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imagineanime2022 · 1 year

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You Find Comfort In Their Demon Form

Lucifer X Reader Mammon X Reader Leviathan X Reader Satan X Reader Asmodeus X Reader Beelzebub X Reader Belphegor X Reader

Requested: @your-next-daydream

Request: I'm back with another obey me ask! Lol I know you might be getting tired of obey me, so if you want to skip this that's okay.

But if you wanted to I was wondering if you could write a MC that pulls at their demon parts (horns,tail, wings, ect) when they are anxious or stressed? With the demon brothers? Preferably just keep this gender neutral 😅

A/N: I had ideas for this the moment that you sent this in so I hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Lucifer

📚 Lucifer took a little while to realise what you were doing by extension the reason for it. 📚 He’d usually have his demon form active when he could see that something was bothering you, that prompted you to hide behind him but it was only after the situation was dealt with that he realised that you were running your hands through the feathers of his wings. 📚 You might even have to tell him one day when you are in serious need of his wings and he is too busy to come out of his office. 📚 You're probably the only person that he lets that close to his wings, he might even teach you how to properly care for his wings so that he can benefit from your anxious or stressed habit.

Lucifer had already been in demon form when you walked into the office, you moved behind him with practice ease and started to run your hands through on of his wings, he waited to see if you would say anything but you didn’t instead you continued to sort through the feathers laying them properly and removing any loose feathers. “Are you going to tell me what is going on?” He asked as he continued to work through paperwork. “Nothing.” You answered as you continued your work, he folded his wings in to stop your finger working through them as he turned his head to look at you. “Try again.” He ordered. “It’s nothing, it’s just we turned in some assignments today and I’m nervous about this one.” You explained as you reached for his wings as he relaxed them again. “Why are you nervous about this one? Did you spend all of your time caring for my brothers again? Please tell me you didn’t write this one in one night.” He pleaded as he remembered the state that you came to him after that, exhausted and stressed, he had to hide you from his brothers for 24 hours so that you could rest properly. “No, I just worry that it isn’t as good as it could have been.” You shrugged and he sighed before pushing his chair back and inviting you to sit on his lap. “But you tried your best at the time?” Lucifer asked and you nodded, hand still reaching around to his wings. “Of course.” You mumbled. “Then there’s nothing that you need to worry about.” He said “take time to relax here, I’m sure my brothers can fend for themselves for a little while.” “You’ll regret saying that later.” You mumbled already far more relaxed than before. “I’ll never regret making the best decision for you.” He promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Mammon

💳 The first time that you touched his horns you nearly gave him a heart attack, any other time that his horns have been touched it’s been used to control him in some way and only ever resulted in pain. 💳 The same went for his wings so when you showed such care when touching them it confused him but was confused him more were the times that you chose to touch them. 💳 Mammon would pride himself on being the one that you came to or called when you needed reassurance or safety. 💳 Mammon doesn’t mean to distract you but he becomes a stuttering mess no matter how many times nestle into his side and thank him for being there.

You had called Mammon after getting home from RAD, you were a little later than he was so had time to get changed but when he walked into your room he saw that you were still laying in your uniform. “Hey what's wrong with ya?” He asked as he walked closer to the bed. You reached out dragging him onto the bed and curled into his side, the surprise itself caused him to change to his demon form, his wrapping around you as you reached up to touch and mess with his horns. “What are ya doin’?” He asked. “Had a bad day.” You mumbled as you buried your face in his shoulder. “What happened?” He asked. “Just some demons with too much time on their hands and nothing to do with it.” You explained. “Wait! What’s that got ta do with me?” He asked. “You always make me feel better.” You explained and he froze at the declaration. “I do?” He asked. “Mm.” You hum “thank you Mammon for being here, for being my first.” “Yeah, yeah, you have to show me who they are tomorrow, give ‘em a piece of ma mind for upsetting ma human.” He explained and you looked at him for a second and then smiled. “Thanks.” You finally say before going quiet, he glanced down to see your eyes closed peacefully and breathes a sigh of relief, he meant what he said he was going to get rid of anything that upset you.

Leviathan

🎮 Levi was pretty anxious himself, you were the only person that he allowed this close to him in any form but it did take a long time before he showed you his demon form consciously. 🎮 You were careful with him but one day you were more anxious then you had been in a long time and went to Levi to hide before either one of you noticed you were running your hands over the scales on his neck relaxing both of you. 🎮 Levi looked forward to the times that you’d come to his room and run your hands over his scales, at some point he redirected your hands to his stomach where more scales were located. 🎮 Well that is until he found out the reason behind it, now it made him worry a little bit whenever you came in and started tracing the scales while laying with your face buried in his neck, while he played whatever game.

Today was the same as every other day that you came into his room seeking comfort, you walked around the sofa and laid half across his body while your other hand loop under his shirt to rest over his scales, you slowly started tracing his scales, he glanced down at you his face a little red as he looked over your face. He waited a little while before he asked about anything, he knew that you wouldn’t be ready to talk for a little while. “What happened?” He asked. “Just some work things.” You answered. “Like what?” He asked, taking in a deep breath as your hand ran over a ticklish spot. “Oh just some annoying customers, I think I recognised them from school, probably just having fun ordering me around, and making me clean up after them.” You explained with a shrug. “Yeah? You know their names?” He asked. “What? No, it doesn’t matter even if I did, I wouldn't tell you.” You mumbled eyes falling closed. “What? Why?” He asked. “Because no one deserves what you call revenge.” You answered with a small smile on your face as your hand fattened out over the patch that you had been tracing. “Am I that bad?” He asked. “You are when you involve Lotan.” You sighed as you looked at him and he shrugged. “They deserve it for messing with my Henry.” He mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead before swapping you to the other side of the couch where you could rest against the back, his tail wrapped around your waist to keep you close as he continued to play, he knew that Beel was with you today, so he’ll ask him at breakfast in the morning and then make those normies pay.

Satan

🐈 Satan was a little worried at first, he knew that his tail was dangerous but he realised that his tail provided comfort for you so instead of stopping you from touching it he got you a pair of gloves to protect your fingers. 🐈 He realised that you playing with his tail gave him a level of comfort as well, one he didn’t know that he’d enjoy. 🐈 You're the only person that’s allowed that close to his tail, that being said that’s only in the safety of his room. 🐈 He’ll often take this time to read something that he liked to you and take your mind off of whatever was happening.

Satan walked into his room where you were waiting with an arm over your face “are you okay?” He asked as he walked over, you lifted your hands making grabby hands in the direction that his voice had come from. “Where are your gloves?” You just whined and he raised an eyebrow, as he got closer he could see stray tears on your cheeks, he reached for your bag silently and grabbed specially made gloves taking your hands one by one and slipping the gloves on before allowing his tail to fall into your hands, you opened your eyes once you felt the weight in your hands. “What happened?” “Nothing just didn’t do as well as I wanted in one of the papers, I need to rewrite it as well as write the new one and there is an exam.” You explained and he felt the way that your hands tightened around his tail, you didn’t hurt him but he was worried that you might hurt yourself so he stood walking over to his book shelf, he heard you whine. “One minute, I’m coming back.” He promised, he just wanted to give your hand a brief break by pretending to look for a book to read, he chose one that was as far away from school work as he could get, a tale from the demon realm. He walked back over and held up the book “how about we forget about that for a little while? We’ll make a schedule and I’ll help you with the rewrite okay?” “You will?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed laying on his back letting his tail fall over your lap as he opened the book and started reading.

Asmodeus

💅 Asmo was probably the one that introduced you to using his demon form as a way to relieve stress. 💅 He told you about the way that his heart shaped birthmarks needed extra lotion because the skin dried out quicker and he couldn’t always reach them right. 💅 Or how his horns after constantly growing and he needs help filing them down and making sure that they didn’t grow weird directions or grow too long. 💅 While you're working he’ll use that time to slyly ask about your day and fish out any information or event that you need to vent about.

Asmo sat on his bed back leant against the headboard with a pillow for support and he manoeuvred you so that you were sitting on his lap, you started your work gently filing down his horns the way that he had shown. “So what did you do today?” He asked gently, rubbing his thumbs over your hips. “Me?” You asked. “Who else would I be talking to darling?” He asked. “Nothin much, just some annoying stuff.” You mumbled as you gently brushed some of the shavings away from the base of his horns. “What annoying stuff?” He asked. “Mammon got into some trouble with a witch, that I had to bail him out of.” You mumbled. “Are you okay?” He asked, you smiled on the concern on his face and nodded. “Promise I’m fine, Solomon helped me out and we managed to get what she wanted.” You answered. “Anything else?” He asked. “Had to stop Satan and Lucifer from killing each other after a misunderstanding.” You answered. “Those two need to learn how to communicate.” Asmo muttered as you shrugged. “They never will.” You mumbled all the while finishing off another perfect filing session. “How’s that look?” Asmo tapped your thighs signalling for you to get up so that he could get a proper look, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled. “Maybe we should start up a business.” He suggested. “You want me to sit on other demons' laps?” You asked with a smirk and he narrowed his eyes before turning back to you. “Would you?” He asked. “Would you let me?” You countered, there was silence for a moment before he dove at you pinning you to the bed. “You're my human.” He whined. “Yeah I’m your human.” You laughed finally in a better mood than when you had walked into the room.

Beelzebub

🍔 Beel realises the connection before you do, he’d usually be holding you in a stressful situation anyway so in the situations where his demon form was needed, he’d always feel your finger in his hair and around the base of his horns. 🍔 Beel would encourage the behaviour no matter what but he’d encourage it even more if it replaced a more dangerous nervous habit. 🍔 He’s always there and would be your personal stress reliever no matter what the situation was, he’d always focus on you first, there were others (Belphie and Mammon) that would get rid of the problem for the both of you. 🍔 Beel had always been good at seeing the way that a situation affected you and no matter where you were or who you were with he’d sit you on his lap and direct your hands to his head to calm yourself down.

Beel could feel you tense next to him as Satan and Lucifer started arguing, he frowned as he looked between the two, before looking at you, you had stopped eating, your hand fiddling with your trousers, he reach over moving you to his lap where he dropped his head to your shoulder, letting you run your hands over his horns “It’s okay I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled but he tightened his grip on you. “There is nothing to be sorry for.” He mumbled “they are scary when they start shouting, they used to scare me too.” He stood from the table completely unnoticed by everyone except for his twin and carried you back to his room. “Aren’t you hungry?” You asked as you looked at him settled in bed. “Don’t worry we’ll get a snack later when they all get lost.” He promised as he gently ran his hand up and down your back, you were still straddling his waist so you could reach his horns. “You sound angry.” You mumbled, you seemed to be relaxing. “I’m annoyed.” He answered honestly, “I don’t like that they make you feel unsafe.” “They don’t make me feel unsafe, your brother would never hurt me, I just don’t like them fighting.” You explained as one of your hands came down to the marks that peaked out of his shirt and started tracing them. “You want them to stop fighting?” He asked. “Mmm, we might have a better chance of uniting the 3 realms though.” You shrugged and he chuckled a deep sound that you missed when you didn’t hear it. “Well I’ll be here whenever you need me.” Beel promised.

