotion into the curve of your knee as your back thumps against the bark of the willow. He smirks as flowers bloom around you in time with your bashfulness, red poppies matching the pretty flush on your cheeks. 

“The souls,” You whip your head from side to side as he runs his hands along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilts his head in contemplation, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth like molten gold.

You feel his power ripple around you and a blanket of silence covers the area. Everything goes quiet, no birds chirping or animals running through the surrounding forest, even the rustling of the grass in the wind falls silent under his command. 

“No one will bother us now,” Azriel muses, continuing his travels, you squirm under his attention as he climbs higher and higher. 

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” You barely get the words out as he runs his thumb delicately over the apex of your thighs, enjoying the feel of you under his hands. “You should really eat something,” He growls his frustration as he bites a dark mark on the sensitive skin. 

“I’m trying too, if you would stop interrupting me.” His eyes turn almost black as he focuses his attention on your core again, brushing aside the scrap of silk covering you. Az lets out a guttural moan as your scent floods his senses.  He dives in then, feasting on you like he needs it more than air.

He’s wasted precious time with you since he’s been asleep, winter is caving to the sweet spring, but it seems the cold is listening to his prayers and holding on just a little longer. He licks straight to your center, tasting the honeyed sweetness as it floods his mouth. No matter how many centuries you spend together you are always still so responsive to him, you’re twitching and squirming against the tree just about to tumble over that edge when you yank his head away to pull him to his feet. His eyes are glazed over and your slick is dripping down his chin, you haul his mouth to yours tasting yourself on his tongue. All of a sudden his back is against the tree and you sink to your knees before him, tearing at the laces of his pants. 

It seems that you’ve missed him as well. 

You look up at him through batting lashes, and Azriel strokes his hand along your jaw in adoration. You take him in your mouth and Az feels like molten iron has been poured down his spine, white-hot pleasure blinding all of his senses. Death’s knees begin to buckle under Life’s ministrations, the smug look in her eyes adding to the crumbling of his resolve. He has always laid everything he is at your feet, intimacy is no different. You stroke the rest of won’t fit in your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head and he feels weightless. 

Your tongue strokes along a vein on the side of his cock and he explodes almost embarrassingly quickly. It appears that four days had taken more of a toll on him than anticipated. He scoops you into his arms and in a blink you’re in your bedroom. The absurdly large bed stretches across the expanse of the room, the open windows letting in the sun. Azriel tosses you on the cool silk sheets as he stalks on top of you. His lips collide with yours again as he slowly draws one hand up your thigh and draws your underwear down, throwing it somewhere behind him. He thrusts into you in one long motion, and the searing pleasure sends a rumble of power that shakes the very foundation of the palace. 

“Calm Flower,” he whispers as he hits the spot inside of you that threatens to launch you into oblivion. “You’ll bring the walls down around us.” You let out a laugh that bubbles into a moan as he continues his languid drive into you over and over. Eventually, Azriel starts to ram into you as his restraint falters like a splitting thread, toying his fingers over the apex of your thighs with musician’s grace as he bites at your neck. He flips you over at lightning speed, your ass in the air as he drives your further into the mattress, your moans muffling into the pillows as your try to keep up with the relentless tempo. You finally tip over the edge right before Az spills himself inside you, your combined release makes him let out a roar so loud the birds flee from their nests in the trees.

He watches himself spill out of you, thrusting it back inside with two of his fingers.

You whine in overstimulation as he crooks his fingers inside of you, he lets out an amused huff as he gently strokes your shaking thighs. Azriel waves a hand, and you hear the water in the bathtub start to run. You stroke a gentle path through his night-dark hair as he leans into your touch. 

Yes, spring may be coming soon. The time with your husband dwindles to sparse moments in a dying winter fire, but as Az scoops you into his arms to take you to the bath you enjoy every single moment you have left.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #acotar fanfiction #acosf #azriel spymaster #azriel smut

[meidnightrain]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS❞ - aventurine

summary: even if you’d lose, you’d always bet on this doomed love no matter what

warnings: reader is gn, 2.1 penacony quest spoilers, angst, hurt/no comfort

notes: i love this song so it was only fair for me to write this out for aventurine, i’ve been in the mood for angst lately so this came to be. had to repost this two times because tumblr kept hiding my post from tags 😭

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @ryuryuryuyurboat

there’s a resounding silence that eats you up in the aftermath of it all. people would describe it as thick enough that you could slice it and plate it like a cake. not this time, it’s empty, like someone is missing, and that absence has torn a rip in the very fabric of your soul.

it was your fault anyway, for betting on losing dogs when this all started. you knew that this outcome was inevitable; for what else would a gambler love more than betting his all even with stacked odds? AVENTURINE was different—oh, so different—than all the other people that had tried to woo you before. with carefully calculated moves and a meticulous plan to win your heart, he had struck gold with you. but the two sides of him were in stark contrast, hiding the other vulnerable side of him that no one could ever see. that was, until you came along and tore down his stone walls like they were paper.  

and you would have done it all over again, betting on losing dogs even if it meant that your heart would get smashed into smithereens. he never needed to give you money or whatever luxuries he’d bribe others with to make a deal, for your heart would drop whenever you heard his name.

a bad ending was inevitable to this doomed narrative, an outcome far outweighing the positives. did it matter whether you’d get broken over and over again, trying to love someone broken? you’d rip out pieces from your heart and give them to him so he could fill the missing pieces of his. but you both still stayed anyway, despite knowing how this would all end, and you’d always call him your baby.

he was reluctant to love; it’s easier to bet it all when you have nothing at stake if you fail, but you were on the line. it would be a lie to say that he was fearless and always confident in his abilities, which would wiggle him out of any situation. sometimes, a blessing from the gaiathra triclops could only bring you so far, and he worried about when that luck would run out. he could never match the love you gave him, unable to leave this loop and cycle of self-hatred that had followed him all his life. how could AVENTURINE tell you, who treated him like he was the world to you, that he was only worth 60 tanba?

the air in the dreamscape always had this sickly sweet smell of soulglad that would tickle your nose and make you sick to your stomach. was that how you felt about this doomed love—feeling sick knowing that this could only end badly?

“i’m afraid that i’m going to have to bear this burden; this feeling of knowing something inside you is constantly missing. and that something is you.”

he doesn’t look at you; his expression is hidden behind the shadows, obscuring his face. some would compare him to a peacock, his train feathers in a dazzling display like the cards in his hand. but the feathers will eventually fade, like how luck eventually runs out.

“one day, it won’t be there anymore. i don’t know when that day will come, but i want you to know that i…will always love you.” 

“but i love you more than you could ever imagine, and that’s why that feeling will stay with me till the end of my days. it’s because you’re going far away, somewhere i can’t follow.”  

this time, AVENTURINE doesn’t offer you solace or comfort; he stands with such stillness that you could have mistaken him for a statue. no words, no movements, no comfort, no reassurance. he knows that his time is up; the very thing that he’s craved for so long has come, but at the price of your heart. torn between you and the freedom that he’s sought all his life, he chooses himself. so he chooses to walk out the door, with his heart in his throat and it’s like all of you leaves with him.  

the aftermath is silent and cold, unforgiving like the cool waters that would rain down from the sky of sigonia scarcely. it’s deep, and it’s bone-chilling, pushing your head down under the raging waves relentlessly as you sink helplessly into the water with no one to pull you out. the dreamscape is in disarray. the family and their loyal dogs scrambling to keep up appearances and re-opening the theme park despite its stage being decimated by his show, his performance, and the grandest death that he always dreamed of having.  

looking at the torn sky of this horrid nightmare, you can’t help but wonder why you bet on this failed dream when you’d know that you’d lose and pay for your place by the ring. perhaps it would have felt better if you could have looked into his eyes when he was down—one last time with those eyes that had pierced your soul and crumbled your walls. 

AVENTURINE would always win the gamble, even if it meant that he would lose the bet and everything else in the process. you had lost dismally for you’d always wanted him, even if it meant destroying yourselves in the process. and it wouldn’t have been as bad if he had been over you, looking into your eyes as you came right back to him like always. but this time, you were the one who let him slip through your fingers and you were left with nothing but your broken, bleeding heart and false promises of a home you could never return to. he told you forever, that was how long you’d be together and how long you’d call him your home. but forever was too short and the house was haunted now.  

and you’d cry thinking of all the words he’d said to you. his affirmations, his compliments, the whispered ‘i love you’ behind closed doors paired with a kiss, and the arguments that’d have your heart racing faster than the speed of light. and you’d cry even harder thinking of all the words you could have said but never did.

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine angst #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst

[blues824]

I Love You, Malleus... But You're Not Mine...

Word Count: 9862 Female Reader Genre: Angst

The dragon fae was torn.

He knew that he would have to be wed to someone soon in order to inherit the crown. 

Also… his grandmother was nagging him to marry someone because she was growing older and she wanted to see her only grandson be married.

The only issue was that no one in Briar Valley really managed to capture his eye nor his heart. They all wanted to be married to him either for his money or power, or to escape their families. 

Actually, some of them did not wish to be married to him and were in love with someone else entirely, and he granted them liberty to marry who they wished.

Malleus was torn. 

So, he went to do what he always did whenever he was torn.

He walked over the bridge and through the woods.

In the woods, he would talk to himself and to the trees and animals. The wintertime meant that there was also snow and ice upon the ground. When that happened, the moonlight would reflect off of the glittery surface of the snow. It offered peace to Malleus to see the view.

Well, now was a better time than any to practice his vows.

He took out the ring that he had in his coat pocket, turning it over and over with his fingers, contemplating.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.”

He lifted his hand, palm up, as though he were actually marrying someone beside him. He stepped forward three times as he said the line.

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

There was no real cup, so he just summoned a chalice with his magic and a bottle of wine. He was above the age limit for consuming alcohol in public, so it was alright. He poured the aged liquid into the cup, and then took a sip from the cup. Of course, his bride would then also sip from the cup right after. However, there is no bride as of right then.

“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness”.

He took a twig from a nearby tree and acted as though it were a candle. In the specific spot he was in, there was a tree stump that acted as the podium at an altar. On it was a small piece of bark that he used as the ‘flame’ with which he was to light the candle. 

Then, he set the twig down.

“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

In retrospect, the prince was asking himself why he didn’t ponder the curiously skeletal shape of the branch he placed the ring upon. However, it didn't matter, as the wind started whirling around him. Leaves started making a small-scale tornado around the branch on which he placed the ring… until a woman stood in the center.

She was as radiant as she was dead.

Her skin, or rather, where it existed upon her body, was smooth. One of her hands had no skin on it at all and was all bone. In the bodice of her wedding dress, he could see her ribcage. She was wearing a veil over her head, attached to a crown of flowers arranged in a multitude of different shades of blue. Peaking out of the tulip-cut skirt of her wedding dress was her skeletal leg. She was wearing white heels. In her hands, she held a bouquet of blue flowers, similar to her crown.

Understandably, Malleus was entranced but kind of frightened by the corpse he was seeing before him. His flight or fight response had not kicked in yet, not until he heard her whisper two words:

“I do.”

She then reached out towards him and started walking to him. The dragon prince, who had gone even paler than he already was, stayed still.

As she got closer and closer, he saw how the moonlight enhanced your figures, and he felt his heart beating faster. The woman leaned in, to the point where her nose was grazing against his.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Then everything went black.

~~~~~~~~

It took him a while to wake back up, and when he did he was in for it.

“Oh, look! He must have fainted. Are you alright?,” he heard the woman ask as he started to open his eyes.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a breather!” A skeleton man said.

“He’s still soft!” A skeleton boy exclaimed while jabbing at the prince’s torso with a stick. Malleus backed up into the bar, unsettled by what was going on around him.

Two skeletons dressed as soldiers clinked their beer steins toasting to the “newlyweds”.

“Newlyweds?” Malleus was quite confused as to what they were talking about. He stood up, trying to take in his surroundings.

“In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly,” she had a dream-like tone in your voice as she showed him the ring he had placed on your bony hand.

“I did, didn’t I?” Further leaning against the bar, he rubs his temples as though he were trying to remember something. Then he heard little legs crawling on the bar itself. 

He turned to see a walking head along with a few cockroaches. His eyes widened in silence as he backed away from the bar.

“Hello, my name is Paul! I am the head waiter, hehehe,”... the head was speaking. “I will be creating your wedding feast!”

All of a sudden, Malleus felt something hit the shoulder she was standing next to. When he turned to see what it was, a maggot was peeking out of her eye…’s socket. Her eye was, in fact, now on the floor.

“Wedding feast?! I am salivating,” the maggot said.

She gasped as she covered your eye socket, clearly embarrassed that it happened. She tried laughing it off, but it was a bit too late.

Now, to be fair, he recognized that he must be in a land of the dead. After all, there were skeletons all around, and his supposed bride was a decaying corpse. However, that did not leave him at peace. He was actually more disturbed when he came to that realization.

He squeezed out from between her and another skeleton and started creeping back in the other direction. He eventually reached the soldier skeletons, and that’s when he saw that one of them was impaled with a sword. He unsheathed it and turned on everyone.

“I need some answers before we proceed with anything. What’s going on here? Where am I? Who are you?”

She stepped forward and started fidgeting with her hands before saying, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“What a story it is…” a voice from the shadows on the stage emerged. “A tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.”

“This is gonna be good.” The skeleton who was formerly impaled by the sword Malleus was holding right now spoke, gently taking back the sword.

“Hit it, boys.”

~~~~~~~~

One catchy but macabre musical number later, Malleus understands where he is. A few of the people down here were people he recognized. Old fae folks and humans alike rejoiced with each other, and it was beautiful to see. There was no judgment between the two species, which means a lot of them died prior to the war.

Well, they were dead. There would be no point in harboring resentment towards each other if you’re stuck with each other forever anyway.

Anyways, her story made him angry. How dare that man turn her down?! She was beautiful and kind, and all she wished for was to be a bride. Even though it had only been a day, Malleus found himself drawn to her. In fact, right at this moment, they were walking arm-in-arm to the cliff to gaze over the town.

The sight was beautiful. The moonlight made its appearance again, and the dragon prince breathed in the night air.

“Isn’t it beautiful? It takes my breath away…” The woman let go of his arm and twirled, her veil trailing after her.

“...Well, it would if I had any,” She giggled before sitting down on a bench, patting the seat next to her. He, with gentle steps, made his way and sat down next to her. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to have your name. After all, I do believe a groom should have the name of his bride,” Malleus stated after a moment of silence.

Well, that’s a great way to start a marriage.

“Shh… Shut up!” The woman hit her temples before smiling at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“My name is Malleus Draconia, prince and crowned heir of the Briar Valley.” Her eyes widened in shock at his response.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you!” She pulled out a box and placed it in his lap with care, taking the required measures so as to not startle him. Not to worry, as he was quite excited about receiving a gift from his… wife? She then whispered something, “It’s a wedding present”.

He lifted the neatly wrapped box up to his ear and shook it gently, seemingly trying to find out what could be inside. The corpse beside him let out a small gasp of shock before recovering with a smile.

Once he unwrapped the bow and opened the box, he saw a bunch of bones… including a skull. Malleus immediately recognized it to be a stray dog that he found in his youth. Growing up isolated meant that he hadn’t many friends, so when a dog made its way to him in the forest, who was he to turn it down?

The lid clasped itself back onto the box out of nowhere and started rumbling in the prince’s lap before falling to the ground. Then it went still before the lid burst open and out jumped a skeletal dog, barking and everything.

“Samson?” Malleus asked, wondering if the dog could hear him. The cadaverous canine jumped into his friend’s lap, excited to be reunited. “Samson! My dog, Samson!”

“I knew you’d be happy to see him.” The woman beside him exclaimed. The prince had nearly forgotten about her presence.

“Who’s my good boy? Sit. Sit, Samson, sit!” At his owner’s command, the dog sat down. 

“Good boy, Samson. Roll over. Roll over!!!” Now, the way that the dog did it was quite unusual. His head remained upright as the rest of the body rolled over.

“Play dead.” The dog let out a whine when Malleus realized his mistake. Both recovered, and Samson jumped into his wife’s lap instead.

“Awww, what a cutie!” She exclaimed.

After a few seconds of quiet between the newlyweds, save for Samson’s panting, Malleus spoke.

“My grandmother did not approve of me keeping a stray. Nor did Lilia,” Malleus trailed off, remembering from his childhood that he hadn’t any friends apart from the staff who were forced to play with him.

“Would she have approved of me?” His bride asked.

“I would very much like to think so, but I wouldn’t know… What if we were to go meet her?” He proposed.

“That sounds wonderful! Where is she buried?” She asked with enthusiasm and excitement in her tone. It pained him to be the bearer of bad news.

“I am afraid that they are still with life, my dearest,” He lowered his head, a bit embarrassed and thus focusing on Samson.

“Hmm… that is a problem…” The corpse bride brought her hand to her chin in thought, wondering how they could get to the Land of the Living.

Then, Samson started barking at you. 

“No, we couldn’t possibly,” Luckily, Malleus was well-versed when it came to speaking with animals, but he did not know who ‘Elder Gutknecht’ was.

“Well, if you put it like that…” She was responding to the dog, as though she was having a full conversation with him.

“Who is ‘Elder Gutknecht’?”

“He is the person everyone goes to when they have matters concerning the living realm. Now come, dear husband,” the woman held her hand out, and the prince took it, and the pair made their way to the Elder’s room.

~~~~~~~~

“Elder Gutknecht? Are you there?”

If I’m being honest, Malleus has no idea who you both are looking for. Samson is trailing behind the two of you, the three of you moving with grace up the stairs. One thing he noticed was that there were books and candles everywhere. He made sure that he didn’t trip over anything nor make anything fall.

“Is anyone home? Hello?”

Unfortunately, Samson did not take those same precautions and made a pile of books fall over, startling what seemed to be a full murder of crows. The lantern that lit up the place started swaying from the force of wind from the birds’ wings. Then, a hand reached up to steady the lantern.

An old skeleton, coughing, a whisper of a beard on his chin, and half of the top of his skull lifting, made his appearance.

“There you are!” Y/N exclaimed.

Placing his glasses on, the presumed Elder Gutknecht spoke, “Huh? Oh, my dear. There you are.”

“I’ve brought my husband, Prince Malleus Draconia.”

“What’s that? Husband?” The Elder scratched his skull, making the lifting plate lift even more.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Malleus called out, not sure if the skeleton could hear him.

“I believe the pleasure would be mine, Your Highness. After all, it’s not everyday that you find yourself in the presence of living royalty… especially if you’re dead.”

“Anyways,” Y/N butted in, “We need to go up. Upstairs? To visit the Land of the Living.”

“Land of the Living? Oh, my dear,” The skeleton had a disappointed tone in his voice as he started making his way down the stairs that led up to his podium.

“Please, Elder Gutknecht.” The woman clasped her decaying hands together in hope.

“Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?” The elder responded.

“Sir, I beg you to help. It would mean so much to my wife and I.’ A small gasp of shock made its way out of Y/N’s mouth. For so long… she wanted to hear herself be called a wife.

“I don’t know… It’s just not natural.”

“Please, Elder Gutknecht. Surely there must be something you can do?” Y/N took the old man’s hand in hers and looked into his eyes, pleading.

“Hmm… Let me see what I can do.” Elder Gutknecht patted the back of her hand. “Now, where did I put that book?” He then started looking everywhere; in the cabinet, in the drawer, and he started going through his piles and piles of books. That was, until he checked the bookshelf and found the book he was looking for. “There it is.”

On the way back up to his podium, he grabbed three bottles of things akin to potions as well as a chalice, as per Malleus’s guess. A crow was perched up there already, waiting for his master’s commands.

Elder Gutknecht started flipping through the pages of the book, muttering to himself, before he stopped at a certain page.

“I have it.” Y/N let out a gasp of excitement. “A haunting spell of sorts. Just the thing for these quick trips…”

Leaning to the side closer to her husband, Y/N whispered, “So glad you thought of this.”

“Me too, darling.”

The old man took two of the bottles and poured some of the liquid contents into the chalice before taking some ashes out of what the newly married couple realized was an urn and adding them into the concoction. Then, a feather from the crow was added in, and it dissolved immediately. A little cloud of red smoke popped out of the cup, making the skeletal man cough. He took the chalice in his hand, and it looked like he was going to splash it on the two below before he drank all of it.

“Now, then…” He let out a belch. “Where were we?”

“The haunting spell?”

“Ahhh…” He grasped the crow on his podium by the neck and squeezed its stomach, making an egg pop out. Malleus and Samson flinched while Y/N didn’t seem phased.

“Ah, here we have it. Ready? Just remember: When you want to come back, say ‘hopscotch’.”

Y/N giggled at the childishness of the word, asking, “Hopscotch?” with an amused tone.

“That’s it.” He cracked the egg on the podium, and out of the egg came a gas of some sort.

All of a sudden, the married couple found themselves under the moonlight once again.

~~~~~~~~

Back at the palace, everyone was worried. Some of the servants have been fainting from panic…

The prince had vanished.

Queen Maleficia is very close to sending out the entire military that Briar Valley has to go looking for her grandson. General Lilia is separating the soldiers into groups, and assigning those groups to different parts of the Valley. Sir Sebek and Sir Silver are paired together as leaders of two of those groups, going to make their way into the forest section.

It was very unlike Malleus to just vanish without a trace, so everyone figured that he was taken. It also must be someone stronger than him, as you wouldn’t be able to capture the 5th most powerful mage if you didn’t have magic.

The villagers have also joined the search efforts, but there were folktales spreading about the danse macabre. It was All Hallow’s Eve, and a tale passed down for generations was that Death would come up with the dead and dance. Maybe their prince had joined them?

That was what caused the frenzy to begin with. Everyone knew about that tale, and if Malleus had joined the celebration of the dead, then he wouldn’t be seen until the following year.

Lilia gave the order, and Sebek’s squad and Silver’s squad made their way over the bridge and into the woods to go find the dragon prince.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N took in the glow of the moonlight, tears coming to her eyes as she stared at the moon itself for a few moments.

“I spent so long in the darkness, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

At that moment, a butterfly flew past her face, causing her to giggle at its purity and innocence. Malleus also had a grin as he followed the butterfly with his eyes. However, that is when he realized that the butterfly was just as blue as the flowers upon her crown.

Y/N inhaled deeply, before stepping forward and twirling about in the snow. The trail of her mother’s wedding dress as well as her veil almost floated so delicately and gracefully behind her.

“My lady, might you give me this first dance as my wife?” She stopped when she heard Malleus ask, and a tear fell down her cheek as she nodded. He held out his hand to her and she accepted it, being pulled into his chest.

The two of them would have to thank their dance instructors, Y/N from when she was alive, and Malleus from when he was a boy. Sure, the steps they were doing were rehearsed, but the connection that the two felt was real.

Suddenly, Y/N’s skeletal leg snapped, making her fall. Luckily, the bones were only disconnected at the joint, so she easily snapped it back into place.

“Are you alright?” The dragon prince was understandably alarmed, as his magic could do no good upon a dead person. After all, magic is alive itself.

“I am quite so. It happens quite often,” she giggled, a bit embarrassed. Malleus smiled before they continued their waltz in the snow for a few more moments. Then, they walked hand-in-hand over to where Malleus knew would be the road back.

That is when Malleus had an idea.

“What if you were to stay here and I could bring my grandmother to you? I believe everyone would erupt in a ruckus if they saw me walking with a mystery human woman.”

“Ah, that’s right. I was here before the conflict. That should be fine. I will wait right here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And so, with that being said, he set off into the forest, alone, on the path he had traversed many times before, to go bring his grandmother to meet his new wife.

~~~~~~~~

About 20 minutes into the journey, Malleus heard something close by.

“THE PRINCE IS HERE! WE FOUND HIM!” 

The said prince’s neck snapped toward the direction he heard the voice come from. He recognizes the lady’s voice. She was one of the people that his grandmother had set him up with for marriage, and she was one of the ladies who wanted him for his status.

He heard marching, and he saw his former retainers: Silver and Sebek. In seconds, he was face-to-face with them, the lady mentioned before clinging to his arm.

“Your highness, we have been searching for you for hours! Where have you been?” Silver asked, making sure that the surrounding forest was clear and that the lady was in no danger.

Sebek didn’t say anything. He was moved to tears upon the recovery of the prince, his personal hero, who he revered and worshiped.

“I was strolling through the woods, and I got lost.”

“Sire, with all due respect, I didn’t think it was possible you could get lost,” Silver found the prince’s response to be a bit suspicious, but didn’t think to question him further. After all, he had orders from Queen Maleficia herself to bring her grandson back.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Prince Malleus, we must be taking our leave now,” Sebek bowed down as he stated. He then told Silver that he could take him back while he escorted the lady back to her own manor.

However, as Silver began to lead the way, he noticed that he was not being followed. He looked back and saw that Malleus was looking in the direction from where he came. 

Perhaps he did dance with the macabre.

“Your highness?”

Malleus snapped out of his trance before going to follow the knight. This might be an easier way to speak with his grandmother, so he followed Silver. 