Belphegor

💤 Here’s the thing, Belphie probably didn’t know what you were doing for the longest time, he was asleep whenever you played with the tuft at the end of his tail or along his horns. 💤 So you can be sure that he’d never know the situation that had caused you stress or anxiety. He’d always be able to sense the feelings though so he knew what you needed. 💤 Sometimes he doesn’t say anything. Instead he’ll pull you close and keep you there until he is sure that you are asleep, then he'll wrap his tail and arms around while intertwining your legs and that’s how you'll wake up. 💤 Belphie would spend hours trying to find out what happened to make you so tense or teary but the only person brave enough to tell him is Beel and when he does it’s game over for whatever hurt you.

This time he felt you climb into the bed behind him, he was hiding in the attic and it seemed so were you, you sat cross legged behind him and he felt you playing with his tail, he waited a moment to see what you were going to do and when he heard you sniffle slightly he turned immediately and pulled you into the a hug his tail wrapping around your waist as he run his hands through your hair, your hand reached down to catch his tail as you continued to play with it, he watched as your face changed from one of sadness, to relaxation and then you were asleep.

He pulled out his DDD, careful not to let the light shine on your face, he opened the chat with the rest of his brothers.

Belphie: Thought you were all supposed to look after them, why have they been crying? Mammon: Cryin’ who’s cryin’? Belphie: Y/N. Asmo: What happened? Belphie: I don’t know, they’re asleep, you should all know if you were doing your job right. Mammon: Woah someone’s protective of the human. Belphie: You better hope that you had nothing to do with it otherwise I’m going to flush that stupid credit card down the toilet. Lucifer: Belphegor please find out the reason that Y/N is upset and then report to me immediately. Belphie: Whatever.

Belphie glanced down at you and gently ran his knuckles over your cheek, he knew that his twin had been unusually quiet during that chat and he’d have to chase it up, then once he’s dealt with the problem the way that he saw fit and then he will report to Lucifer. However when he tried to move one of you hands moved to the base of his horns and the other other gripped the tuft of his tail and he stopped moving immediately, instead he decided to stay with you, you needed him more anyway.

Request Here!!

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pinguwrites · 18 days

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𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter One

series masterlist. next chapter

𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: I promise it'll get more exciting later lol

The elevator dinged, and your heart raced. It was dark out, and so the lobby was dimmed — that blue hue that came right before the sun’s rising. After peeking a small look to the side, you quickly went back to the newspaper you were reading, as if you hadn’t noticed the sound at all. Though you didn’t need to hear or see to know who it was. No one else in Sama Place got up this early, except perhaps for you. It was you and Francis Mosses, every day alone at five in the morning. Perfect, wasn’t it?

“Mornin’,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. It was white, with the words “MILKMAN” etched onto the front. If anything, that added detail made him look even more handsome — uniformed, well-put-together, with just a hint of authority. Everything you liked.

“Good morning, Francis,” you greeted, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. Placing the newspaper aside, you focused your attention on him, but when he approached you, he took it between his fingers and flipped to the page you were at.

“Crossword? It’s a bit early for that,” he mused, eyeing all the columns and rows you filled in. It was a hard one, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Besides, what else were you supposed to do, stare at the wall waiting to say ‘hi’ to the next person who came by?

“I like puzzles, they get me thinking . . . you know, you should do something like this, too.” Francis furrowed his eyebrows, just slightly. “Not puzzles, necessarily. But a hobby.”

It just occurred to you at this very moment that he probably did have a hobby, but as someone who was just a doorwoman, you weren't privy to that information.

“I’m sure you do,” you added with a chuckle. “It’s only that I never see you doing anything but work. You’re so tired all the time. How much effort does being a milkman really require?”

He bit his lower lip. “More than you think. I used to get up at one.”

The idea that whatever company he was working for forced him to do this made you upset. Francis deserved nothing but freedom and long vacations and waking up to brunch, not whatever coffee he drank in the morning to get himself going.

“One?” you repeated, absolutely stunned. “Well, I’m glad you managed to change your shift. Most bosses I know aren’t flexible with that sort of stuff.”

“I was actually doing fine with my original hours. I just changed them because . . .”

“Because what?”

He thought for a moment, his cheeks dusted pink. “Wanted to enjoy the world a little. Can’t very well do that if you have to sleep at seven in the afternoon.” He paused. “I have to go, I’ll see you later tonight, ma’am.”

“Alright. Have a nice day, sir.”

You watched as he left, a longing gaze. In your mind, you imagined spending time with him, whether it be to see a movie or just walk around the city. You found that highly unlikely, though. Mostly because you could never bring yourself to ask him, and never thought he would ever ask you.

+++

“Really?” you said, a little disappointed. “I’d hate to see you go.”

Dr. William Afton shrugged, a grin across his lips. “I mean, it’s quite the modern idea, don’t you think? I think there ought to be more family restaurants out there. And with my engineering background, I think I’m just the right man to create something fun for children.”

“Your idea sounds like a science fiction novel,” you admitted, “but I like it. What does Mia think?”

“Oh, I had to convince her a little, but in the end, she’ll do as I say. Besides, we’re not moving very far. Just closer to the suburbs.”

You nodded. “I’ll miss you. Make sure to stop by again when you can.”

He agreed and went on his way to finish moving the rest of his belongings to his car. It was silly to want him to stay, but that was how it felt here. Everyone knew everyone, it was like a family. You’d made more friends here than you ever did before. Change wasn’t something you enjoyed.

+++

The day had passed by quickly. You took your lunch break and then went straight back to work. You made a few calls to make sure things were in order. If anything was wrong with the plumbing or if the wallpaper had chipped — things like that — it was your responsibility to fix it. Taking calls for potential renters, being in general a polite and pleasant person, it all came with your job.

It was unusual for a woman to hold this kind of position. Women barely worked at all. Most were housewives or teachers or secretaries. The fact that you even got this job at all was a miracle. And the fact that the people in this building were so pleasant was a blessing.

After your father died you thought everything was over. He left you a house, a small, one-story building with a nice lawn and a small backyard. It was closed off from the rest of the street, the way he liked it. Away from others, with his own peace. You supposed that trait passed down to you. Other than a simple conversation, you preferred to be by yourself rather than out with a large group of friends, partying at risqué clubs. Besides, even if you liked that kind of stuff, your father would never have approved.

You were dependent on him, right till the very end. Though you graduated from college, you didn’t know how to get a loan from a bank, drive a car, or even do your taxes. The easiest thing to do was to find a husband, but it was just so difficult. When you saw that sign outside of Sama saying ‘HIRING NOW’ you knew that was where you had to go. A new start. New opportunity. For the first time, you could make your own money, support yourself, and live the life you want.

You sighed, thinking about everything as you leaned back in your chair. The weather was hot today, so you set the fan beside your desk on. It was blowing through your hair, the coolness brushing against your skin with relief. It made your skirt rumple at the ends, but whenever it did that you just straightened it out, pulling it over your knees once more.

“Hey,” a voice said behind you.

Startled, you sat up straight, only to realize it was just Anastacha, the girl from the second floor. She lived with her mom, who was a cook at a restaurant, but apparently trying to make it as a chef. She had pigtails in her hair like always and was wearing a simple plaid dress.

“You scared me,” you said, tone both playful and scolding. “Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t seem very sorry. “I need help with my homework. Mom says you had a good education, and that if I ever needed help I could just come to you.”

You smiled warmly. “Sure. Pull up that chair over there, and I’ll see what I can do.”

You looked through the folder. It was just basic algebra, nothing too difficult. You remembered doing this in middle school. For the next ten minutes, you both read through each problem and solved it together. She had a lot of questions — annoying ones — but it was fine. She was just a kid, and you were happy to help.

Just as you were explaining the last part to her, the front door opened.

It was Francis.

Distracted, you glanced up and down his body. Was it odd that you found him the most beautiful man ever? His long, Roman nose, and his smooth, pale skin. The way the veins in his hands flexed every time he moved them, the light blue dress shirt that hugged his slim, muscled arms, and that dark, tousled hair, widow’s peak dipped in the middle of his forehead.

He passed by you with a short nod. It almost hurt that he didn’t bother to stay longer, but you could see the bags under his eyes and his sluggish movements. He was tired. And to be fair, so were you.

When the elevator door closed, Anastacha exclaimed, “Oh, he likes you!”

“Shh!” You didn’t need people hearing that. “He does not. Do you want to finish this or not?”

“He does,” she insisted with a giggle. “You saw the way he looked at you?”

“You can’t determine things based on a single look.”

“Yes, I can. Mr. Mosses is nice, but he kind of just ignores everyone. He doesn’t do that with you.”

The thought that Francis may like you was an intoxicating one. He was just a man, one that you never exchanged many words with, yet he managed to make you feel all sorts of ways. Was it possible that Anastacha was right? That he really did like you?

“I bet you like him, too.”

You glared at her. You did not need Anastacha spreading rumors about how you were in love with the milkman, however true that may be.

“No, I don’t. Focus.” You pointed the pencil back at her homework. “Now, in order to find x, you have to subtract . . . . . .”

Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x y/n #pinguwrites #that's not my neighbor #fanfiction #lovers' syndrome

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mournings-stars · 2 months

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all i've ever known, again

the fifth and final part to IF IT’S TRUE / the orpheus and eurydice fic :))

so i kind of lied to yall... cus pt. 4 was the last part of the prelude and i had a final last part already started LOL so heres kind of (very much up to you whether it is or isn't) an alternate ending to this greek tragedy-inspired story also thanks to this request: “a happy ending or continue the story like what happened after the reader failed to bring Lucifer back ect.” from @smnthvxe that gave me the idea to change it from a direct continuation to an semi-alt happy ending… i think yall will like this alt ending more than a canon-aligned continuation :)

includes: all that other stuff but fluff this time i promise….

tags: @lxkeee @viannasthings @majonla @sapphirecaelis

part one | part two | part three | part four

When he fell, you didn’t come to the trial. You couldn’t. You didn’t tell anyone about his indiscretions. You let everyone think you were still happily as close as you were, wishing it’d been more — that you had, did, and said more. You stayed in the house you shared, went on with your days as you had been, and slept in the same bed because you had trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there.

But you didn’t speak.

He’d try, and he didn’t go back to Earth for some time, but each time you tried, your throat tightened and you had to stop before you said something that would make both of you feel worse. You couldn’t look at him without expecting him to confess more of what he did, more of how he showed her things that were so special to you. You didn’t want to know what else happened, if he kissed her, slept with her, it’d only make things worse. But he told you he never did. He told you he comforted her, and she comforted him, and that was all.

He tried giving you replicas of flowers when you accepted what he told you, but they didn’t mean the same as they did before, and the moment you took them, they began to wilt. “I’m sorry,” you’d try to say as he looked at the flowers in defeat, but nothing came out. He brushed it off, pretending it didn’t sting and offered to show you what he’d been working on, but you didn’t want to be the one he showed his pride to when there was no one else to go to.

“I’ll never see her again,” he promised, his last attempt to fix what he’d done.