~~~~~~~~

This is the voice of your conscience… Listen to what I say:

I have a bad feeling about him. You know he is no…

An all too familiar voice made itself known to you, and you rolled your eyes. You reached up to your ear and hit the side of your head, making Maggot shoot out into the cold snow.

“Go chew someone else’s ear for a while. Malleus has gone to get his grandmother, just like he said,'' To say that you were annoyed would be a tiny bit of an understatement. However, you couldn’t help the feeling of loneliness once again drape an arm about your shoulder. You missed your husband already.

“If I hadn’t just been sitting in it, I would say that you had lost your mind!” 

“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason… for taking so long.” You crossed your arms in your lap, letting the doubt get into your decaying mind. Maybe Maggot was right.

“Oh, I am sure that he does. Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Alright, I will.” With that, you stood up, and began to follow your husband’s footsteps, picking Maggot up as you went.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus should have expected this. 

His grandmother, Queen Maleficia, had overreacted upon being reunited with her grandson, and locked him away in his room, placing a magical barrier to prevent him from leaving. Not only that, but he had learned that if someone were to find him first, more specifically, the women that the Queen had lined up as his suitresses, they would get his hand in marriage.

One small issue with that: he was a taken man now, and he had no plans in betraying his wife. She was beautiful, a free-spirited person to boot. She knew music and understood the beauty of both human and fae-kind. He was starting to miss her, and while he tried to tell his grandmother, she was not hearing it.

“Oh, Malleus, darling~”

And there was that insufferable voice.

Lady Aerwynn, the lady who had ‘found’ him in the forest originally, was the one set to marry him. She came from a long line of fae nobility, a green flag in his grandmother’s eyes.

To be quite frank, Malleus found her insufferable. She was only looking to gain power and influence, not his love. That’s where he loved his undead bride. She loved him before she even knew his name or title.

“Yes, Lady Aerwynn?”

“Well, soon I am going to be Princess Draconia. But anyways, I was wondering which shade of white would look best with your suit? After all, I need to make a good impression on the people at our wedding!”

“Lady Aerwynn, I need to inform you of something. I already have a bride. I am happily married to someone. Our wedding would be unlawful. If you could go get my grandmother, I can explain everything and you could be free to marry anyone else.”

This seemed to make her upset. Tears started welling up in her eyes as she heard what her ‘fiance’ was saying to her. 

“It’s not true! You just don’t want to marry me! Well, I don’t care! We’re getting married, whether you like it or not!”

All of a sudden, the window burst open. A large draft of wind swept through the room, putting out the candles and the fire within the fireplace. Malleus turned to see his wife, his true wife, on the balcony, fixing her veil out of her face. He had never been so relieved to see her.

~~~~~~~~

“My darling, I just wanted to meet-” Once your veil was out of your face, you were able to see your husband with another woman in his arms. However, you quickly brushed it off as the wrong place at the wrong time.

However, the woman let out a gasp of shock at your appearance.

You reached over and grabbed Malleus’s arm to pull him towards you. You wrapped your arm in his, making sure that the strange living woman knew that he was yours.

“Darling? Who is this?” You asked.

“Who is she?” 

“I’m his wife.” You extended your hand with the wedding ring on it towards her, letting the moonlight reflect off of the glistening golden band.

“Malleus? What is the meaning of this? You’re not going to marry me because you’re married to a corpse?!” Lady Aerwynn was only getting angrier, as were you.

You felt betrayed. You snatched your arm from Malleus and stared menacingly at the woman.

“Hopscotch.” You snatched your husband’s arm before sinking back outside, a murder of crows flying in a circle around you two until you were back in Elder Gutknecht’s room.

~~~~~~~~

“You lied to me! Just to get back to that other woman!” You shoved Malleus away from you, again feeling betrayed. Emotions came punching you in the face, and you were first experiencing anger.

“You don’t understand, my love. She means nothing to me-”

“Oh, really? Am I preventing your marriage to her? Would you rather be married to her?” Tears were threatening to spill as you interrupted Malleus. “You’re married to me! She’s only the other woman!”

You turned around, not wanting to let him see you cry. 

Elder Gutknecht let out a cough before saying, “She’s got a point.”

Through sobs, you were lamenting the early and untimely death of your marriage. “And-And I thought… This was all going so well.” More tears fell. Your eye actually popped out of your skull from the pressure, rolling its way to the dragon prince’s boot.

He bent down and picked it up, giving it a brush against the lapel of his suit so as to clean it up a bit.

“Y/N, darling, you misunderstood everything. I-” He reached out his arm to give you your eye back, and you snatched it quickly.

“It’s my eye, isn’t it?” You popped it back into place.

“No! Your eyes are the most beautiful things I’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Prince Malleus Draconia.” “Don’t you see? My grandmother is attempting to wed me with Lady Aerwynn!”

“You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Can’t you see it was a mistake? You were never supp-”

You drowned out the last of the sentence. He thought your marriage to be a mistake. Maybe it was. Maybe Maggot was right, and you were in the wrong. All you wanted was to be a bride, as that dream had been stolen from you before.

Oh, yes. You were to be married to a wealthy fae that you loved so dearly about a century ago. You were one of the human nobility families, but the Wikora family was of lower standing at the time compared to yours. Your parents had forbidden the union for that very reason. Lord Piersym Wikora, to be precise, was the one you were to be married to. He was a mysterious stranger to you, having traveled about to many locations outside of the Briar Valley.

He stole your heartbeat, both literally and figuratively.

You walked off, the memories flooding back as well as the tears. It was time to give up on having a happy marriage, as you figured that matrimony between a dead human and an alive fae could never be compatible.

If only you had heard what he had said.

You were never supposed to see us like that. She wants to ruin my happiness for her own gain.

~~~~~~~~

In a desolate corner in the Land of the Dead, you could be seen sulking. Your veil was hanging upon a random stick of metal sticking out of the ground. You were sitting upon a broken coffin, a bench, if you will. 

“Roses for eternal love.”

You reached into your bouquet and snatched a rose head out, letting it drop to the ground in a messy fashion.

“Lilies for sweetness.”

As with the rose, you grabbed a lily and let it drop to the ground.

Upon seeing the third type of flower, you breathed in shakily before whispering the name.

“Baby’s breath.”

You tossed the bouquet away from you, feeling lost on what you were going to do now that your marriage was in shambles. Samson was with you, whining that his two owners were separated.

“Why so blue?” You looked over to see the Widow, someone who you looked up to as a motherly figure. Her six hind legs were lifted up in the air while her other two legs were acting as arms.

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe it was a mistake.”

Maybe he should have his head examined.

You reached into your ear and pulled out Maggot, holding his tail between your pointer finger and thumb.

“I could do it!” Maggot exclaimed.

“Or maybe he does belong with her, Little Miss Living, with her rosy cheeks and beating heart. Plus, she’s a fae. I’m human.”

A heart can break once it’s done beating, you guess.

~~~~~~~~

“It’s true, Your Majesty! Malleus is married to a dead woman!” Lady Aerwynn looked the worse for wear. Her blonde hair was out of place as well as her dress. She looked a mess, and quite like a delusional patient. “I saw her. A corpse! Standing right here with Malleus.”

“I beg your pardon? My grandson… married to a corpse? Are you sure you don’t have a fever, dear?” Queen Maleficia lifted her hand to the girl’s forehead, checking for any unusual warmth.

Yes, she knew of the danse macabre story. However, she did not believe in it. And she refused to believe that her grandson indulged in frivolous tales and thus ran away… especially since he was an adult in fae terms.

“Come here and let me fetch you a blanket. You seem to be a bit feverish, dear.” Maleficia had a servant fetch a wool blanket as she assigned another servant to make sure that Lady Aerwynn didn’t go outside and worry the citizens even more.

Her Royal Majesty tried using her magic to see if she could locate Malleus through sensory magic, but she came up with nothing. He was not even in Briar Valley, but he couldn’t have made it to another land in that short amount of time, especially since she put that spell on his room. So, she started considering the possibility of the danse macabre.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus had been wandering about for a while in search of Y/N. He wished to hear her voice once again, as he felt his heart aching for her.

Sure, it was only during the night that he had gotten to know her, but his draconic instincts were telling him that she was his beloved, the person he was destined to be with for all of eternity, and not even death could part them.

He turned the corner to a street he had walked on before, following Samson who had your bouquet in his mouth. It was the bar where this entire journey started. Where he got to know what had happened to you.

Upon opening the door, he heard the piano playing. It was finely tuned despite being so old. You were sitting at the bench, both your decaying and skeletal hands dancing on the keys. Malleus walked up quietly, placing the bouquet that Samson had given him onto the top of the coffin-style piano.

“I’m sorry, my love. I just wanted you to know that I have no wish to be with her. I am happy with you, not with her. She wants to ruin our happiness to gain power for herself.”

You said nothing, and you continued playing. You were at the lower end of the piano, playing the deeper notes. Malleus joined you on the bench, turning his body towards the higher notes.

His years of learning the piano would come in handy.

To compliment the melody you were playing, he decided to add a more lighthearted spirit by playing a few notes.

That backfired, as you glanced at him with a look of disdain. You turned back to continue playing, but Malleus responded with the higher-pitched notes again.

You watched with an annoyed look on your face, before finishing off the melody.

However, Malleus started another one. He looked at you as he paused for a few seconds, inviting you to join him. And so you did.

Much like the dance you both shared in the moonlight, you were also in-sync with your piano playing. It turned into an expression of the both of you, lighter notes symbolizing life and deeper notes symbolizing death. The song was a motif for the joining of both life and death.

But, you got carried away, and your skeletal hand broke off and continued playing despite the rest of you as well as the entirety of Malleus stopping. You let out a gasp of shock as your hand started dancing about on the keys by itself, running up Malleus’s arm.

Giggles emitted from the both of you, much like children. The dragon fae took your detached hand in his before handing it over.

“Pardon my enthusiasm.”

“I like your enthusiasm.”

You both leaned in a bit as he reattached your hand to your arm. You looked up and into each other’s eyes before-

“NEW ARRIVAL” The bell started sounding, startling you both.

“Lights up!” 

Everyone started flooding into the bar. Paul and his cockroaches started pouring drinks.

“Hurry up, boys. Vite, Vite! Bonjour! Bienvenue! Drinks for everyone! Another pint, sir?”

“Oh no, just a half.” The man who ordered completely split in half.

Paul whistled at his roaches, having them bring the beer stein over, which ended up knocking him over.

“It is impossible to get good help anymore!”

Ms. Plum started making her way through the crowd of people.

“Welcoming committee, coming through! Coming through! My name’s Plum. Miss Plum.”

Malleus turned to see who had exactly died, and he recognized the man. He was one of the servants tasked with caring for him when he was a youngling. He had always been on the weaker side, having a horrible cough. He was one of the few human servants still remaining in the castle.

His name was Mr. Nimbus, or Nimbus Redrose. He just grew up calling him Mr. Nimbus because of the stories he would tell.

“Mr. Nimbus? Is that you? It’s wonderful to see you again!”

“Your Highness? Why, everyone’s been worried sick! Well, not me anymore!” The man let out a loud laugh before patting the prince on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry about me, though. It was about time I passed.”

“Hurry up, boys! Can you not see the gentleman is parched?!” Paul addressed his cockroaches, exasperated at the slow rate of his staff.

“How is Lady Aerwynn?”

“She was purely hysterical from what I could tell. Her Royal Majesty is concerned for her, but she’s more worried about you.”

“Yes, I do feel horrible that I had taken leave without informing anyone of my whereabouts, but my night has gone better than it ever could have. She was truly insufferable.”

A random drunkard of a skeleton threw his arm around Nimbus, stumbling and slurring about, and he said, “Women; you can’t live with them… You can’t live with-” Then he fell down.

“Well, I guess it’s time for you to pick up the pieces and help them to move on.”

“Speaking of picking up the pieces…” The skeleton from before was on the floor in just a heap of bones, making Malleus amused. He would use his magic, but it didn’t work on the dead. So the poor, drunk skeleton was just left there to sober up.

However, your husband had more concerning matters on his mind. He needed to somehow inform his grandmother that he wished to stay in the Land of the Dead with you. With that, he walked off to start contemplating methods.

“Malleus? Where are you going?”

~~~~~~~~

Queen Maleficia rested her forehead in her hand as she sat upon her throne. This whole day had not gone according to plan. 

She was feeling horrible for trying to force her grandson into a marriage that he did not want. However, she wanted to at least give him a push to marry his true love before Lady Aerwynn.

The Wikora family was indeed powerful, as their family came from sprites and faeries directly. Aerwynn Wikora, the daughter’s name, was a faerie herself. She had a way with music that Maleficia found light and airy… much different to the Draconias. However, despite that being her style, her entire family was corrupt. They wanted more power, and they were second only to the Draconia family.

It had frustrated the Wikoras that it had become a trend for the Draconias to pick up human lovers and marry them despite them being taken by death so early. However, as we all know, a dragon must be with their true love in order to truly be happy.

Every so often, a maid would come into the throneroom and update her on Lady Aerwynn’s state. She seemed to be getting a tad better, which was a relief. However, her ramblings set an ounce of doubt in Maleficia’s mind. What if the story of the danse macabre was real? It could be the only explanation.

However, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have turned up in the forest in the first place.

~~~~~~~~

Malleus was walking around once again, as he tended to do when he was in deep thought.

You see, he knew that there was no way he could go back to the living world or else he would be barred from his beloved. But, the Briar Valley would need a king once his grandmother passed the crown onto him. He doesn’t know how well his subjects would take it upon hearing that their Queen is technically dead.

Then, he came across a door that he knew led to the kitchen. He peaked in to see you talking to the head chef, Ms. Plum.

“Oh, Ms. Plum. What am I to do? He just walked off without saying a word. Are all men like this?” You lamented. 

“Well, I’m afraid none of them are very bright. They get something stuck in their heads…” Mrs. Plum began her response before pulling a knife out of the head of her colleague and wiping it clean. Then she continued, “...and you can’t do a thing with them.”

Elder Gutknecht burst into the kitchen with a rather heavy book. It actually seemed to be more than his skeletal weight, and it made Malleus briefly concerned. It was flipped to a certain page, and Maggot resided on top of the page.

“My dear, we have to talk.” The Elder seemed burdened by something, which made the dragon prince worried.

“Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her!” Maggot seemed quite the opposite. Whatever misfortune had happened, he seemed to be fairly excited about it.

“What?” You seemed to have the same fear that was now residing in your husband.

“There is a complication with your marriage.” A gasp made its way out of you, and Malleus was pretty close, but he knew that this was not his moment to pop in yet.

“I don’t understand.”

“The vows are binding only until death do you part”

“What are you saying?” “Death… has already parted you.” Another sound of surprise emitted from you, and your hand flew to your mouth. You started to bite your nails in quick contemplation.

“I don’t think he would leave, but is there something you could do to make the vows binding?”

“There is one thing…”

“Oh, please, please, let me tell her!” Maggot interrupted. The suspense was drawing you and Malleus (who was still outside) towards the elderly man.

“...It requires the greatest sacrifice…”

“Go on, get to the good part~”

“What is it?”

“We have to kill him!”

A moment of silence fell on everyone. It was overwhelming for even the dragon prince to comprehend. 

Is he really willing to give up his life?

“What?”

“Prince Malleus would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living…

…and drink from the Wine of Ages.”

Elder Gutknecht pointed at the page his book was opened to, and it pictured a vial or bottle of something. Your hands clasped themselves over your mouth as you turned away. Your face held a look of disbelief and remorse.

“Poison…”

“This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you.”

Dropping to the floor, you bowed your head.

“I could never ask him…” A lone tear traveled down your decayed cheek.

“You don’t have to, dearest.” Malleus made his presence known, entering the kitchen finally. He extended his hands to you as he said, “I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant spending eternity with you, Y/N.”

You looked up in surprise, originally hinted with a bit of mortification. However, upon hearing what he said, the mortification wiped itself away.

“My boy, if you choose this path, you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?” Elder Gutknecht looked at the prince, waiting for his response.

Continuing to look into your eyes as he helped you up, he said, “I do.”

~~~~~~~~

“Gather round. Gather round, everybody! My soon-to-be-official bride and I have decided to wed each other properly, so grab what you can and follow us. We’re moving upstairs for a proper celebration.” Malleus shouted as he held your hand atop the foundation of a statue.

“Upstairs? I didn’t know we had an upstairs!” A lady in the audience exclaimed. Everyone was now buzzing with excitement for the wedding. They rushed off to prepare both the bride and groom.

“Ms. Widow? I was wondering if you could touch up my suit. I want to be looking the best I can for Y/N.” Malleus explained, also beaming with excitement.

“Why, of course!” She let out a loud whistle, and a few different spiders appeared. The feeling of them walking all over was a bit ticklish, but the dragon prince remained as still as he could.

Then, a hush fell over everyone.

The women started singing in a rather calming tone, announcing that the bride was there.

You walked down the stairs, bouquet in hand and your dress trailing behind you. Once again, Malleus had his breath taken away at your beauty. Some of the widows dropped down with your veil, placing it lightly upon your head.

The men joined in the singing as you twirled about.

Maggot was in tears, blowing his nose in a smaller-scale handkerchief. He just couldn’t believe that his dear friend was finally getting married. He was so proud.

Everyone made their way upstairs. There was a large cake following everyone as well that the chefs whipped up. It was extravagant to say the least, but so were the wedding festivities of Briar Valley.

~~~~~~~~

Queen Maleficia was torn.

She sat at the dinner table, accompanied by Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and the Wikora family. A simple soup was served for dinner, as no one could really stomach an extravagant meal. However, the Wikoras were not really appreciative of the dismal dinner.

Lady Aerwynn looked a tad better, some color having returned to her skin. She was not as feverish, but she was not touching her food. Her hair was brushed neatly, courtesy of the servants who were attending her.

That aside, the Queen was wondering how she was going to break the news to the Wikora family that Lady Aerwynn’s engagement to her grandson was invalid as per her orders. 

The entire room was silent, save for the flickering of the fire behind her in the fireplace and the scraping of spoons against the ceramic bowls. 

“Has there been any news about His Royal Highness?” Lord Piersym inquired. He was Lady Aerywynn’s older brother, and even more insufferable.

“I am afraid not. There are a few parties out in the woods searching for him.” Maleficia responded.

Then, the fire turned green. It cast an ominous emerald glow in the room, surprising everyone. They all stayed frozen still, only moving their eyes.

Creeping up behind the Wikoras were what Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Maleficia recognized as dead bodies and skeletons. The one behind Lord Piersym, their eye accidentally fell out of its socket and landed in his soup.

“There seems to be an eye in my soup,” he stated rather calmly.

That is when poor Lady Aerwynn ran to her wit’s end and started screaming. The knights were also considerably spooked at the happenings, but they came to the realization that their weapons were taken by the walking dead. They were left defenseless, basically.

Her Royal Majesty didn’t seem scared but rather on the defensive. This was living (?) proof that the danse macabre was real. That means her grandson would be back. All the living dead were headed a certain direction, she noticed, after spooking her guests and the knights. 

Lilia also seemed to notice that pattern and started leading her out of the castle and down the roads. A bunch of skeletons were climbing over the palace walls and into the village outside, so the two faes started making their way to a meadow, as that was where everyone was going.

All around them, couples who had lost each other because of death reunited, and it was beautiful. Typically, in Briar Valley, no one remarries once death has parted them from their first partner. Hence why Queen Maleficia has no king consort. So, to see that loved ones were able to see deceased loved ones again was truly magnificent.

After the reunions, they started heading towards the meadow where a wedding seemed to be set up. An altar of both dead and alive flowers (that symbolized death), as well as the typical wedding flowers (like roses, lilies, and baby’s breath, as mentioned before). The feeling of excitement was in the air, and Maleficia had never seen the village bustling with life like this before… pun intended.

Whispers made their way through the crowds of people, both dead and undead. From what Her Royal Majesty and Her Right-Hand Man gathered, His Royal Highness was repeating his wedding vows in the ‘Land of the Living’ to be with his true love.

…Lady Aerwynn was right. Malleus had, in fact, danced with the dead. Now he was going to join them alongside a dead woman he had only just met that night.

The severity of the situation was donning on both faes as they took their seats in front. More whispers of amazement at seeing the Queen as well as the (at their time of life) General as they sat down. 

The two let out a gasp as they saw Malleus teleport to the altar. His suit was a black coat with a green vest. A black button-up resided underneath along with a green tie about his neck. Black dress pants and shoes accompanied the rest of the outfit.

Gasps resounded from the rear of the venue and everyone turned to look. There you stood, your veil hiding your face. Because of its transparency, everyone could still see your face, albeit it was still slightly shrouded from view. You walked slowly down the aisle, as per tradition. There was no question about it: you were beautiful.

Maleficia could tell that you were once a gorgeous human woman. Actually, you seemed very familiar. That dress was one that she had seen before. 

You reached the altar and stood beside your about-to-be husband. At the podium stood a rather old skeleton with a rather large book and a bottle of what was presumed to be wine and an empty chalice. The officiant, the Queen guessed.

“Evening. Dearly beloved… and departed… we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage.”

Silence washed over the people attending the ceremony. It was like magic the way that everyone wanted to speak but no one dared utter a word. Malleus gently lifted your veil to reveal your face to everyone, and he swears that he is gazing into your eyes for the first time. The pure amount of love in his eyes could have made your heart begin to beat again.

“Living first.” The old skeleton pointed to Malleus, who turned towards you.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like he rehearsed, he raised his hand up and you accepted it, and he led you three steps forward. 

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” He took the empty chalice and lifted it up.

“Now you.” The officiant pointed at you. You realized that you would finally be able to say these vows in however many years since you were set to marry.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Just like you had rehearsed many times before, you took a step towards Malleus.

“Your cup will never empty, for I will be…” You opened the bottle and took it into your hand and started pouring the liquid into the chalice that Malleus was holding. But, you paused.

Malleus looked at you expectantly, wanting you to finish the vow so that he may drink the Wine of Ages, wanting to join you eternally in death.

“...I will be…” You came to the realization upon stealing a glance at the crowd. They needed a king once Queen Maleficia gave away the crown. Not just that, but Malleus still had his entire life ahead of him. He was signing it away just for a woman he had only met that night.

“Go on, my dear.” The elderly skeleton prompted. You focused your gaze back on Malleus, who had a hopeful but fearful look in his eyes. However, you did not have that hopeful look in your eyes to match. Malleus realized that.

You take a deep breath in as you go again, “Your cup… will never empty… for I will be…” It’s as though something is prohibiting you from saying the vows in their entirety.

“...I will be your wine.” Malleus finished, going to drink from the chalice. However, before it reached his lips, you put your skeletal hand over it and brought it back down. The dragon prince looked at you in shock, but you looked down to avert his gaze.

“I can’t,” You looked back up at him, tears in your eyes. You were whispering so that no one else could hear you.

“What’s wrong? Speak to me, my love,” He whispered back.

“This is wrong… I was a bride. My dreams were taken from me. And now… I’m taking someone else’s life for my own selfish dreams.” Malleus was about to say something, but you stopped him.

“I love you, Malleus. But you’re not mine to have.”

You both were fragile in this moment as everyone was staring in suspense as to what would happen next. However, someone started clapping in a very slow manner.

“Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings.” The two of you could recognize that voice from anywhere, and that man started walking down the aisle towards you both.

It was Lord Piersym.

“Our young lovers… together at last. Surely now they can live happily ever after?” The antagonizing tone in his voice did not go unnoticed, and your was-to-be husband put his hand on the other side of your waist and pulled you into him, so as to not leave you vulnerable.