“It’s okay,” was the most you said to him in weeks, but he wished he didn’t hear it. He wished he wasn’t hearing you tell him to be happy without you again.

But he knew now; all of his doubtful thoughts, after he ruined everything, were true. He’d made them so.

Yet, you still protected him.

Until the very end, you protected him for years until you couldn’t without falling with him. Years, and you didn’t tell anyone. Years, and you started staying in your old home, alone. Years, and when rumors spiraled, he helped her flee from The Garden.

Years, and he understood what your relationship had truly been as he began to spend years with Lilith.

Years, and when you didn’t show, everyone knew the truth.

He didn’t even try to fight falling.

Then, it was months. You didn’t see Lucifer on the promenade, or in your garden. You didn’t even see him coming back from Earth. You hadn’t spoken in years, but you saw each other everyday, and you noticed quickly when you didn’t.

No one told you he fell. No one told you he stood trial. All of Heaven was keeping you in the dark until you went to Sera.

“Free will? You banished him for free will?!” You yelled at her, and she let you, having expected this reaction.

“He was also unfaithful,” she said simply.

“We weren’t married.” She shook her head. “We were hardly together — Sera, you can’t do this—“

“You spent centuries together. Nearly a millennium, do not dilute that kind of love to excuse his sin.” Eyes appeared all across her being. She was more angry for you than you had ever been, and she wanted you to lose faith in him. Just as she had.

“We spent that time together, yes, we lived together. We slept in the same bed, had meals together, held each other… But most of the kisses we shared were on the cheek, or hand. It’s not what you think—“

“Don’t do this, Humility,” she scoffed, “I won’t listen to you lie for him—“

“It’s true! Sera, please, listen to me. Free will can be good! We can root out the evil in humanity and send it down to this Hell you spoke about. Humans will understand right from wrong — they won’t just resort to evil without knowing that’s what it is. Let him explain, I’m sure he had the best intentions—“

“Intent means nothing when this is what happens!” You quieted at her stern voice and full angelic form, heavenly voice echoing off the walls. “You cannot fix this—“

“You have to let me try.” And again, years later, she watched you in defeat in front of her. First, you cried to her over what you were losing on Earth, and now what you lost because of it. Except this time, you didn’t blame the humans. “Please,” you begged, making her resolve soften as she saw the shine in your eyes. “Let me try, so I can show him I’d do the same for him, as he’d do for me.”

“What are you talking about…?” Her angelic form settled as she frowned at you. “Surely, you don’t blame yourself—“

“No.” You shook your head. “When the Earth began to change, and everything felt so bleak, he was there to help me back into the light with the garden.”

“What garden? Eden?” You shook your head again and she was even more confused. “Perhaps you could show me?” She got up, walked over, and put a soothing hand on your back.

You were consumed in a golden wave of magic, transporting you to the garden you came to everyday. You blinked your glassy eyes at her, gesturing to the garden and the animals that came to you and hoping that would be enough to convince her.

“I’ve never seen this place before,” she said, frowning, but soaking in the beautiful environment. “It must’ve been created by an angel…” She trailed off, understanding what Lucifer had done. “Humility…”

Your tears fell in shock, wide-eyed realization coming to your face as you looked around. It all felt so familiar, so close to home. You thought it was because it reminded you of Earth before it changed, but there was a reason it helped you feel connected again; every flower you ever said you missed, every animal you ever treasured or showed to him, even the pond that two ducks circled. He recreated it all.

You shook your head, looking down at your hands as a cloud of golden dust created a beautiful lily in them. The very same flower you shut him out for. Looking at it now, it was one of the most beautiful flowers you’d ever created. Poisonous or not, it stood out as something you would have loved.

Sera sighed, peering down at the lily you cradled as if it could take you back in time. She avoided your sad eyes as she looked over your face, pondering the idea that was lingering in her mind. Perhaps you would finally lose faith in him if she did it — perhaps, he would prove that he did care — perhaps… there were too many outcomes that could come from this.

But she said it anyway. “I’ll give him a chance,” she told you, watching the way your wings lifted as you looked up at her. “If you fail, he will stay in Hell… forever, but I believe you can succeed.”

She told you her test, bringing you to the golden gates and creating the stairwell you would spend days walking down — days, where all hurt feelings washed away the moment you set eyes on him and he looked happy to see you. Days, where you realized he had a ring on his finger.

You were too late, you thought. He would never come with you, you thought.

But he did, and you pushed yourself to leave immediately, following every rule until you reached the golden gates of Heaven and stayed with your back to the stairs as you stood in front of them, thinking he hadn’t followed you.

You took a deep breath before you turned, seeing Lucifer step onto the clouds and feeling your heart race when you realized you made it through Sera’s trial.

He was still, unsure of what he was at liberty to do now that you were back. The adrenaline of seeing you after so long, seeing you so ready to take him home, that allowed him to hold you like he did before, had gone the moment he stepped inside that stairwell and replaced itself with overwhelming doubt that the moment you were back, things would be how they were; doubt, that convinced him he'd already failed. Doubt that convinced him to prepare to see you cry for him again. Doubt that convinced him he'd have to say goodbye—

He didn’t even have time to process your arms going around him, but he recognized the warmth of your wings, secure and tight around him, feeling like home.

And, God, did he miss it.

His head tucked into your shoulder as his arms hugged your waist, holding so tightly that you had to speak up. “Lucifer…” He held you tighter. You held him close, fingers threading into his hair to soothe him. “I’m not going anywhere—” And you felt his shoulders tense as you reassured him, harsh breath and wetness hitting the crook of your neck before he lifted his head.

“Forgive me for this later,” he muttered, hand going to your cheek before he leaned in. He didn’t give you time to think before he kissed you, lips urging and eager as a bright, golden warmth washed over you. You could feel Lucifer’s hot tears on your skin as his lips persisted against yours, your hands going to his cheeks to run your thumbs beneath his eyes as you kissed him back. The moment your wings unwrapped from him, he muttered a weak, “no,” and reached his free hand behind you to gently guide your wings back around him as he pressed his lips to yours once again.

For the brief moment you were apart, you caught a glimpse of a light above you. You pulled back. “Luci—“ His mouth was back on yours before you could finish, but he paused.

“What did you call me?” He asked hopefully, but you didn’t repeat yourself. Instead, you told him to, “Look,” pointing just above his head. His halo had returned, glowing brighter than ever.

The glow settled after a moment, Lucifer’s gold and blue, beautiful angelic appearance returning to him for a brief moment as Heaven’s golden gates opened.

You stepped away from him and he knew the moment was past, fingers grazing his lips as Sera appeared in front of you.

“Lucifer,” she spoke. “I see you made it back…” She looked between you, then paused when she saw his halo. “I suppose I should listen to you now.” She looked to you, nodding, and you gave Lucifer a gentle smile before flying off as they went in the opposite direction.

“I didn’t think you would be able to do it,” Sera admitted after a long silence. Lucifer had been looking back at you, watching you leave in the direction of your garden. He looked at her when she spoke up. “I wouldn’t have.”

“If I was leading, I might’ve failed,” he said. “But I had something to prove.”

“And everything to lose, yes.” She nodded with a grimace, looking down at the ring on his finger. “I’m surprised you came.”

“What?” He frowned up at her, then followed her line of sight to the ring on his hand. “Oh…” Sera hummed as he lifted his hand, pulling the ring off. “It’s not what you think.” He handed her the ring and she inspected it, looking at the inscription on the inside of the band.

Music notes were engraved in the golden ring, and Sera could hear the song in her mind. “I haven’t heard this song in a long time — the Song of Love, isn’t it?” She handed it back, watching him slip it back on his finger. “But before that, it was—“

“It’s Humility’s song,” he said. “I made it a long time ago — when the world stopped needing it to change the seasons,” he admitted, twirling it on his finger. As he did, melodic winds flowed past them and sang the very same song. He stopped, the winds settling. “And for these past years, I wore it so that I might be able to hear it again. Even down there.” Sera pursed her lips, not responding to the admission. “Sera,” he sighed, “I never did anything with Lilith—“ It was her turn to sigh, as she’d heard it before. It was the only thing he fought against in the trial. “—I know how it seems. I know my telling Humility was a confession to being unfaithful, but I never did anything with her, and in the years I had with her, we’ve been nothing but friends. There was a connection, I can admit that, but it was nothing in comparison—”

Sera laughed, shaking her head. “You should’ve realized that sooner—“

“—and I never acted on it. That was when I told Humility, when I realized — After Lilith told me she loved me, and it meant something different than the love I have for Humility.” Sera quieted, letting him continue. “I can live with Humility never trusting me again — but, Sera, all I ask is that you believe I’m telling the truth.”

Sera was quiet for some time, stopping their walk as she stared at the ring on his finger; just like the lily, it was like it brought him back in time.

“You should tell Humility,” she decided, her belief would rest on that. Whatever you decided. Lucifer was quick to turn the opposite way. “Lucifer,” she called and he turned. “It was my intention to protect you both, not to plant doubt.” He could hear your voice repeating her warning of abandonment, the hurt and vitriol having replayed in his mind for years. And it finally stopped now.

“I know,” was all he said before he left, heading straight for your garden.

He found you there, sitting in front of the pond with the two circling ducks. Lilies floated in the water and sprouted at the bank, vibrant, warning colors surrounding you as you watched the water.

Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to speak, wishing he could immortalize the beautiful scene as twirled the ring on his finger. Winds blew gently, guiding you to turn your head toward him. You could hear the faint song, a smile coming to your face as he came and sat next to you.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said.

You shook your head. “Tell me tomorrow… Let’s just enjoy today.” You took a lily from the bank and carefully tucked it into his lapel. “It’s the first day of spring… Come to the Celebration tonight?” There hadn’t been one in years, and he knew it. You were asking him to spend the night with you, just as he’d done so many years ago.

“I couldn’t miss it.”

There was a long silence before he placed a zealous, maybe overly so, hand on your cheek. His thumb ran over your skin and he smiled faintly. “I missed you.” You placed your hand over his, turning to kiss the inside of his palm before taking his hand with both of yours. He pulled it gently to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. “So much.”

And you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his words, and you could feel that there was a truth you didn’t know, one that wasn’t what you dreaded years ago, one that compelled you to twist the ring on his finger and make that symphonic breeze begin to blow as you went to remind him…

But he spoke before you could, taking the opportunity to finally remedy what he’d done as he held your hands to his chest. “I know.”

And you couldn’t help but smile.

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unformula1 · 2 months

Text

everything's falling apart (CL16 x reader)

everything’s falling apart (CL16 x reader)

part 2 (everything fell apart) | part 3 (everything's gone) series masterlist- everything (you're losing me)

synopsis: you can't find a pulse, your heart won’t start anymore. you and Charles’ relationship go downhill!

“I don’t understand!” Charles waves his hands in the air, infuriated.

“I know you don’t.” You say, holding back the tears threatening to spill out all at once.

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

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

word count: 1135

a/n: i sure do love some angst. was meant to be a ‘you’re losing me’ based fic but gave up on that lol!

masterlist

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

“I love you.” Charles says.

“I love you too.” You reply, with a wide smile on your face.