“But you forget… HE IS STILL MY SISTER’S HUSBAND BY ORDER OF THE QUEEN!!! THE WIKORA FAMILY WILL NOT LEAVE EMPTY-HANDED!!!” He screamed. Malleus was about to put an end to this by using his magic, but you stepped out of his grasp.

“You?” You asked. The dragon fae as well as the crowd watched as you walked to the edge of the plateau upon which the altar stood.

“Y/N?” Looks of recognition flashed on both Lord Piersym’s and your faces. 

“You.” Your face turned into one of disgust and hatred.

“But… But I left you!” The man turned as white as a ghost.

“...For dead.” Gasps emitted from everyone in the meadow. It seemed that even the animals that were still active went absolutely silent.

“This woman is obviously delusional! It would do you good to hold your tongue, you filthy human!” He pointed a sword at you, and while you were aware that you could not die twice, Malleus seemed to have forgotten about it. All he processed in his mind was that his mate was in danger. 

“You were set to marry me. You have no right to call me that,” you stated, diction quite clear and distinct.

“Touche, my dear.”

“Now, go away.”

“Oh, I’m leaving. But first! A toast!” He grabbed the chalice out of Malleus’s hand, lifting it in the air and turning towards the audience, who all had either surprised or angry faces, depending on if they were alive or dead.

“To Y/N! Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” 

Malleus was about to shout and lose his mind over what he had just said to you, but you took a step closer to him and kept a vigilant eye on Lord Piersym. 

“Tell me, my dear…

Can a heart still break once it’s stopped beating?” Venom laced within his voice, he, too, kept a vigilant eye on his surroundings. His words were enough to bring you to the verge of tears.

“Let me at him! Let me at him!” Maggot was furious. He wanted the death of the puny lord to be by his own ‘hands’ with how angry he was at that moment. However, Elder Gutknecht held him back with his finger, along with the rest of the crowd with his other arm.

“Wait! We are amongst the living! We must abide by their rules!” The Elder warned.

“Well said,” Lord Piersym said in response. He then lifted the chalice to his lips, as though to ‘cheers’ what he said. Then, he proceeded to drink all of the wine that was in the cup. He gave it back to Malleus and started making his way to the side and out of the venue.

“...Not anymore~” Maggot said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, as all of a sudden, Piersym Wikora doubled over, gasping for air. He could feel his magic drain from his body and be replaced with something else.

As I have mentioned before, dear reader… magic is alive. At least, the kind of magic that faes, trolls, and others have in the Land of the Living. The kind of magic that was being replaced in Piersym’s body was something unexplainable. It was like a dead magic. No, not dormant, and certainly not like a volcano. But a dead magic.

The lord looked up, and his skin was pale with a blue undertone to match. His heart had stopped. He was now a walking corpse.

“Yep. You’re right. He’s all yours,” With those words, Elder Gutknecht put his arms down and the dead in the crowd started making their way to the, now dead, lord. They dragged him back through the village, back to the Land of the Dead via the fountain in the center.

That left the living as well as you at the altar. The Moon was close to giving way to the Sun. You turned back to Malleus.

“Y/N, I made a promise to you when I proposed to you. I intend to fulfill that promise if you will have me.”

“No, Malleus. You have kept your promise. I loved dancing with you under the moonlight. You’ve set me free. Now I can do the same.”

Right then and there, butterflies started cutting their way out of the bottom of your dress and legs. It was as though you yourself were an image. You began to disappear as the butterflies flew away. 

However, Malleus was not ready to let you go without giving you a farewell gift. He gently pulled your… upper body… closer to him and placed a kiss on your cold lips. A tear escaped from his right eye. Then, you were gone.

~~~~~~~~

Maleficia didn’t know how to feel. However, there was one prominent emotion that made its way to the front of the line, and it was sympathy for her grandson. She stood up from her seat and made her way to Malleus, going to wipe away a tear and say something in encouragement.

“Grandmother, why does it hurt so much?”

“I am afraid, Malleus, that it is the one thing no potion or spell will be able to fix. You will have to recover on your own.”

This took forever, and I was supposed to have it out on Halloween but that clearly did not happen lol.

Thank you for reading! Like, comment, reblog, share, whatever lol.

#divider by cafekitsune #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst wonderland #malleus #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader

[xo-cod]

O.M.G! I love COD and Garcia from Criminal Minds (she’s my fashion inspo!) so you combine both, I’m on cloud nine!

Remember that episode/s where she got shot by an ‘Angel of Death’ unsub because he thought he was catching on to his crimes and tried/tries to kill her after taking her out on a date?

Well, imagine that happens to Penelope! Reader.

they'd take it so hard :( this can be read platonically/romantically i don't really know anymore LMAO 🤍

posted it again because i didn't like the way the first one looked <3 ooc/rushed!

part two

》》》 after the shooting 《《《

ghost was silent as his knee bounced while he waited for you to wake up, the room silent other than the beeping letting them know you were alive. and the occasional humming from soap who softly toyed with your hair, his fingers gently caressing against your cheek very tenderly. it had been like this for hours until heavy footsteps echoed through the corridors, letting them know the rest of the team were back

"got the bastard back at base" price spoke as he came back into the room with gaz. simon and johnny weren't to be trusted not to kill the man since they needed him alive so they both remained like glue, stuck to your bedside. even when one of the nurses tried to suggest to leave for a few hours to freshen up, ghost shot her a hard stare which made her back off in the same breath.

"she awake yet?" gaz was next, his voice gentle while ghost shook his head. his jaw clenched as his hands gripped the arm rest on the chair. seeing your state, seeing how vulnerable you were, seeing you dance upon the line of life and death and he couldn't do a thing.

"told her not to go on that bloody date. look at 'er now" simon's voice was harsh, angry at himself for not being able to protect you. hell, they weren't even the first on scene. your neighbours had heard the shot and worriedly called the ambulance.

"s'not her fault lt, she didn't know" soap spoke coming to your defence, his hand still cradling your palm in-between his big warm ones.

"christ's sake johnny, she got shot at!" ghost snapped, his brown eyes narrowing at the scot who sighed as he looked back down at you.

you were both the heart and brains of the 141, your intelligent analytical skills saving them more times than they could count but you were always so humble about it. you hadn't looked so frail before, gone were your pretty clothes and your little jewellery pieces. all you had on was a sickly hospital gown, catheters placed in different parts of your body accompanied with a breathing mask over your mouth

"how's the wound?" price interjected, removing his bucket hat as he came closer to the bed. his heart went out to the youngest of the team, it was never easy to see the sight of his soldiers injured and beaten down. it was especially never easy to see his soldiers laying cold on a bed, knowing their attacker was out and about

"she flatlined, messy wound. but one centimeter over and it would've torn right through her heart" soap spoke looking at price who nodded slowly as he came to the side of the hospital bed.

"a fighter" his voice was gentle, his thumb sweeping the apples of your cheeks ever so softly. silent for a moment as he glanced down at you, missing all the little eccentric pieces that made you you. but, you weren't dead. you'd be fine, he knew that. it didn't take the sting of not being able to prevent it any easier but you were a soldier, a capable one at that. you were fine, you were going to be okay

for now, they were to tend to pressing matters that lay for them back in base. and notably, none of them were going to be gentle about it. time was ticking, the quicker they dealt with the matter at hand the faster they'd be back to you again.

"take it easy, pretty. we'll be back soon" price bent down and whispered, his fingers fondly running through your hair before he straightened up with a swift nod and headed out the door to the car

"you're gonna be just fine, mama. i promise you" gaz whispered as he kissed your temple tenderly before leaning back, his eyes hardening as he remembered who put you in this position. the fear and pain you felt and they hadn't been anywhere close to you.

even if you were capable, even if you were one of the most intelligent soldiers on their team, you were the youngest. and each of them had taken you under this wing. someone had messed with you and subsequently, messed with them all collectively. he took a soft breath in, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your palm careful not to knock over the drips before he followed suit like price.

"when i come back, those pretty eyes of yours better be awake bonnie" johnny chuckled sadly, his thumb drifting over the bandage wrapped around your chest as he sighed softly looking back to your sleeping face again. he kissed your cheek hesitantly, too nervous to knock over the breathing mask.

he hated seeing you like this. you had grown to be one of his closest friends here and the fact that he couldn't protect you as well as he thought took a hit on him. soap had always taken things a little harder when it came to you, he couldn't wait to tear the bastard that had messed with you. he stiffened back up and followed the rest of his team out, one last lingering look before he left.

and then ghost eyed you, his brown eyes narrowing a little at your body. you were still, too still for his liking. and though he knew you were alive, he couldn't help but the rise of slight panic at the thought of you dead. it was irrational, he knew, but it happened to him before. being forced into a position he thought could never happen to him and then it did, his worst nightmare a living reality. but he'd be damned if he couldn't do everything in his power to protect you from the same fate.

"i'll be back, lovie. i'll make the sorry bastard pay for what he's done to you," his tone was cold, hard, determined.

"you'll be okay" a soft murmur, the reminder mostly for himself and to calm those nerves. he pulled his balaclava up a little to reveal his scarred lips as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. his fingers gently rubbing your skin, head leaning against your temple very slightly but still enough to feel you. to feel you alive and breathing, knowing that you were here and that you were going to be okay. a minute passed before he straightened himself up and looked at you with a nod.

leaving your hospital room with a new goal in his mind, to make the man pay for everything he ever did.

#asks #141 x reader #criminal minds au

[sorcerous-caress]

Hello!! I love your writing 😍 Would it be okay if you wrote Karlach, Lae'zel and whomever you wish with a tiefling!Tav that loses both a horn and an eye during a battle and can't quite find balance in their fighting afterwards bc of it?

Reacting to Tav losing a horn/eye

[Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, nb!reader, Tiefling!reader]

[Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Halsin]

Karlach

She swears she can still hear it, your agonised scream, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone being torn apart.

As if the world slowed down for a moment, an eerie quietness surrounding the battlefield for the uncomfortable stretched out seconds. Your companions turning to look at you, clutching your eye with your back hunched.

Dread filled her stomach, one of your horns laid on the bloody floor next to your feet.

She doesn't remember the rest. Only when she stood atop the burnt rubble of what used to be the battlefield, did the all-consuming rage fade away from her mind.

Karlach is immediately at your side after, apologising for not being there sooner.

She's by your side as you heal, making sure to bring you anything you might need. As your struggles to adjust to combat again in the aftermath become more and more evadint, she is one of the first people to suggest fully leaving combat to her.

Yes, you are capable. Yes, she has seen how strong you are. But sometimes life just doesn't go the way we plan it. You can relay on her instead.

You don't have to go back to the cruel world. You can let her take care of it. Karlach really can't afford losing you. She'd claw her way up the heavens and steal you away if your fate took a turn to the worse.

Laezel

She completely disagrees with Karlach. This is nothing but a minor setback if anything. Laezel completely has faith in you to relearn how to find your balance, and she'll teach you if she has to.

As long as you can still stand on your feet and carry a sword, then you can fight in her eyes. She will give her sincere apologies for letting you down in battle and not doing something before enemeis got the chance to best you, but besides it, you'll get no pity from her.

Why is everyone acting as if you died? You're clearly still the same strong and capable person she knows. If anything, each scar is evidence of how your enemies' failure to put you down, you should show your broken horn with pride.

She has enough self awareness not to impose her views on you, no matter how much she thinks her companions are being dramatic and oversensitive, is she noticed you being fully uncomfortable with her approach she will take her leave from your bedside.

But you got fed up with people infantlising you, then she will be the first to 6pull you back into an intense daily training routine until you regain your footing.

Wyll

While Karlach and Laezel were too busy arguing about your own fate, Wyll was there for you throughout every stage of healing. He knows what it's it like losing an eye. He can relate to the horror and dissociation that happens whenever you look at the mirror to see a piece of yourself missing.

He still hasn't gotten used to his own horns himself, and losing one of yours must have been painful to bear. He will stay by your side until you feel better, no pressure to discuss the future or your fighting abilities or anything.

Wyll will make sure you don't feel alone, that the dark thoughts don't consume you too much. Share you worries with him, let him help carry your burdens, please. It kills him seeing someone so dear to him suffer when he can't do anything or help.

Halsin

His heart breaks, seeing you coming back to camp limbing and bloodied that day. He prays to Silvanus to ease your pain as he takes shift with Shadowheart to nurse you back to health with healing spells.

Nature can be so unforgiving sometimes, to some animals, losing an eye or horn can be a death sentence.

But he has seen even the most withered of plants suddenly flourish and regain their strength, he has personally stayed up countless nights to care for the weak kittens that their mother refused to even acknowledge.

He has seen them grow, nurtured them into a strong healthy state.

Don't surrendered to the darkness, when the abyss starts whispering about how this is your end and how your potential was wasted you yell at the abyss, bite, claw and fight your way out of this rut.

True strength lies in the heart, give yourself time to rest, and don't rush your healing. Eventually, you'll be back on your own two feet with a new view on the world before you can realise it.

#♡Karlach #♡Halsin #♡wyll #♡Laezel #♡fluff #♡angst #♡hurt comfort #♡tiefling tav #karlach x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #laezel x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #tiefling Tav

[ineylesian]

— INHERITENLY UNJUST DESTINY

AVENTURINE X READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 900

WARNINGS — slight 2.1 spoilers, lowk angst, word vomit about aventurine’s lack of self esteem, sappy unconditional positive regard, handsy aven bc he’s touch starved, preesetablished relationship

SUMMARY — aventurine does not understand the twist of fate that allows him to stand beside you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — the lack of official aventurine art is making me gnaw at the bars of my enclosure, sloppy headers for now!!

Aventurine isn’t sure how to feel. 

The low hues of noon cast a gentle light upon his gloves, giving light to the sea of shattered stones that lie in his grasp. A sea of dazzling green, torn and fragmented beyond repair.

He’s sure he sees it now, a reflection of the wildly wretched life he’s lived sitting in the palms of his hands. The remnants of the only control he’s managed to retain in his life frail as dust in the winds. SIlent he remains, still as a pound dog that has had its bone ripped away from it. 

It isn’t until he feels the ghost of your hands along his own that Aventurine realizes his heart is racing. You spin him to face you, and his heart lurches at the worry that etches itself upon your features. He fights with narratives in his head that play games of fallacies, yet the scorch of his devotion to you leaves his tongue tied.

Facades are a game that come like second nature to Aventurine, but he swears he will not do to you what he deems business in his schemes. Instead, he pulls at what little honesty remains in the depths of his heart and his breath shutters. 

“Guess I’m back to where I was five years ago.”

The words come out quiet, too soft for his nature and simply small. It’s a confession that makes him wonder how many other pieces of his life will break apart until the whole is severed. There’s a fear that lingers within, bubbling to the surface as he attempts to withdraw from your hold.

Aventurine does not believe that his life holds any meaning with or without the cornerstone. Yet, that title made him seem as if he truly meant something, and without it, what little reign he held over his life disappeared. 

He believes you deserve fire, yet he is no more than an ember flickering on a stoked match. He cannot burn in flames bright enough to keep you.

Silently, he awaits your scold, the reprimand that deems him as worthless as he believes himself to be. A reminder that it was all but a stroke of luck that brought you to him, a trial that has run out as you see him for who he truly is, barren and scared.

His hands shake as you guide them to pour his shattered stone into the box at his feet. Shock etches itself upon his features, and he looks to you with nothing but raw, unparalleled fear as you speak. 

“You will always be the same to me.”

Aventurine does not understand the twist of fate that allows him to stand beside you. Single handedly, you vowed to peer into the wasteland that was his soul, and devoted yourself to his inherently unjust destiny. And, even as his life’s worth is ripped away from him, you love him unchanged.

An insatiable want carves at his soul like a day yearns for night, and Aventurine knows no other place to put his hands but around you in embrace. His hold is tight, as if he imagines that you will fade away if he abandons it. Yet, the weave of your fingers through his hair is enough to tell him that you’re no illusion, a sensation that will cease to disappear as long as he lives.

“Let me see you, Aven.”

Your words flow as lost prayers on the horizon do, and Aventurine retracts his grasp on you, allowing his knees to bring him to the ground. Your hands, gentle as streambeds in the spring, cup his face, running over spilt tears from keeled eyelashes. Instinctively, his hands latch onto your wrists, desperately chasing after your warmth and attempting to sear it into his skin.

Aventurine outwardly sighs as you run your fingers along his jaw, stopping to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind his ear. Although your gaze rocks with the deepest seas of adoration, the child deep within his heart beckons him to gamble with his luck once again. A risk that trails the faint quiver of his lips, as he would utter no such words to any other being in the entire cosmos.

“Will you kiss me?”

Wordlessly, you nod, and Aventurine closes his eyes. The soft touch of your lips quells the troubles that brew within, igniting fire against endless water. His hands fall to his lap, melting in the passion of your touch, and his heart craves to continue beating as if you are the oxygen that fills his lungs. 

He refuses to leave you until there is no air left for him to breathe. Gasping for the vitality of you that runs rampant through his veins, Aventurine tilts his head upward, and your heart flutters at the gentle smile that greets your gaze. Brilliant hues of purple and blue shimmer amidst the night, and his hold on you returns, hands moving to interlock themselves with your own. It’s the same gesture that holds you in the deep of dusk, never waning as lost prayers to the universe whisper behind closed doors. 

The words that follow are never far from you, spinning like soft woven silk that rests in your dreams when he’s away. Your eyes shut as he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, spreading warmth to your cheeks that subdue the chills of frosted wind. In yearn, you wait, reveling in the soft fan of his breath over your skin.

“I love you.”

#eleysiacalling #aventurine hsr #aventurine x you #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr x reader

[mingihttps]

turbulent

felix x fem!reader

you and felix broke up years ago, but now felix has the best idea on how to win you back.

wc: >700

warnings: established break up, felix wants to get reader back, mention of idol life and concerts

seeing your ex boyfriend’s face on billboards and hearing his voice on the radio wasn't exactly what you wanted. but you're proud of his success, nonetheless. a part of you wishes that you could've been there for him during this time in his life, be a person he could go to for comfort when he's too stressed. the possibility of that happening ended years ago, though, when you and felix broke up a couple months before his debut. within the years you two have been separated, you thought that you would get over felix. although, as of a couple months ago, the idea of moving on has gotten ten times more difficult.