Who knew how quickly that would fade, like a lost moment in time, gone with the wind. Within weeks of your newly found love (or so you thought), reality came crashing down, swinging at you in full force.

Love wasn’t easy.

It never was.

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

“You really cannot be expecting me to do all this.” Charles says, leaning on the couch.

“All I’m asking is you try to be nicer when talking to me.” You rephrase your thoughts for the millionth time.

“Why?”

“Because some of the things you say hurt like hell.”

“I thought you were a phoenix rising from the ashes.” He quotes you, almost mockingly.

“Well, I try.”

“Try harder.” He deadpans.

“What?”

“I try hard too. I try hard to get where I want in life. You’re expecting it to be served on a silver platter.” Charles says nonchalantly.

“I try really hard too.”

“To do what?”

“Get a career? Be the perfect love?”

“It isn’t working then.”

“What?”

“You’re jobless and a hopeless romantic.”

You hesitate responding, nothing comes out. You try saying something else, but it doesn’t want to be said. The cat’s got your tongue.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He scorns.

No. The words refuse to come out. A wave of sadness washes over you and you feel extremely horrible, your throat is getting clogged.

You would give everything for Charles.

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

“Are you ready?” Charles says coldly, adjusting the tie in the mirror.

“Yea.” You reply, putting on your rings and adjusting everything.

He turns to look at your outfit, giving it a really cold glare.

“What? Is it not nice?” You worriedly ask.

“Change.” He doesn’t answer your question.

“What? But I like this-”

“Change… now.” He says, pointing to the closet.

“Why?”

You didn’t know why Charles was being so rude about it; it wasn’t like him, but he’s changed, so what even is ‘him’ anymore?

You and Charles stare into each other's eyes, his eyes cold and unreadable, as if he never wanted to be here. You look at him, not breaking any eye contact whatsoever.

“You have to change.” He says, sounding a bit more agitated this time.

“Why?” You repeat, increasing in frustration as well.

“Just please, go-” He says, looking away, his fingers rubbing his forehead.

“I won’t. I like this.” You stand your ground unlike most other times. You’re done with this. You’re not going to be pushed around.

“It’s… because… this outfit has too much… skin showing.” He says unconvincingly, “People will do weird things.”

Bullshit.

You look at the time, you two are already on track to being late to the most important event of both of your lives. After a long pause, a sigh, you change out and quickly put on another outfit.

You hate this. You were supposed to stand your ground, but here you were, giving in again.

You would give everything for Charles.

But would he give you everything?

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

“I don’t understand!” Charles waves his hands in the air, infuriated.

“I know you don’t.” You say, holding back the tears threatening to spill out all at once.

Both of you stand in the living room with a fair distance in between you two, it’s ironic, how much you loved this room. The warm orange-yellow light latched onto the wall was turned on behind him and it made him glow as if he was in the evening sun . You used to love it, seeing him smile while the light made him glow. He was perfect. Everything was perfect.

Now, there’s nothing perfect or beautiful about this. The light made him flash an angry glow, painfully dark red. His eyes glowed in fury, the lights made it ever so obvious.

“Mon Dieu!” He says, throwing himself onto the couch, “I think you’re being dramatic.”

You might’ve bothered listening to what he had to say, if he didn’t proceed with a loud, disgruntled sigh and burying his face in his hands, letting out more grunts.

You’re done with this.

You turn around and storm into your room. It’s dark. You don’t bother turning the lights on and just sit on the edge of your bed. The tears start streaming down.

It’s dark. It’s cold.

His hands wrap around your body, filling it with warmth. The tears don’t slow down, still streaming. He hugs you tightly, holding you in.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your ear, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m really sorry.” He says again, much softer this time. You feel his warm breath on your skin.

He continues hugging you tightly, keeping you within his embrace as you sob quietly.

“I didn’t mean it.” He says again for the 100th time.

Does he mean it?

You don’t know and it’s eating at you. He says this all the time after every single one of his outbursts. The pain doesn’t go away, it never does. He could hug you and shower you with gifts but the ‘you’re useless’ and ‘you’re being dramatic’ never leaves you.

He’s sorry.

But is he?

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

“Again?” You ask, trying to give off a little bit of disappointment.

“Yes. Again.” Charles says, adjusting his suit.

“You’re going out again? For the fifth time this week?” You ask, attempting to bring across a point.

“Your point?” He shoots it down almost instantly.

“Stay at home? Maybe spend time with me?”

“I see you all the time. I see these people too little, I’m seeing them more.” Charles says.

“Yea but-”

“It’s a special time for me.”

“I know… it’s just I was hoping we could spend some time together.”

“Next time.”

“But-”

“I promise.”

“Fine…” You reluctantly say.

“Call me if you need.”

He says and gives you a quick smile before kissing you on the cheek.

You love Charles. You really do, but lately it’s disappearing. It’s fading.

You can’t lie to yourself anymore, this definitely isn’t going to work out and there’s only a matter of time before your relationship implodes, but you love him so much, you can’t let him go… not yet.

You love Charles.

You’re on borrowed time.

He doesn’t love you back.

It hurts. Your heart and mind conflict, you would never think in a million years you’d have to be thinking about this. Charles was supposed to be your prince charming, your Mr Perfect, your everything but here you were, on the brink of tears because of him.

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

You needed someone right now, maybe to come over and hang out with you. Someone to share your sorrows with or someone to cry on; seeing as Charles had no intent of giving you the necessary attention, you turned to your next best source.

“Hi.” He finally picked up.

“Hi Arthur.”

297 notes · View notes

erisenyo · 4 months

Note

"could you please come and get me?" I'm BEGGING🙏🙏🙏

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (Andthis one too lol)

(Can be read as a follow-up to this)

“…and, like, everyone goes through phases!”

Hakoda hastily unfolds from his very undignified stretch at the muffled sound of Sokka’s voice, wincing at the protest of his sore back. Bato keeps saying he’s eventually going to value his posterior chain enough to stop taking red eyes no matter how cheap they are, and one day Hakoda is actually going to listen instead of making jokes about posteriors.

“—and sisters, you know? They never let go of anything no matter how old you all get, and they always take things too far—”

Hakoda glances again around the dim lit, tidy shop as if maybe the angle of the sunlight will have changed, vaguely pleased and surprised that Sokka is here so early as the faint jangle of the admittedly-huge keyring filters through the door.

It’s hours past when they usually open, of course, but judging by the timing of Sokka’s late-night-scarfing-down-dinner phone calls, he’s been working plenty past when they usually close.

“—not in a creepy way or anything, obviously. Just a joke. A bad one!”

Not that Hakoda was really worried. And he was right to now really worry! There’s nothing blown up, no scorch marks or tools missing because Sokka really needed a good shearing weapon for his robot-killing robot, no half-deconstructed engines and piling-up repairs because Sokka is sure he’s figured out a way to get more efficiency out of the whole system.

“—and that one is totally new, anyway. I had no idea it was even there! And so, um. High definition.”

Those this Audi sitting in the middle out of the shop, which is very out of place for Wolf Cove to begin with, let alone in Hakoda’s shop…

“And I mean, you know how sisters are!”

Hakoda does have some questions about that.

That Jesk kid better not be involved, or whatever his name was...

“Or—right?” Sokka’s voice is suddenly clear as he finally finds the right key to unlock the office door. “You—maybe? I mean—you—or—”

“Yeah,” a husky, raspy voice cuts in, faintly amused, and Hakoda pauses in surprise as he realizes Sokka isn’t on the phone. “I have a sister.”

Hakoda glances curiously through the office window as Sokka flicks the lights on, bright light illuminating the office and the break room and the car bays one by one, revealing his son—dressed for work, not starving, not injured, good—and the lean, black-on-black clad boy behind him, and Hakoda feels his eyebrow jump up in surprise.

Ah. He recognizes a pretentiously pre-worn designer leather jacket when he sees one. That would be where the car came from, then.

“And,” Sokka hurries on, darting nervously around the office as he wakes up the computer and sets down his coffee and Hakoda’s other eyebrow slides up to join the first. He can recognize Sokka’s cover-his-ass voice anywhere. “It’s not like I would recognize you out of context anyway without, you know. Or with, or—and so, like, it's not like I was being weird or anything, or like, trying to lock you in the basement or something, or—fuck.” Sokka scrubs his hands over his face before pasting on a bright, game smile and marching toward the car bays. “Yeah, I’m just going to stop talki—Dad!”

“Sokka,” Hakoda greets him, giving the other boy—not a boy, Sokka hates being called a boy, he reminds himself—a curious look. “And…?”

“Oh,” the boy blinks, freezing a little. “Uh—”

“I didn’t realize you were coming back,” Sokka hops in, hurrying over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to grab a few things from the house, see you and Katara a bit,” Hakoda assures him, reaching out to give Sokka’s shoulder a squeeze and offering a smile to the other boy as he trails Sokka after a moment across the shop floor. “Who’s this?”

“How’s Gran Gran?” Sokka asks as the boy hesitates, mouth half-open.

“She’s doing well, things are coming along,” Hakoda says, cocking his head to get a better look at the boy. He’s definitely familiar—not surprising, with those nearly-gold eyes and scar and the kind of cheekbones that Sokka loves to trip over—but Hakoda can’t quite place… “Are you one of Sokka’s college friends?” Shit, Hakoda should know those. He at least knows it isn’t…what was his name, Tamu? It’s definitely not him…

“Ah, no,” the boy says, shifting on his feet and flicking a quick look to Sokka. “Wh—"

“How long are you back for!” Sokka says over top of him, eyes wide with interest and that’s definitely his cover-his-ass voice again…

“Just a few days,” Hakoda says absently. Is it one of Sokka’s high school band buddies? They used to always be hanging around the basement and crowding into the kitchen. “I haven’t seen around town,” he says slowly, the sense that he knows this kid niggling at the edge of his thoughts.

“…No,” the kid agrees after a beat, equally slow.

“Yeah,” Sokka says quickly, voice coming out high. “He’s not from around here!”

“This is your car?” Hakoda asks, because the kid might not look much like a trombone players but he does look like a speed demon.

“Uh, yeah,” the kid says, glancing at the sleek red lines where Sokka’s set the Audi out with pride of place dead center in the middle of the shop. “Sorry?”

“Sorry?” Hakoda blinks, momentarily distracted from the nagging familiarity of the kid.

“I broke down,” the kid shrugs, apologetic, and Hakoda can only give him a bemused look.

“It’s what we’re here for,” he says. And they’re certainly going to charge him for it, with a car like that—and Hakoda will be making sure he’s charged. He recognizes that look on Sokka’s face…

“Right!” Sokka says, overly bright. “Car repair!”

“A full-service operation,” the kid murmurs, cutting Sokka a sideways look.

“We strive to be,” Hakoda says proudly, giving Sokka his own curious look as his son chokes a little, blushing. Oh yeah. Hakoda is definitely making sure this kid gets charged.

“Car repairs!” Sokka says loudly, clearly powering through…whatever is going on. “We’ve had a lot of those! Want to—” he glances quickly around. “—the books! Want to see them? Or the—I can get you up to speed?” he suggests half-desperately. “On everything?”