a couple months ago stray kids had a comeback. you heard bits and pieces of their newly released music playing in stores and on the radio but what really caught your attention was the fact that one of their new songs was a love song. this love song was discussed often on social media, mainly that felix played a big part in writing the lyrics. you're the one who broke up with felix but the idea of him being with someone else hurt. naturally, you decided to listen to the song in full and that was when you realized that the lyrics were about you. felix wrote a love song about you years after breaking up. one thing that most stays didn't pick up on was the passive aggressiveness of the lyrics. it wasn't your average love song, the lyrics expressed hope and pain at the same time. was lee felix possibly still in love with you after all these years, after you broke his heart?

then last week, you got an email from jype. you had never expected to get an email from your ex boyfriend's company asking for permission to use your voice in one of stray kids’ songs. you didn't send back a response until two days later. you had asked what exactly they meant by ‘use your voice’, you weren't an idol or anything so you quickly knew that felix had something to do with this. and you were right, jype had said that they wanted to use audio clips of your voice that a member already has. the only information you got from their second email is that felix saved all of the voice messages you sent him when you were dating. not only that, but the fact that he still listens to them.

you had told the company that it was fine to use your voice in their song. you regret telling them that. it only opened up a new gateway of communication between you and felix. you were about to unknowingly cross a bridge that got torn down years ago.

since then, the song has been released and many fans were speculating who the female voice in the song was. jype has been giving you opportunities to come to the company and meet stray kids, which you always decline. you can't face felix again. that was until the company offered you one free concert ticket. it's one night and you'll be in a crowd with thousands of other people, there's no way he’ll be able to spot you out; so you decide to go to the concert. it was such a stupid idea, of course, they’ll give you vip and you’d be in the front row.

now, in the pit of some random venue, you are face to face with your ex boyfriend who stares at you from the elevated height of the stage. you stare back, giving him the most calculated glare, letting him know that you know everything.

you leave the concert not wanting another thing to do with lee felix or the rest of stray kids. unfortunately, those cards weren't in your favor. since in a couple of days you’ll not only get another email from jype but a text from a number you forgot you still had in your phone; a person who goes by the name lee yongbok.

requests are open !!

reposted from my old account

#stray kids blurbs #stray kids bios #stray kids bubble #stray kids bang chan #stray kids angst #stray kids x stay #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz stay #skz imagines #skz #skz felix #felix #lee felix #lee yongbok #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x stay #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix x female reader #lee yongbok x reader #lee yongbok x y/n

[judeswhore]

one love token; spencer reid

summary: spencer is more than happy about his not so innocent valentine’s day gift

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

requested: no but it’s vday :)

warnings: smallest hint at smut

notes: you can find my masterlist here

spencer was confused.

the pink envelope half hidden beneath his keyboard had drawn his attention the second he'd sat down, his hands pushing paperwork out of the way to set his fresh cup of coffee on the desk. when he tugged it free his eyes caught his own name, written in neat block letters with a tiny red heart acting as a full stop. the bullpen was quiet and almost empty, no sign of his usual co workers or his girlfriend, the only person he could think of that would leave him a valentine's day card. only, the two of you had already swapped cards and gifts that morning, still tangled beneath his warm sheets, the small strip of light peaking through the gap in his curtains the only thing allowing him to see the inscription you'd made on the first page of the new book you'd gotten him.

thumbing at the corner of the envelope, spencer wondered briefly if it was a prank, another one of morgan's terrible jokes that would have the scoreboard evening out. but when he flipped the paper over to see the back he was hit with the faintest smell of flowers, a scent he was extra familiar with and knew one hundred percent didn't belong to morgan. it was the soft floral scent that clung to all your clothes, that stuck to his bedsheets and his shirts long after you'd gone, a scent that spencer had decided was most definitely his favourite in the world. the groove of confusion between his eyebrows got deeper because why would you leave a second card at his desk?

he shook his head and peeled the envelope open, leaning back in his chair to pull the card free, a huff slipping past his lips when a smaller piece of paper fluttered to the floor by his feet. he didn't even look at the card at first, just set it in his lap so he could reach for the bit of paper, gripping it with two fingers before bringing it up to read. just like the envelope it was pink, clearly torn from one of your notepads and obviously hand written in your neatest print.

you'd drawn a heart in the middle, red like the one on the front, and had written the words 'ONE LOVE TOKEN' in bold inside the empty space, in smaller letters beneath 'valid until february 15th'. spencer's mouth tipped into a confused smile, and he flipped the paper to see if there was anything on the back. when he realised that side was blank he turned his attention down to the card in his lap, a surprised snort of laughter getting caught at the back of his throat.

he could feel the tips of his ears burning, his hands shifting so he could cover the design on the front of the card, more than aware of the fact morgan was lurking somewhere in the office and if he caught sight of the image spencer was sure to never hear the end of it. he tried not to look too flustered, brushed his fingers through his hair in an attempt to stop the curls sticking to his forehead. this card was considerably more inappropriate than the one you’d gifted him that morning, far too dirty to be on display at his desk and for a second he worried about what was inside.

the front of the card contained a single glazed donut sporting a smiley face and printed above in large unmistakable letters were words that spencer never thought he’d see. they were also words he never thought would cause a stir deep inside of him. ‘i want you to glaze my hole’ was the exact phrase and despite the laughter bubbling in his throat, he couldn’t stop the film reel that had started in his head, image after image of you flickering each time he blinked. clearing his throat he tugged a little at the knot of his tie, shifted in his seat and once again let his gaze do a sweep of the bullpen, eager to find you and discuss why you were trying to kill him.

it was as if you’d appeared out of nowhere, he was certain you hadn’t been standing in the kitchenette a few moments earlier, back pressed to the counter, a mug of what he knew was hot chocolate nursed between your hands. jj was at your side, talking excitedly, swiping through her phone but you weren’t paying attention. no. your whole focus was on spencer and he watched your lips form a teasing smile, your eyes darting between his and the card in his hand.

“open it.” you mouthed the words, nodded your head at the card and lowered your mouth to the rim of your mug to hide the ever growing smile and he narrowed his eyes. he knew the inside of the card was bound to be just as dirty as the outside and he hated that you were so eager to see him flustered and fumble in the middle of the office. he glanced around, noted that penelope was inside hotch’s office, case file in hand and knew it was only moments before his boss was gathering everyone up.

spencer looked back at you and rolled his eyes at your impatient shooing motion, your eyebrows rising as though to tell him to get a move on. he set it down on his desk, at an angle that made sure no one could really see and flipped it open, eyes immediately tracking the bright red lipstick mark beside his name. it was your lipstick of course, the shade he’d told you so many times was his favourite, the shade that was always guaranteed to leave stains on his neck, around his thumb, the base of his cock. the exact shade you just so happened to be wearing today.

he squirmed again in his seat at the flood of memories, tried to will his cheeks to stop burning, a familiar ache settling inside of him. fingers tugged his tie even looser, his mind uncaring at that moment that he was going to look more than a little disheveled when he got to the conference room. the lipstick wasn’t the only message on the inside, you’d written another little note highlighted by tiny hearts.

ONE LOVE TOKEN FOR THE BEST BLOWJOB OF YOUR LIFE, ANYTIME, ANYWHERE

so that was what the tiny slip of paper was for. at this point his entire neck and face had turned pink, hot to touch and his heart jumped when he lifted his gaze back to yours and you sent him that knee weakening innocent smile. your eye dropped in a wink and he let out a laugh, a breathless sort of sound that had you grinning ear to ear. closing the card he pushed it back beneath his keyboard, not exactly eager for someone to see, and tucked the handmade token into the pocket of his suit jacket before pushing out of his chair. he was headed towards you, a string of reprimands sitting on the tip of his tongue, followed by a couple of commands that he hoped would have you following him to an unused storage closet.

but cupid wasn’t on his side apparently. he was halfway across the floor when hotch’s appeared at the stairs. “we’ve got a case,” a pause. “florida.” spencer’s face twisted into a grimace that matched yours, turned and headed towards the round table, more than aware of the flush still on his skin and your eyes on his back, the token burning hot in his pocket.

he took his usual seat, watched rossi fall into the chair to his left and waited until you settled to his right, your foot knocking playfully into his ankle as a silent hello. your relationship was no secret to the rest of the team, it had been humiliating having to announce it to hotch, having to somewhat ask for permission to be together and even more humiliating to have the team find out because you’d been caught kissing in the car park. everything had worked out and as long as you remained professional, there were no issues but sometimes spencer found it difficult sitting beside you, your perfume making his chest fuzzy, and not being able to touch you, even in the smallest of ways. he settled for nudging you back with the toe of his shoe.

“you like your card?” you didn’t even look at him, kept your gaze on the case file, fingers flipping through the papers but he caught the small quirk of your mouth. your tongue swiped over your bottom lip and brought his attention down, his pulse spiking just slightly and his gaze narrowed. 

reaching into his pocket he pulled his token out, slid it across the table and placed it right in your line of sight before leaning across to you. his lips brushed the shell of your ear, innocent to everyone else but intimate enough to you to draw a shiver up your spine. 

he tapped once on the slip of paper and his next words left no room for argument. “i wanna cash in on this before we leave. bathroom as soon as we’re finished here.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler blurb

[brewed-pangolin]

Deafening Stillness

cw: depictions of migraines and symptoms

Johnny reads the signs the moment he walks through the front door.

Blackout blinds strung over every window. The television sitting calm and lifeless, and the usual boisterous sounds of your music defeaned by the heavy veil of silence that creeps through the halls of your shared home.

He keeps his footsteps quiet. Measured and methodical as he makes his way down the main corridor. Gently resting his dufflebag down on the floor outside the master bedroom as he meticulously turns the knob on the door.

And as he takes in the sight before him, his heart breaks. Knowing all too well the unbearable pain his love is engaged in.

--

It all started at the store. You were simply reading the baking instructions on the back of a cake box when the initial indications began to take hold.

A soft aura creeping like tendrils into the corners of your periphery. Glowing like a beacon that pulled you into a growing state of anxiety as you mentally prepared for the next symptom to make its debilitating presence known.

Quickly, you placed the cake box back into its alloted slot and moved towards the checkout aisle. The aura abated for the time being as you focused on paying for the few items you had managed to throw in your cart.

You moved with earnest determination as you crossed the chaotic parking lot. The ever growing throb sinking into the back of your head, vibrating down your spine and wrapping around the flesh of your neck as every step reverberated like thundering mallots into the surface of your skull.

Making it to the safety of your vehicle, you fumbled with the keys in your pocket with a growing tremor that echoed into your hands.

Desperate for isolation and quiet, you hastily hit the unlock button. Haphazardly tossing the bags into the passenger side and throwing yourself into the driver's seat.

You moved with increasingly wretched intent to make it home before the devastating effects would ultimately take hold. The aura subsiding, only to be replaced by a wave of nausea that bellowed up from the depths of your abdomen. Culminating in a fowl taste in the back of your throat as your mouth began to water in preparation for an eventual wave of dry heaves.

The notion of Johnny coming home had completely disappeared from your clouded and overwhelmed mind. The sole thought, single need pushing you forward, was to make it home in one piece and shut out the world. To dissolve yourself in copious amounts of medication and bathe in the defeaning stillness of silent darkness.

--

A single ray of light crept through a break in the blinds as Johnny gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the heavy blackness. Illuminating your pitiful figure wrapped underneath a mountain of blankets as he stepped ever so quietly into the bedroom.

The darkness of the room enveloping his form as he closed the door and shut out the world behind him.

Peeling off his war-torn wardrobe down and kicking off his boots until he was dawning nothing but his boxer briefs.

Your eyes twitched beneath your heavy lids as the muffled sounds of his belt buckle fell into your ears. The cold washcloth draped across your forehead soothing the sounds of his approach as the bed dipped to the addition of his bulking weight.

Still in the grips of immense pain and oppressive sensory overload, the thought of having any sensation of touch in this state at first made you pull away from him.

Yet it was the subtle scent of pine and an undertone of a musk that was so uniquely him wafting into your sinuses that had you nudging yourself back into his encompassing form.

His arm draping over the curve of your torso, meandering underneath the layers of weighted blankets and resting his hand in the center of your abdomen.

"I got'ya, bonnie. I'm 'ere." He said softly on a measured and attentive whisper. His breath fanning over the flesh of your neck as the heat of his body radiated against your pained and inert form.

You didn't respond. You didn't have to. He read the signs of your reply in the gentle touch of your fingers as your hand moved down to drape over his.

Drowning in the effects of medicated analgesia. And aiding to welcome the compassion and tenderness he emitted so naturally as he held you close and kept the world at bay until the pain would slowly begin to drift away.

-

Apologies if this isn't very good. It's all I could manage. But I didn't want to leave SSS empty. Love you all.

Drabbles Masterlist

#super soap sunday #soap squad™️ #deafening stillness #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap drabble #soap x you #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty #cod

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

change gendered language   &   add context to your needs . happy roleplaying !!  ♡

“ the best way to make beautiful art is to constantly expose yourself to new & exciting places . ” “ nothing makes me happier than seeing a plant i’ve grown from a seed produce a gorgeous bloom !! ” “ you have this magic ability to make people happy . i hope you’ll show me how you do it someday . ” “ it’s good to live in the moment & not worry too much about the past . ” “ isn’t that nice ?? we’re all just little clumps of stardust , walking around . ” “ i was so innocent back then , before i learned the cruel ways of the world . ” “ all i want to do right now is hop into a warm bed & not get out until the end of winter . ” “ come on , treat me like a pretty princess !! ” “ i’ll love myself by eating my favorite ice cream & wearing baggy clothes . ” “ lots of folks try to take the easy road , but that just means you’ve gotta deal with a lot of traffic . ” “ thanks for being my friend . you’re always there for me , & i think that’s great . ” “ there are some things you just don’t realize about places until you leave them . ” “ it’s like i gave you a little piece of my heart , & you kept it safe & warm . ” “ i don’t feel like i can trust anyone right now , so i need to be alone . ” “ were you being nice or sarcastic ?? ” “ no matter how much time passes , i can’t forget him . ” “ why think about boys when you could be thinking about really important issues ?? ” “ my dream is for everyone to find something they can be passionate about & to fully enjoy each day . ” “ i’m okay with anything , as long as there’s some romance in the story . . . ” “ you’re looking awful as ever . who dresses you ?? ” “ are you some kind of antisocial freak , or something ?? ” “ whenever we talk , i feel like there’s a lot more going on inside you than you ever let anyone see . ” “ you’re so passive - aggressive . get some therapy . ” “ sometimes , all it takes is a good friend to remind you of all the things you like about your life . ” “ if you waste your time doing something you enjoy , then you’re not wasting your time . ” “ i hope you get stung by a thousand bees . ” “ who decided oranges have to be named after their color , but bananas aren’t just called ‘ yellows ’ . . . ?? ” “ doesn’t the sight of petals falling make you feel sad ?? . . . makes me feel kind of sad . life is so fragile . . . ” “ if i pass out here , please make sure i have some lipstick on . ” “ you could give me bellybutton lint & i would still treasure it . ” “ when you laugh , you look dreamy . ” “ i hope you go to jail & that your stupid house is torn down . ” “ you are in need of some serious fashion first - aid . ” “ what sort of sadist would drag me out of bed this early in the morning ?? ” “ i have to drink ten gallons of mint tea every single day . ” “ well , you’re so pretty , it doesn’t matter what atrocious thing you wear . ” “ there are things you want to do & things you have to do . . . but don’t forget to do nothing now & then . ” “ please don’t question my driving or parking skills . you couldn’t even begin to understand the level i’m on . ”

#sentence starters #rp meme #rp prompts #rp starters #sentence meme #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay starters

[bowieandqueen11]

Monkey D. Luffy Confessing His Love For You Would Include...

Request: Hi! I absolutely loved your Straw Hat Birthday post 💖 genuinely didn't fancy Luffy until I read that and now can't stop thinking about him! I saw you wanted to write another post for him so how about a classic How Would Luffy Confess/Show His Feelings for you? I just know he'd be an absolute clingy weirdo about it 🤩 thank you!!

Awww thank you lovely!! SO glad to be sharing the Luffy love, and you're so right, he would be so clingy!! :)

Imagines always take a lot of planning and time to write, so comments are much much appreciated!!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @general-cyno.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look, Luffy HAD to release his feelings for you. Right now. If not for the fact that every time he was in a ten centimetre radius of you his whole body shook with such perfervid vibrations he's nearly left a gaping hole in the deck, Zoro's clenched jaw was dead giveaway that he was ten seconds from lobbing his Captain off the side of the ship.

If he had to hear about it one more time. It was bad enough Mr. Curly Brows finding his way to butt into every conversation: placing down his whisk so he could clasp his hands to his cheek and turn to Luffy with such pulsing hearts catapulting out of his eyes at the mere thought of romance. Even worse was being subjected to Luffy's tireless campaign; the incessant drilling of Luffy in trying to make sure every crewmate knew his every inner, cogitating... sappy thoughts about you was starting to eat into Zoro's much needed nap time.

On second thoughts, hearing solely Luffy talk about romance was far better than hearing both he and the waiter prattle on about it.

Zoro placed his palms over his eyes and tried to block out the way the cook had begun fanning himself with the bottom edge of his apron. 'You need to woo them, Luffy! Make them feel like they're the most stunning person in the whole world- the most important crewmate on this ship!'

Luffy took a break from tearing apart the third plate of roasted beef and fresh bread poor Sanji had spent all afternoon sweating in the kitchen to bake to glance down at the meat quizzically. No - not quizzically, much to Zoro's chagrin. Luffy's eyes widened; his head tilted as he rubbed his fingers together and let his meal clatter back onto the plate, his eyes brightening as if he were burnishing all the world's sunsets between his hands.

He looked yearning.

What Zoro didn't understand - heck, what even Luffy himself didn't understand, was how long this long-held devotion had been balling in the pit of his stomach like gilded butterflies, trying to flutter out through his ever-growing smile. After his dejection at Shank's departure from Dawn Island, you had been the only person left in Luffy's life whom he still felt hope from. The only person, besides the kind Makina, who didn't treat Luffy and his dreams like a whimsical joke.

When you had found him on the shore of the coast that day: his legs shivering as he ignored the chill splash of the tide soaking over his legs, his straw hat hanging sorrowfully over his eyes, you knew immediately that all Luffy needed was a little bit of optimism. A little bit, as you stepped over the shards of splintered wood that you could only make out as the remains of a makeshift mast, of belief. As you folded your legs down on the sand and settled next to your friend and gently took the torn Jolly Roger flag from his clenched hands, that what Luffy really needed was your unwavering devotion.

Little did you know, as Luffy turned with bleary eyes and that - god - that still so tender smile twitching at his lips when he spots you, that he was thinking exactly the same. As you grasped his hand between your own and pointed out to the horizon, promising that one day the two of you would sail away underneath that spot: right there. That one! That little spot: those wavering streaks of shimmering gold that lay like a transcendental passage underneath the orbed sun, you could never have realised that Luffy would only reflect your adoration tenfold.

'Wherever we go, we go together right? You won't leave me?', Luffy has asked, wiping his snotty nose with the back of your intertwined knuckles.

'Of course! I promise, Luffy', you had recoiled with a laugh, wiping it off on his vest.

Luffy's so uncharacteristically still, so silent for a moment, that Zoro's almost tempted to shout for Chopper. 'They are!', he finally shouts, nearly making the table clatter onto its side with how fervidly his knee jolts. For a moment, Luffy looks almost sad as he drops the last piece of beef back onto his plate, but his spine is quick to shoot as straight as an arrow again: his wide grin blooming across his face like roped starlight when he remembers what he had been so busy thinking about mere moments before. And every hour before that. And every single day before that as well. You.

You had always been an integral part of his dream, and now he was beginning to understand why.

'I can't stop thinking about them!', he declares, much to a chuckling Sanji's delight and a groaning Zoro's annoyance. 'They're more beautiful than all of the meat in all of the entire seas!'

Zoro pinches his temples lightly before rubbing his hands down his face and crossing them stoutly over his chest. Sanji's quick to scowl over at him. Leaning back on his stool, the first mate sighs as he watches Luffy whip his head between his two cremates like a puppy whose just been tossed a juicy bone.

'What do I do now!'

'Just... don't... don't say that to them. The beef part. The rest of it's fine.'

Sanji clucks his tongue at the swordsman, desperately trying to hold back a seething retort. Instead, he turns his attention back to his Captain, coming to clean up his plate and reassuringly pat his shoulder at the same time. 'Don't worry, Luffy. You just need to show them that you care! Spend some quality time with them, shower them with gifts, offer them your hand when they're disembarking the ship... ', Sanji's eyes glaze over as he bites his bottom lip, and Zoro tries desperately to restrain himself from picking up the bowl soaking in the sink and dumping it over the moron's head. 'Such beautiful creatures should be treated with the upmost devotion.'

The only problem with Sanji's advice is, that Luffy somehow manages to become a thousand times clingier when he finally realises he's in love.

You'll be minding your own business: trying to eat dinner with your friends when you'll sense something sprightly and warm barrelling towards your side. Before you can even register why Nami's stopped chewing on a chunk of torn bread to wiggle her eyebrows facetiously at you, the jut of Luffy's chin weighs down on your shoulder. You flush, trying not to embarrass yourself in front of your crewmates (and losing your bet with Nami to see whether you or Luffy will cave in first and kiss the other one silly), you pretend to be intently stabbing at your carrots. Definitely not squirming your legs together under the table at the feel of Luffy's jean shorts riding up the edge of your thigh. Definitely not inadvertently hitching your breath as the harsh edge of his knee bumps against your own, his leg resting heavily as he your Captain nearly climbs on top of you. And definitely, definitely not feeling your hands go clammy with the intensity of Luffy's puppy dog eyes fixedly contemplating the faint splatter of blush on the cheek nearly pressed against his nose: as if mapping out the intricacies of your body was the most interesting thing he'd ever done.

'Y/n!', he finally starts, making you jump up. Nami was not impressed when your leg reflexively kicked out and hit her shin, but you Luffy was more than delighted when you slunk it back with an apologetic smile and hit the side of his big toe. Without a second thought, he wrapped his foot around your ankle under the table and nuzzles his forehead against your jaw. 'You've been training so much with Zoro lately, I saved you some of my meat so you can get big and strong like me!'

*Cue the shocked gasps from Usopp and Sanji, the controlled exhale from Zoro as he tilted his head back against the porthole and closed his eyes, and the self-congratulatory smirk from Nami.*

'I also borrowed some cookies from Sanji! They're super chocolatey. I tried a few to make sure that you'd like them!'

'Hey, those weren't for you!', Sanji bites his tongue and flops his tea towel down onto the table, but Luffy's too busy inadvertently ignoring the cook to care. His sole focus is on the sweet delight that blooms across his face at the thoughtful gesture as he fumbles some half-broken cookies out of his pockets.

'Sorry', he murmurs as he places them into your hand. 'I got a bit hungry and ate some of them.'

'On your way from the counter to the bench?', Usopp asks.

'Yeah, what is that? Like, ten steps?', Nami teases, but the words don't even register in Luffy's whirring mind. He's far, far too busy trying to stop his heart from pouring out of his gaping mouth like choking saltwater, he's blubbering so much. His fingers shake as he splits the last cookie from his vest in half and - as gently as he can - prods it against the plumpness of your closed lips. Once you've started chewing, you decide to return the favour; you barely half to lift the other half of the cookie before Luffy's nipping at your fingers like an energetic snapping turtle. When your pointer finger accidentally enters his mouth though, and brushes against that warm velvety spot lining the inside of his bottom lip, he freezes; the faint taste of sugar of toffee melts off your skin and against his tongue, and the usually so assured man forgets, for a second, how to breath.

It's only when your finger pulls back to wipe a few stray crumbs away from his Cupid Bow that Luffy finally springs.

'Y/n, let me get your crumbs too!' He leans forward with crinkled eyes almost closed painfully tight and pursed lips. Whether he was going to kiss or lick the crumbs off your face you'll never know, because at that exact moment Sanji tackles Luffy to the floor before he could get any closer.

Just want to warn you in advance: if you want to sleep alone, you'll have to bribe Nami into keeping watch outside of your room every night. Or you'll have to sneak off and try and stowaway in some old oaken kipper barrel under deck (although the stench is so bad you couldn't sleep anyway, and Luffy went wandering around the pantry for a midnight snack that he lifted the lid and found you anyway.) Because the only preparation you'll get before being launched into your hammock is the pounding of his sandals making the gunwales shake, and the slight pant of his famished breath before your door is kicked open.

'Y/n! I can't sleep! Can I come snuggle with you? Captain's orders!'

You don't mind though, and even if Luffy can be incredibly clingy, if you told him no he would feel sad, but he would always respect your wishes. It would be the worst thing in the world for him to hurt you in any way - seeing you upset feels like his heart is being clawed out of his chest, because in a way it is.

There's barely any time to plop your book down onto the floor and hold your hands out to Luffy before you're flung into the air like a ragdoll, his rubbery arms wrapping five times around your abdomen as if he were growing sunflower roots from his fingers: winding the roots around to kiss your body, rooting his blooms within your skin. Embedded together until you were almost sharing the same breath, Luffy passes out almost immediately; he spends the whole night snoring with his nose squished just under your eye, but you can barely sleep with the way he keeps rubbing butterfly kisses against your cheek every so often. It doesn't help that he keeps whining desperately in his sleep - his already clenching and unclenching fingers leaving their home in your side to claw at your thighs and lift them closer to his bellybutton. His dragging lips left a wet trail against the pulse point as he burrowed himself further against you, only settling again when the heavy weight of his legs squirm in between your own.

One time you were spending the afternoon wandering through the delightful market square of Seahorse Shore: the sweet smell of jasmine blooms woven between sun streamed lattices was matched only by the warm sound of Sanji's friendly chatter as he walked beside you, stopping from time to time to pick up and squeeze a rare fruit.

You froze when you heard something: an echoing pounding, like an elephant stampeding away from a wild hurricane that whipped at its tail, before someone jumped on your back.

You were about to toss the guy head over ass onto the ground, when you heard the delighted shrill of Luffy's frantic voice ringing against the shell of your ear.

'I missed you so much today! Mmmh, you smell so good, like meat and flowers!'

'Luffy, how did you get back here so quickly?? You were at the opposite end of the island!'

'He followed his nose back to you.' Zoro just turned around, deciding to take his chances getting lost down the billion white sun-bleached cobblestone alleyways on this twisty island than to stay watching the two of you be all lovey-dovey for another second. Gosh, by all the seas even Sanji yelped when he you stumbled forward, steadying yourself by wrapping your fingers behind the raised kneecaps Luffy had haphazardly thrown around your hips. The man hugged onto you like a koala bear backpack, because he had been apart from you for... hmm... twenty minutes?

He's always dragging you off for some big, wild adventure, I don't know, there's just something about the two of you sitting under the speckled shade of an orange tree with interlocked arms, a few fireflies beginning to peek their heads out from between the stout leaves, like honey dripping down from bowed boughs as you leaned against each other, watching the sunset. You were here. You had made it. You were free.

And most importantly, you were together.

Luffy lunges for your hand and starts pointing at the grass swaying between your shoes, excitedly telling you about all the bugs and beetles running around the soil (to Luffy, a big part of love is trying to share what you're passionate about with each other.) He does lift up a stag beetle at one point and places it on your hand, but he starts to panic when the insect frantically starts scurrying up your arm. Somehow you end up face down in the dirt with Luffy leaning over your back; the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt sway over your spine as his chest heaves, his lips dangerously close to being only a few centimetres away from landing on your shoulder blade. You would have blushed at the proximity if you weren't too busy picking grass blades out of your hair, and trying to help Luffy's stretchy arms unloop themselves from under your armpits.

When Luffy gets to flop his head back down into your lap though, feeling you card your fingers through his hair, all is right in the world again. For a while, the two of you just exist: watching the sunset brew violet and lilac gleams across your eyeline, talking about your latest adventure against Captain Kuro at Syrup Village and playing with each others shaky fingers. Its only when you take a break from stroking his curly hair against your palm that he stops and pouts, blinking rapidly up at you. When you lean forward though, tickling that soft spot between his earlobe and the cute freckle by his jaw using your free hand to pluck a daisy from behind the rim of his hat and tuck it through the loop, a bashful burn shines across his face.

Before he can think twice, he musters his courage and determination, squeezes his eyes shut, and lifts his spine up so he can plant a wet kiss against the tip of your nose.

Your eyes flash as you pull back, tenderly rubbing your nose against his. Cupping his cheek, you press a kiss against his forehead and fold your enclosed hands against the rapid pulse of your heart. Your eyes never leave his, and his eyes trace your path in... confusion?

I mean, the two of you have been in love with each other since you were ten years old, and this is the first time Luffy's brain has stopped to think: 'Hey! Maybe Y/n likes me too!'

The real time he surprises you though is when he plops his hat on top of your head. You'd been caught up fighting some Marines off the coast of the Conomi Islands, and had unfortunately been struck down by a rather forceful cannon ball to the side of the Going Merry's railings. When Luffy bust down into the Medbay, you'd never seen such clouds thunder across his face. His whole body seemed to sag once he spotted you, his eyebrows unfurrowing as he almost tripped over his own feet in his desperation to get to you.

'I... I was so worried. I saw that Marine hit you, and I-

For once, Luffy stops talking. Instead, he takes his hat and places it over your tired eyes, hoping you won't see how flustered he looks when he leans down to press his lips against the top of your bandaged arm.

'You- you promised', his voice wavers as if he's about to start sobbing, but he hides the noise by wiping his nose with his forearm. 'You promised you'd stay with me. Always.'

'I meant it Luffy - I'm a Strawhat Pirate, you can't get rid of me that easily. What would my helpless Captain do without me?', you smile, brushing the back of your knuckles languidly down his the growing tearstains of his cheek, despite how much your whole body screamed at you to rest.

'Promise?', he asks, his voice shaky.

'I promise.'

He didn't have to say it. You both knew. You had always known. There was no one without the other. There was no dream without you.

So when he clumsily slapped his hands on either side of your cheek, smushing them together so you looked like a blabbering pufferfish, you weren't surprised. When he nearly sent the stretcher you were perched on rolling across the room by standing between your legs and pressing his torso up against your chest, you didn't blink. When he smashed his lips against yours, leaving kitten licks against the inner seam of your mouth as if he were trying to eat his way into your tongue, you didn't think twice.

All you did was kiss him back, the unwavering devotion that had always tied your lives together finally finding freedom by flooding into your hearts.

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