Hakoda makes a vaguely affirming noise, listening with half an ear and mostly watching the kid who is in turn watching Sokka, looking faintly bemused by and more than a little curious about Sokka’s immediate, exhaustive, relieved, highly detailed account of the past month.

Maybe he’s a new teacher in one of Sokka’s art classes? He thought they were all old men by Sokka’s description, but this one seems like an artsy type. Though why he’d be here and not back in Republic City…

The kid gives Sokka another sidelong look through his lashes that really isn’t all that subtle to anyone other than Sokka, and ah, that could be a reason.

And he can tell Sokka likes his friend back from the fidgety, half-nervous, half-hyper way he’s shifting his weight and playing with his bracelets and rings and he better be fucking taking those off before work, Hakoda’s not trying to have anyone lose a damn body part inside an engine. At least the earrings are out…

Hakoda thinks, though, that he really would have heard of the kid if he’s following Sokka cross-country to keep him company. But then, maybe that’s why he has the persistent, nagging sense that he’s met or at least seen this kid befo—

“Oh!” Hakoda suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers as realization hits. “I know you!”

“You—!” Sokka trips a little as the kid startles, giving Hakoda a half-surprised, half-cagey look. “You should really hear about theorderthatPakkutriedto—”

“You’re the boy from the poster over Sokka’s bed!” Hakoda says, triumphant and Sokka cuts off with a high, strangled noise, the kid opening his mouth and nothing coming out.

“The one where’s he’s all shirtless and oiled up?” Hakoda prompts when Sokka doesn’t say anything, pleased to have placed it. “Remember, you got that fancy photo editing program for it? So you could cut him out of the full shot and enlarge the size? And Bato took you to that special print shop in Whale Harbor to get it done out on the special poster paper?”

The kid slowly transfers his stare from Hakoda to Sokka, who is looking more and more like a deer trying to freeze to avoid the notice of an oncoming car.

“You know, for your eighteenth birthday?” Hakoda reminds him, concern fluttering in his chest when Sokka doesn’t immediately latch onto the topic like he always does. “Because you couldn’t find any magazines big enough to see from that far away?” He definitely isn't misremembering, he knows he isn't...right?

The kid slowly closes his mouth, eyebrow inching up higher and higher.

“And you’d filled up all your wall space, so you needed to move to other surfaces? And Katara said you weren’t allowed to put anything up in the shower?” No, he's definitely right. Hakoda had been quietly and intensely relieved by the shower edict enough to be sure.

“I,” Sokka finally says, mouth working, “I, uh.”

“Didn’t you recognize him?” Hakoda frowns, reaching out to feel Sokka’s forehead.

“Yeah, Sokka,” the kid—shit, Hakoda still doesn’t know his name though—says, pointed, “Didn’t you recognize me?”

“I…need to go now,” Sokka announces, suddenly fumbling in his pockets.

“What?” Hakoda blinks, confusion threading alongside his pleasure at finally placing the face.

“What?” the kid half-laughs, startled.

But Sokka just whips out his phone, already marching away, his face crimson and voice echoing off the high ceilings, “Katara? Yeah, I’m—yeah, I’m still in town. Yes, I know that you're on nights, I—yes, I—look, could you please come and get me?” A pause. “No, I—actually, yes. I need to go die now, please. Not here.”

Hakoda stares after Sokka as he finally shuts the office door behind him, bemused, scratching the back of his head and shifting his attention to the kid who looks like he doesn’t know whether to worry or laugh again.

“Well, I’m Hakoda,” he eventually offers, extending his hand and biting the bullet that it’s okay to not know this one’s name, they probably haven't actually met before, “I’m his father.”

“Zuko,” the kid says after a beat, accepting his handshake—strong grip, callouses, no eye contact but that’s okay considering he’s looking after Sokka. “I’m, uh. The guy from the ceiling?”

Hakoda huffs, half-amused and giving him another quick look—and then his hand a slightly harder squeeze. “Grown up a bit, have you?” A lot less oil, too. And a lot more clothes.

Same cheekbones, though.

“Uh—so has he? Since then?” Zuko hazards, glancing toward the office where Sokka is…screaming into a pillow, by the looks of it.

“One could say that," Hakoda says after a beat, thinking of Sokka’s last trip to Whale Harbor and the poster tube he’d come back with happily cradled in his arms. “But maybe not as much as you’d think.”

#Hakoda is so proud of himself #He is going to get a good grade in Dad and in remembering his son's interests and hobbies #A thing that is possible to get and desirable to achieve #Sokka and Zuko are quietly dying and Hakoda is just there like 🙃#asks and answers #prompt games #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Hakoda #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

242 notes · View notes

gay-wh0re-slut · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiii THERE!!!!!!!!!

I love love loveeeeee everything your writing and would like to that the opportunity to thank you so much for your services! 🫡

I have a request if that’s okay…

Rhea x Fem Reader having had a fling now and then nothing serious besides a kiss or two. Reader has a toxic situationship she keeps going back to where the guy hurts her constantly as in not being faithful, but they still have make up smex in a constant cycle.

Rhea’s finds out about all of this through friends of a friend type situation. She confronts Reader one day to make you leave him. Reader basically confronts that she stays with him cuz he’s a man and she likes that masculine energy for security but there are hardly any good men left so she won’t bother leaving him in search of a new one. Rhea asks like what about a woman? and Reader laughs and says a woman can’t give her what a man can sexually. LOL

Rhea is upsets but sees the challenge..

Idk where I am going with this.. PLEASE, MAY WE GET HUGE STRAP ENERGY DOM RHEA PLEASE 🤭

Thank you so much❤️‍🔥

hehehe you’re welcome soldier🫡

but oh shit oh fuck this is so good…damn i have no words to describe how i feel rn this is crazy good thank you for the request seriously.

after writing: this is soooo incredibly long i’m sorry so get comfy haha

Teacher

rhea x fem!reader

content: talks of a toxic relationship before getting down and dirty with Mrs. Hot Goth Wrestler with a skilled tongue, good fingers and huge strap 😌

“We have to stop doing this,” she says out of breath.

“Yees,” you moan, “but not now.”

The two of you were in a one stall bathroom backstage, away from everyone. Rhea was feeling you up as she went back to kissing you roughly. Her hand travelled down to the zipper on your pants but you stopped her.

“Oh come on,” she tried to seduce you back into it.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you pushed her away a bit, “I’m sorry,” you wiped your mouth.

Her whole aura changed when you broke the kiss but she didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do. She didn’t say anything which made you feel worse than you already did.

“I’ll uh… text you later,” you fixed your shirt that she had roughed up.

“Yeah,” she stepped out of your way.

You walked out of the bathroom hanging your head, feeling horrible.

Several months have passed and you are back with your ex, but you’ve been on and off the whole time. You swore you would never date a cheater but when it was good, it was so good. He treated you like a queen by giving you flowers all the time, setting up random dates and the sex was amazing. He worked you out better than anyone else and he knew it too and held it over your head.

It’s only been one time that he’s gone behind your back. You caught him sending pics to “The Pizza Palace”, so you screamed and yelled and cried then left him for a good few weeks before he came crawling back to you.

Your friends begged you not to go back to him but you couldn’t get over how good he was in bed and you were afraid you wouldn’t find anyone else who could love you.

“I’m so sorry baby, I promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry, I love you so so much. I was stupid and I couldn’t see that you were perfect for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so sorry,” he cried.

As soon as you accepted his apology you had ground rules: whenever you were suspicious of his texts, he had to let you look; his location was on at all times; and you needed to know his work schedule.

But once a cheater, always a cheater and somehow he found a way to cheat on you again. You had enough and finally cut ties with him for good, or so you thought.

“Baby please, I’m so sorry, I can’t live without you. You’re my baby, I need you, I won’t do it again,” and you ended up right back in his bed.

This went on for a couple months and Rhea had kept trying to meet up with you again, but you pushed her away. She had no clue what was going on behind closed doors but she was going to find out. So she asked a mutual friend of yours when they went to lunch.

“You didn’t know?”

“She never told me anything,” the wrestler’s face was shocked.

“Oh yeah girl. He’s obviously mentally unwell himself and he’s taking it out on her by cheating and then asking to come back. The only reason she keeps going back is because ‘he’s a god in bed’, ” the friend air quoted.

“My god. No wonder why she’s been avoiding me,” Rhea was upset about the whole thing. Her mind was racing trying to figure out what she could do to help you out.

“I’ve been trying to tell her not to go back to him, but she won’t listen to me,” the friend said insinuating that Rhea could most definitely do something.

You haven’t talked to Rhea in a while, just some brief hello’s here and there as you passed her by. She kept her distance after you basically ghosted her but she couldn’t stay away for long.

“Hey,” Rhea texts you.

“Heyy,” you replied but you were on your couch a couple weeks after you got back with your ex, refreshing the maps for his location every second.

“Wanna get coffee tomorrow?” she asked not wanting to set off any alarming messages that she was basically having an intervention so she could get you alone.

“I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about you,” you weren’t lying, you did miss her but as a friend more than anything else.

“Perfect, 10 okay? At the one near your place?”

“I’ll be there!” you smiled at this small interaction but you couldn’t think about anything other than when he was going to get home.

The morning came and you were sat at a table in the coffee shop when you heard the door open for the australian.

“Hi!” she walked towards you displaying her arms for a hug.

You were engulfed by her muscles as she squeezed, “How’re you?” you questioned knowing something was up because she doesn’t usually hug you.

“Almost broke my clavicle last night but I’m good,” she chuckled rubbing on the bone, “how about you?”

“I’m doing okay,” you couldn’t lie to her, “there’s been some ups and downs but everything is good.”

“That’s okay,” she gestured towards the register.

Both of you waited in line talking about random things, ordered and went outside to sit.

“A little birdie told me you were back with your ex?” Rhea wasn’t one to dance around a subject.

You faked a laugh, “yeah,” was all you could say.

She took a sip, “and how’s that going?”

“It’s… good I guess. I’ve made some rules with him about his whereabouts and texts but nothing too crazy,” you took a drink to hide the awkwardness. You knew that she knew what had happened by the way she asked the question so you didn’t want to bore her with the details again.

“Yeah? Well that’s good, but you really should be trusting of your significant other you know,” her accent was calm but strong.

“I do!”

She threw you a look.

“To a point,” you cleared your throat, “He’s just so…” you balled your fists in front of her, “good.”

She rolled her eyes, “that shouldn’t be the reason that you should stay with him,” she took another sip to let that sit in the air, “there are other people that would kill to be with someone like you.”

“I know, I know. But I like having a man around you know? It makes me feel safer knowing that he’s there,” you smiled but your subconscious knew that it was a fake smile.

“Right,” her tone was stern, “have you even tried to find someone else?”

“Yeah!”

Another look.

“Okay fine, no I haven’t because every time I think I’m done with him and download a dating app, he comes crawling back.”

“Oh my god. You can’t keep going back to him,” her eyes were piercing into yours.

“I know, but he’s so kind and caring when he’s not in someone else’s bed,” you rolled your eyes as you sat back in your chair swirling the cup.

“Well,” Rhea sighed as she mirrored your movements, “have you…ever thought about being with a woman?” again, not one to beat around the bush.

“What!? No. I couldn’t. I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes, let alone another woman,” you said nervously.

“Have you even tried it?”

“Well no, but-”

“Exactly. So,” the tattooed legs crossed, “leave him and find you a woman,” she smirked.

You were taken aback at her bluntness but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Are you…asking me on a date Ripley?”

“Not unless you want me to. As if you haven’t thought about it,” she chuckled.

“No, I mean- I like you but not like that,” you waved away her response. Well, maybe you could be with a woman, you thought. No! No… well…

“Uh huh,” she let you work it out for yourself for a minute before she brought you back in, “let me know the next time he cheats,” she snarls as she stands. “I have to get back to training,” as she pushed her chair in.

You looked at her in confusion at the sudden change in energy, “okay,” you stand and walk over to give her another awkward hug.

Though it was weird, she accepted. Holding you in place, she whispered in your ear, “Trust me, I can treat you much better…in and out of the bedroom.”

You let go of the hug as she smirked at you before she walked away. You watched her put her cup on top of the trash can by the food trays before walking towards her car.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

Not even a week passed and he went and cheated on you once more. You cried and screamed again as you finally walked out of the house for the last time. You sat in your car fumbling for your keys as you tried to call Rhea, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you chanted between sobs.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniffed, “Can I come over?”

You could feel her smirking her devilish smile behind the phone knowing she was saying ‘told you so’ to herself, “C’mon,” she said.

You sped over there and banged on the door.

“Damn, chill, the door didn’t cheat on you,” she opened the door but you pushed past her.

“Hey woah,” she closed it, locking it behind her, “sorry about the joke but-”

You threw your wallet and keys on the kitchen table as she followed you in as you cut her off with your finger, “don’t say you told me so because I already know, but you got in my head and now I can get you out,” you dropped your hand.

She confidently leaned herself on the counter, “Well,” she shrugged as she gestured to herself smirking.

“Stop it,” you slammed yourself down on a chair.

“I’m kidding! I am sorry that he cheated on you though…again,” she tried to hide her giggles.

“Rhea please,” you wiped your nose with a napkin that was neatly stacked in the middle of the table, “I know I’m dumb for going back to him but when it was good it was good, okay? It wasn’t just the sex even though it may seem like it,” you broke down again.

She immediately stopped feeling proud of herself and started feeling sad for you. She hated seeing you hurt but she knew that she had to be the voice of reason right now. She sighed as she sat across from you, rubbing your arm, “is there anything you need me to do?”

“Beat his ass?” you joked.

She laughed, “I don’t need a lawsuit, but I would if I could.”

You blew your nose then crumpled up the napkin, “Remember what you said at the coffee shop?”

“When?” she knew exactly when.

“When you hugged me. Did you mean it?”

“Oh…yeah,” she said casually as her muscular arms crossed leaning back in the chair.

“Could you-”

“You wanna do it right now?” her eyes widened, “yeah, no. What we are gonna do,” she stood, “is run you a shower for as long as you need, to get him off of you, use whatever you want in there, and then,” she pulled you out of the chair walking you to her bathroom, “we can talk about what happens next.”

“Okay,” as you stepped inside the bathroom.

You were in there for probably 45 minutes. You stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, your hair dripping with some left over eyeliner stuck on your eyes, but you didn’t care too much.

“Clothes are on my bed,” she shouted from the kitchen before she walked out with two glasses of wine, setting them on the coffee table.

You changed into one of her big tshirts and sweatpants, then joined her on the couch, “Thank you,” you said weakly.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you. Now, did you think about anything specific you wanted to talk about?” she handed you the wine glass.

“Mm,” you took a sip, “I’m not sure how to word this,” you became embarrassed.

“Try your best,” her hand landed on your thigh as she turned to sit criss-cross facing you.

“How does it…work?” was the best you could do.

“How does what work?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

You bit your lips trying to muster up the courage but decided there was nothing left to lose, “sex…with a woman,” your face turned red.

“Oh!” she chuckled gently slapping her hand on your thigh, “the same as with a man but it’s more enjoyable and much hotter,” she winked.

“But there’s no-”

“There is, it’s just… silicone,” now Rhea’s face was a bit red but not for the same reason, “But there’s plenty other ways to get the job done.”

“Oh,” you blinked as your mind tried to figure it out.

She took another big sip, followed by a big sigh, “did you think of anything else? I know today’s been a lot so we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. And you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you need to, plenty of room,” she gave you a sincere smile.

“Not really,” you picked up your legs onto the couch and hugged them, “and thank you, we’ll see what happens,” you finish your wine.

“For sure,” she finishes hers too and gets off the couch. She gestured towards you silently asking if you want another, but you shook your head no, so she took your glass with her into the kitchen.

She came back out and sat back down in the same position.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

“Anytime,” her eyes were staring into yours, twinkling in the sunset light coming from the window. She looked so beautiful in this light, was it because she actually did or because you were heart broken, again, and you needed a distraction? Whatever it was, you made a quick decision.

So you cupped her face with your hand and gently kissed her. She easily fell into it but broke it off gently.

“Are you sure you want to start this? Because I won’t be able to stop,” she was sure of herself.

“Yes,” you tried to kiss her again but she backed away.

“Because I know you’re just doing this to feel as though you’re getting back at him. And I don’t want to be used as a distraction so I need to know if you actually want to go through with this,” she was calm but stern with her words, wanting to make sure you understood.

“Ever since, whatever we had back then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think he was the distraction from you,” the light bulb went off in your head as you said this, because it was true. Rhea always made you feel loved and appreciated no matter what.

Her mouth fell open slightly as she took in this new revelation, “Never thought of it that way,” she cleared her throat.

“So yes, I want to go through with this. Mainly because I want to see if you can keep your promise,” you smirked.

“Ah ah, I didn’t promise anything,” she pointed, “but I can definitely prove it.”

“Then prove it, teach me the ways,” you tried to think of anything else to say but it came out before you could stop it, “of lesbian sex.”

“Please don’t ever say that again,” she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you hid your face.

“You should be, that was weird.”

“Yeah, oops,” you chuckled.

“So, you sure you want to go through with this because,” she cocked an eyebrow and smirked as she shrugged, “I’m pretty good if I do say so myself.”

“Alright alright, calm down,” you smiled putting your hand up to stop her. You took a deep breath and took a second to think about everything, “I want to do it.”

“Finally,” the wrestler breathed as she grabbed your face and smashed your lips together. It wasn’t like you haven’t kissed her before, but it was different this time. There was yearning and lust and you wanted more of it.

Small moans came from the both of you as your hands glided up her bare thighs, prying at the edge of her booty shorts. Her hands moved to your waist to pull you closer but you decided to straddle her instead.

“A little desperate, are we?” she guided your hips down onto her lap.

“Sshhh,” as you kissed her again. Now her hands were gliding on your thighs. After a few moments, her hands found their way under your, well her shirt, and felt up your back pulling you in tighter. You arched your back into her with a low whine. Her nails dug into your back sending shockwaves through your body and directly to your core.

You gently began to grind your hips and she took the opportunity to put her hands on your ass and guide you through it. Moaning into the kisses, you ran your hand through her hair while the other kept your balance on the back of the couch.

She snuck one of her hands to the front of the waistband playing with it, “can I…”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, you were nervous but you’ve never felt safer.

She slowly slipped her hand underneath and began to gently caress your hot center with just a layer of fabric separating her hand from you.

“Shit,” you whined.

“You okay?” she caught your gaze.

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip.

Drawing small gentle circles on your sensitive bud, your hips jerked a bit as you let out a small whimper. You tried to cover it by kissing her again.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, “It’s hot.”

You were still weary but thankful she said something. So you nod in response before resting your head on her shoulder. Her pace had gotten faster now and you were riding her hand in perfect unison. “Mmmfuck,” you threw your head back.

You removed your hand from her hair to meet with hers in the sweatpants. You stopped her hand and moved it under the one layer that was blocking her. You removed your hand but she got the message immediately. She ran her fingers over your wet folds picking up what had been oozing out of you before going back to her pace.

You moaned as your head fell back onto her shoulder, breathing heavily. She twisted her head and started to kiss your neck before ever so slightly biting. Your moans became more frequent and the pressure was quickly beginning to rise.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Don’t say it…just do it,” her voice was deep in your ear.

And with that, the pressure released, “Oh GOD,” you yelled as you threw your head back once more. She kept her pace and let you ride it out.

After an about a minute she removed her hand, “you okay?”

You were breathing heavily into her neck, “yeah,” as you sat up.

“Good because we’re not done yet,” and she easily picked you up carrying you to her room and onto her bed. She set you down gently, “totally up to you, but on a scale of one to ten, how rough-”

“Seven,” you blurted out a little too quickly.

“Hm,” she stood above you with her hands on her hips, “so what do you…”

“Oh, uhm,” your face turned redder than it was. You never had this conversation with your ex he just kinda did what he wanted, “I’m… not sure.”

“Do you like when someone talks you through it?”

You thought about it, “yes.”

“Do you like being praised or no?”

You thought again but longer this time, “I’m not sure.”

“We can try both and see what happens,” she said casually, “What about choking?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” you didn’t have to think about that one.

“Okay,” she chuckled, “obviously you’re a pillow princess.”

You acted surprised, “how’d you know?”

“I could tell,” she laughed. “Are you okay to start again?” her tone became serious.

You readjusted your position, placing your hands in your lap neatly, “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooh, I like that,” she cooed. “Now get comfy, princess,” as she pointed to the pillows behind you.

So you scooted back a bit and laid down on the bed. You watched as she crawled menacingly on top of you. The tattooed hand slid up your torso and to your neck turning your head to the side and holding it in place. She ran her tongue up your neck, sending a shiver through your body. Your hands were carefully placed on her sides just to have something to hold on to.

She kissed down your jaw, to your mouth before making eye contact with you, “Anything he could do, I can do better,” she growled.

You couldn’t say anything you were so turned on now. Never in a million years did you think you would be in this situation. So you smiled devilishly in response.

“Promise,” she tacked on before going back to your neck. She sat up and tugged at the waistband of the sweat pants, “Can I take these off?”

“You can do anything you want,” you finally admitted.

“Don’t tell me that,” she smirked.

“I’m serious,” your tone was stern as you caught her icy blue eyes with yours.

Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “okay,” her voice graveled.

She easily slipped the pants off of you but you took it a step further and took the shirt off too, leaving you in nothing but underwear.

She was surprised but her energy quickly changed. Her eyes filled with hunger as she looked over your body taking in every inch. It didn’t take long for her to spread your legs to begin to kiss on your thighs.

You whimpered at her touch as your hands flew to her hair, holding it out of her way. Kissing her way up your thighs, moving from one to the other with every other peck, she looked at you as she landed one on your soaked center.

You moaned catching her gaze as she smiled into another kiss. You writhed under her as she continued to touch everywhere but where you needed her most. You were over it so you pushed her head away.

“What-”

“Just,” you threw off your underwear as quickly as possible, “fucking go for it, please.”

“I thought I was teaching you?” she joked.

“Please, please, just fuck me,” you begged.

“So desperate,” she said slyly.

“God, please Rhea,” you were basically whining at this point.

“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg,” she smoothed her hands over your thighs.

You did whine a little, gently hitting your fists on the bed, “Ugh! Pleeaase!!”

She scoffed before she dove her head back down. Her tongue smoothed over your wet folds immediately.

You gasped, “fuck, yesss,” as you picked up your legs, folding at the knees.

She held your hips in place as her tongue worked its magic. She hummed into you, causing your body to shiver again at the vibrations. She skillfully flicked her tongue over your clit before lapping you up again.

The noises coming out of you were something you didn’t think would happen but you let them come anyway. Moans and whines filled the room as she continued. The knot inside of you returned, causing you to ride her face.

She smiled into your movements holding you tighter. She kept her pace steady as your hips jerked against her, “shit…ffffuck,” you moaned. Just a few more moments and you were coming once again. You yelled in pleasure as she forced your legs open to stop you from suffocating her, she didn’t stop though, letting you finish out your high.

Once you came down, she kissed her way up to your mouth, “you taste so…” she thought about it, “delicious,” and kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself against her but you didn’t mind. She was right, she was doing everything better than he was.

“I think you’re ready to turn it up a notch, yeah?” she said as she slinked off of you and went to the closet.

You covered your eyes with your hands trying to think of what she meant. You couldn’t believe you were here with her of all people. THE Rhea Ripley, pleasing you, making you feel safe, giving you everything you need and more. You were afraid you were in love with her.

The door clicked open, “Close your eyes,” she said before walking out.

“Okay,” your hands fully covered your eyes now as you heard her walk towards you, then felt her crawl onto the bed above you once more.

“Don’t peek,” she said as she felt you up once more, running her hands over your hot skin. She slid them up your torso and to your breasts, gently running her thumb over your nipples. Your back arched into her touch. She maneuvered herself between your legs, “such a pretty sight.”

Another shockwave went through your body as you heard those words, you didn’t know you liked praise until this moment.

“You liked that, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you tried to remove your hands.

“Nuh uh, I said no peeking,” she started to draw small circles on your clit again with her thumb, “you’ve been such a good girl…”

You whimpered into her touch, arching your back a bit.

“But I’d like to see you,” her tone became harsh, “be a slut,” and she pressed harder into you.

“Fuck,” you whined.

“Good to know you liked that too,” her fingers danced at your entrance before easily pushing inside of you.

You slammed your hands onto the bed gripping onto the sheets as you arched your back, “FUCK,” you screamed.

She slowly pumped her fingers in and out of you holding one of your thighs open. She kept her steady pace watching you squirm at her touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes but you could feel her staring.

“You’re doing so well for me,” she purred.

You moaned at her praise, hearing her deep chuckle in response. She picked up her pace gradually until she was satisfied, and stayed like that for a few minutes.

As more whines fell out of you, you barely noticed her moving into a different position on top of you until she pulled her fingers out, “Look,” was all she said.

So you fluttered your eyes open, “holy fuck,” you breathed as you watched her suck her fingers clean. But what really caught your eye was what she was wearing: a strap.

“Don’t worry, you can take it, easy,” as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. But first she picked up your legs and folded you in half, “You ready princess?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned.

She smiled as she guided it into you slowly, letting you get used to it.

“Yessss god…Holy fuck,” you moaned when she started to slowly pump in and out of you.

“You okay?” she reassured.

“Never better,” you choked out.

“Thought so,” she smirked. Quickly picking up the pace, “Bet he never made you feel this good, huh?”

“N-never,” your eyes were in the back of your head.

She was now plunging into you at an ungodly pace, “too bad he never got to see how good of a slut you are.”

The praise mixed with degradation was driving you insane, and she was right. He never treated you this well and you loved every second of it and she could tell too. Your tits were bouncing, your eyes were rolled and your legs were shaking. She was hitting you just right, “Oh god, Rhea!” you whined.

She loved hearing you say her name. She was enjoying the view as much as you were enjoying her. The bed began to squeak as she pounded into you. One of her hands snuck its way around your legs and to your neck, gently squeezing around it. Your hand gripped her wrist as you smiled devilishly at her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess,” she huffed.

“Go…faster,” you choked out.

“Such a fucking whore,” she barked, but she grabbed your calves with either hand and pushed your legs father down, completely folding you in half. She took a deep breath and began to pound into you so hard and so fast that you lost your breath.

“YES,” you screamed and after a few more seconds, “FU-U-U-UCKK!!” and you came again. But that didn’t slow her down.

She kept her insane pace, “C’mon baby…one more,” she demanded, “I know you got it in you.”

Whimpering at every push into you, it didn’t take long to the pressure to rise again, “OH FUCK, YESS…GOD, RHEA,” and once again, you came but this time your whole body shook and your legs fell weak under her.

She finally slowed her pace and gently pulled out of you. Your body fell limp as she slid off of you smiling and breathing heavily.

You caught your breath, “four times,” you rested your hands on your forehead, “four…times.”

“I never break my promises.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #i need her in ways that are concerning to the feminist movement

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daisywinchester · 5 months

Text

Win or Lose- Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/N: Hey guys, I'm new to this and just started writing lol. Advice is welcome!!

Summary: You're a Pogue and have been dating the Kook King for four months. At a party at Topper's, you find out your relationship isn't what you thought it was. (Inspired by the movie She's the One)

Words: 6,600+

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I sighed in content feeling the cool breeze on my face as I leaned on the balcony of Topper’s mansion. I looked down at the party below me, everyone dancing to some rap song. I was having a good time, but needed a breather from all of the Kooks. Most of them were nice enough, but I can only handle so much of their Daddy’s money this and Daddy’s money that before I’ve had enough. I’m a born and raised Pogue. I work two jobs to support my mom and younger brother, Spencer. She works hard and has a good heart, but good people can have issues too. When she has good months, she’s sober. When she starts drinking, she spirals. Stops going to work, the drinking is neverending, and I face the pressure of paying all of our bills.

In the mornings, I help deliver groceries with Pope for his dad. He was a few years younger than me in school, but is a nice enough kid. Starting in the afternoons, I waitress at the Country Club, which is where I met my boyfriend, Rafe. I knew the Kook King from high school, but we never really crossed paths until work. Especially since I never finished high school to start working. I served him and his friends one night. It was decently busy and they weren’t outwardly rude, but had me working extra hard. A lot of the older Kooks are pretty respectful if you do a good job, but they were very pretentious. I don’t expect much from people, but they had me running back and forth from the kitchen with ridiculous requests and racked up a $300 bill, leaving me with no tip. As the restaurant cleared out and I was finishing up my shift, Rafe appeared and walked straight towards me.

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” I nodded my head.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked.

“I just wanted to come back to give you this.” He said as he handed me some cash. “I’m sorry my friends were giving you a hard time and we didn’t leave you anything.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I started.

“I want to make sure a nice girl like you gets treated right.” He smiled at me as he turned around while I tried to find words.

“Um, thank you.” I managed to get out as he turned back and winked at me. I stood there frozen, wondering why Rafe was being so nice to me. I shook my head and put the cash in my pocket before I started my walk home.

When I got home, I emptied my pockets to count how much I made tonight. When I got to the cash Rafe gave me, I noticed a note folded inside. It said I think you’re cute. Let’s get dinner sometime. Written underneath was his phone number. I scoffed at first thinking this was some kind of joke. He was such an asshole in high school and thought he was so much better than everyone because of his father. What the hell could he want with me? But I thought about how he came back a couple hours after he had left and what he said to me. Maybe he changed? I set the note on my dresser and went to bed.

A few days had passed and I thought nothing of the note until my brother’s birthday. I had some money aside so us and our mom could go out to dinner. We went to the Carrera’s restaurant since it was his favorite, and I know he was hoping to run into Kiara, who he’s liked since the 3rd grade. The Carrera’s were close family friends, and after we finished eating they brought out a cake for my brother. We all sang Happy Birthday and started eating the cake. Spencer was talking to Kiara so I turned to my mom, who was talking to Mrs. Carerra. They were talking about how the business is going as I continued thinking about the note. We finished up eating and headed back home for the night.

As I was getting ready for bed, I saw Rafe’s note on my dresser again. I couldn’t decide if I should text him or not. I still thought there was something suspicious about it, but I thought about the Carrera’s. She was a Kook and he was a Pogue. Their relationship caused such a scandal back in the day, but they got married and opened the restaurant, making enough to be full Kook. Maybe Rafe was actually interested, he did come back after all. I grabbed my phone and sat on my bed contemplating if I should text him. I sighed. Fuck it, why not. If it’s terrible at least I get a free meal.

Y/N: Hey, it’s Y/N. Sorry I took so long to reach out, I just saw your note. If you’re still up for it, I’d be happy to get dinner sometime.

I waited 45 minutes and no response. I started to get nervous that I made a mistake, or maybe he wasn’t interested anymore. I laid on my bed, my thoughts spinning. Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

Rafe: Hey, Y/N! All good, are you free tomorrow night?

I smiled, I guess I could give this a chance.

Y/N: I have work until 8 if afterwards isn't too late?

Rafe: Sounds good, I’ll pick you up when you’re off :)

I liked his message and let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding. Then, I could barely sleep. I was so nervous.

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Fast forward four months and here I am at Topper’s party. Rafe was a totally different person than I expected. He was better than any boyfriend I’ve ever had. He was so kind and I can’t stop laughing with him. He opened up to me about his issues with his dad and his battle with quitting drugs. I even helped him during his relapse. He drives me to work and picks me up everyday, usually going back to his place where I’ve unofficially moved into his bedroom. His dad was very skeptical of our relationship at first, but after he gave me a chance, he welcomed me into their family. It helped our case that his sister, Sarah, was also dating a Pogue named John B. She is such a sweetheart, but I don’t see her much since she hangs out with him and his friends 24/7. Wheezie is adorable, her and I got along instantly. Rafe wasn’t very close with her because she was so much younger, but we started bringing her along when we go to the movies or get ice cream. Being with Rafe felt like a dream, I had never been happier.

I heard footsteps approaching and I turned around, expecting Rafe to be walking up with our drinks he went to grab but instead faced Topper.

“Oh, hey Top.” I smiled and turned back around as he stood next to me on the balcony. Topper was okay, he wasn’t my favorite person but we got along well enough.

“Heyy Y/N. Where’s your man at?” He slurred and took another sip of his drink. I could smell the alcohol radiating off of him.

“Grabbing our drinks, he should be back in a sec.” I said

“I gotcha. I gotcha.” He said slightly swaying. We stood in awkward silence for a second as he chugged the rest of his drink before he started talking again. “You know Y/N, you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yeah, I mean it is your house we’re at.” I laughed confused.

“No, like, with Rafe.” He said, dramatically emphasizing his name.

“What do you mean Top?” I questioned. I had no idea where he was going with this but I knew he was hammered.

“I basically set you guys up.” He said gesturing to himself and I laughed.

“I guess you’re a good matchmaker then, Cupid.” I smiled at him. I wanted to know what he was talking about, maybe he thinks being an asshole and your friend covering your ass counts as setting someone up.

“Something like that. This whole thing,” he gestured at me and then pointed off in the distance to wherever Rafe was at, “that was all me.” He said as he stumbled into me.

“Do you need a water or something? You are so drunk, Topper.” I said slightly concerned as I helped steady him. He usually drinks too much at his parties from the stress of hosting and worrying about people breaking things so I wasn’t too worried about him. We always know he’s too far gone when he starts crying about Sarah.

“I’m drunk but I know what’s up.” He got out. “You gotta hear this story, Y/N.”

“Alright, go ahead.” I laughed. I wanted to hear what he had to say, and was curious too.

“So that night at the country club when Rafe gave you his number. I told him to. It was my idea.” He slurred.

“Well, thanks Top.” I smiled and patted his back.

“But, like, listen. It’s kind of pathetic you still work as a waitress at the country club, ya know? Rafe is working with his dad to take over the business, my dad doing the same. All the girls from your class are in college, and you’re a waitress.” I frowned.

“Okay, don’t be an asshole. Some of us weren’t born into money and have to work how we can. Someone has to work those jobs. You wouldn’t be able to eat at the country club if it weren’t for waitresses and kitchen staff.” I defended. I tried to brush off what he said as him being drunk but he continued.

“Yeah but we all think it’s pathetic. You’re a Pogue, we’re Kooks. B-but that night,” he slurred again, “we left and were talking about chicks here in OBX and options.”

“That’s lovely, you guys are such gentlemen.” I rolled my eyes. I knew Rafe used to sleep around and how guys talk, but I didn’t want to hear it.

“Thank you.” Topper said, too drunk to pick up on my sarcasm. “And Rafe said ‘Well our waitress was kinda hot’ and we started getting on him for calling a Pogue hot. Then he said ‘I’d never date one, just fuck one.’” I frowned, not liking what I was hearing. “So then I said to him that I bet he’d never last more than three months trying to date a Pogue. And he bet he could do it. And since we had the pleasure of seeing you earlier, we sent him back with the excuse to give you a tip and ask you out.” I couldn’t form words, my head frantically trying to make sense of what Topper just said.

“You’re drunk and don’t know what you’re talking about. Rafe has been nothing but genuine, and we’ve been together for four months now.” I fought back.

“And that’s bullshit!” He yelled. “He was supposed to dump you a month ago because he won but he wanted to keep fucking you for longer. I want my friend back and I want him single and I don’t want to be forced to hang out with a Pogue anymore.” He was fuming. I felt tears spring up. I didn’t know what to think. Was he just saying these things so I would hate Rafe and break up with him, or is there truth to what he’s saying?

“I-I-I” I started but struggled to find words. “I don’t believe that.” I tried to say, but it came out weak.

“Let’s go find Rafe then.” He said grabbing my arm and pulling me with him. He stumbled down the stairs nearly pulling me down them as I grabbed the railing to steady myself. We headed towards the kitchen, and spotted Rafe by the counter pouring a glass of wine as he looked up.

“Hey babe, hey Top. Sorry I was taking so long, you asked for wine and I had to open a new one, but some drunk asshole chucked the wine opener somewhere in the bushes so I’ve been trying to get it open with anything I can find.” He laughed and went to kiss me but I turned my head to dodge it. He frowned. “Baby, everything okay?”

“No, baby, everything is not okay.” Topper said sarcastically as we both looked at him. “I, for one, am pissed at you. And so is Y/N.” Rafe looked down at me.

“Okay, woah” I said putting my hands up in defense, “He is the one that’s pissed and also hammered. I am pissed because you were insulting me, Topper.” Topper started to speak but Rafe cut in.

“What the fuck is she talking about, you insulting her?” He said defensively, stepping towards Topper.

“Nothing that ain’t true man.” Topper put his hands up and stepped back. I put my hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“Can we go talk please?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, you should go talk.” Topper said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafe started.

“Because Miss Waitress needs to go.” Topper started before I interrupted.

“Rafe, he’s drunk and saying a bunch of stupid shit. Can we just leave him and go talk please? It’s serious and I need to know if what he’s saying is even true.” I begged.

“It is true Y/N! I don’t lie when I’m drinking, I am an open book. Drunk words are sober thoughts, sweetheart” Topper yelled. People at the party stopped what they were doing and were starting to crowd around hearing Topper yell.

“If what’s true?” Rafe began to question, clenching his jaw and stepping towards Topper.

“Rafe, please, don’t bother with him, can we go-” I started before Topper yelled again.

“The bet! The fucking bet.” Topper yelled, throwing his hands up. I didn’t miss the look Kelce made, the way he knew what he was talking about. “I am so sick of it. I’m done going along with it, man. It was over a month ago!” Rafe shoved Topper against the wall as our growing crowd gasped.

“Shut the fuck up right now.” He said, fists gripping his shirt pinning him against the wall. Kelce ran up and pulled Rafe off of Topper. They stared each other down before Topper lunged at Rafe, Kelce holding him back. I heard Kelce whisper “Not right now man, what are you doing?”

“Fuck you, Topper. You’re a drunk asshole. Y/N, let’s go.” Rafe said as he started walking towards me. I put my hand up and stopped him.

“Rafe, wait,” I started while tilting my head to the side. Dots were starting to connect, puzzle pieces coming together, and I didn’t want to believe it, but it was making too much sense. “You didn’t deny it.”

“What?” Rafe questioned.

“All you did was tell him to shut up, but” I started shaking my head and tears welled up. “You didn’t- you didn’t say it wasn’t true.”

“Baby, baby,” He started while grabbing my shoulders. “It’s not true, everything he’s saying is a lie. He- He’s drunk. He’s just jealous that I spend more time with you and is making shit up.” He tried reassuring me. Finally, Kelce stepped in.

“Fuck it, I’m over this too. It’s true, Y/N. And I’m completely sober because I’m driving.” Kelce said as he shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry man, but it’s gone on too long.” My heart started racing and the room started to feel overbearingly hot. I was struggling to breathe and my ears were ringing. I could see Rafe trying to talk to me but couldn’t hear him. I didn’t notice I started crying until he tried to wipe my tears away. I put my hands up to block him and turned for the door. The crowd parted as I started walking out. Rafe kept grabbing for my arm but I needed space and started to run. I made it out the door and ran down the path towards the beach. Rafe caught up to me and pulled me to a stop.

“Y/N, wait, please, let me explain.” He said frantically. He actually looked concerned, but I knew it was just an act. What a good actor he was.

“There’s nothing to explain. I think I heard enough from Topper and Kelce. Get away from me.” I sobbed as I yanked my arm out of his grip.

“Please. Y/N. Let me talk to you.” He begged.

“Fine. You answer me first.” I seethed.

“Okay, I can do that.” He nodded.

“Did you ask me out because of a bet?”

“I-well” he started

“Yes or no?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Goodbye, Rafe.” I said and turned around.

“Stop! Wait, please!” He grabbed my arm again.

“Stop touching me. I don’t want to see you Rafe, goodbye.” I yelled at him.

“I can explain everything, please.” He begged. I thought I saw a tear roll down his cheek, but my vision was blurry from the swarm of my own.

“I don’t know what you think there is to explain. You asked me out as a bet because you guys think so lowly of Pogues that we are undateable.” I cried. “I thought you loved me, but it was a lie.”

“It’s not a lie, I do love you.” He pleaded.

“I can’t trust you, Rafe. How can I trust you’re telling me the truth when our whole relationship was built on a lie? You manipulated me, used me just to seem cool to your friends and win a bet. Pretended to be interested in me, with the intention of dumping me in three months! All you did was lead me on.” I cried harder.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it started that way, but I really do love you. I don’t want to lose you” He pleaded again.

“No, Rafe, I’m sorry.” I said, he looked confused. “I don’t believe you when you say you love me, but I’m sorry that you are so entitled that you think you deserve me or my time after what you did. You’re no better than your father, using people and dumping them when you don’t need them anymore. I was a fool for thinking you could be a good person. Thank you for giving me trust issues for the rest of my life. I don’t want to see you ever again.” I turned and started walking away as I left him there crying. I knew comparing him to his father was a low blow, I almost felt bad. But one low blow doesn’t compare to four months of manipulation and lies.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been one week since Topper’s party. One week since I’ve gone to work. My mom and my brother worry about me. I would too. I don’t leave my room. They try to bring me food but I don’t eat it, I haven’t had an appetite since that night. I have to try to get my life back together but I just feel broken. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully fix myself. But I have to. For my brother. For my mom. And for myself, I deserve it too.

It’s been two weeks since Topper’s party. I heard my mom come stumbling home at 3am last night and I know what that means. She’s drinking again. It’s only a matter of time before she loses another job. Once that goes, who pays the bills? I haven’t been working. My brother is still in school, he needs to graduate unlike me. I have to step up.

I finally got out of bed. I called my boss at the country club to ask if I still have my job, she said I will have to pick up extra hours but I can work. I don’t want to see Rafe, but it pays well. I had told her I had a family emergency and needed time off, she didn’t question it because of my mom. This was the first time I checked my phone. Rafe didn’t try to call me. He hasn’t texted me. I don’t know why he would, but it feels weird not seeing his name pop up on my phone. There’s a lot of things I have to get used to again.

I showered for the first time since Topper’s party. I finally looked in a mirror for the first time in a week. I’ll need a lot of makeup to look presentable. When I finally felt ready, I tried to smile in the mirror. I can’t. I hope at work I can manage something, customers don’t like grumpy waitresses. I walked out the door expecting a ride. I was reminded I used to walk to work. I’ll have to get used to that again.

I got to the country club and headed straight to the bathroom. I took some deep breaths to mentally prepare myself to deal with all the Rafes and Toppers and Kelces that frequent this place. You can do this. I tried to tell myself. We’ll see how long I last.

By the end of the day, I was able to form a half genuine smile. Working made me feel normal again. My coworkers tried extra hard to make me laugh and smile, I laughed today. Maybe things will get better.

It’s been a month since Topper’s party. I pick up every shift I can, it keeps my mind busy. I feel almost back to normal, although I don’t know if I’ll ever fully feel right again. Healing takes a long time. I haven’t seen Rafe, but Topper and Kelce walked in two weeks ago. They saw me, put their heads down, and walked right back out. I haven’t seen them since. Good. I was having a really good day. The Kooks are getting excited for their Midsummers. They always tip well at this time of year.

Heading into the backend of my shift, I was in a good mood and ready to close. I was finishing up my break when the hostess called me out for my new table. It stormed today, so no golf. The restaurant isn’t very busy on rainy days unless it’s a weekend. Only two more hours, I can do this. I walked out towards my table and my heart dropped. I saw Sarah sitting on the end, then I saw the rest of the Cameron family. But no Rafe. I can’t do this. I don’t know if I have it in me to face his family. I took a deep breath and went to their table. Thankfully it wasn’t too awkward. They were nice but I could see the pity on their faces. I know the look. I kept wondering how much they knew about our breakup. If they even know the whole or true story. I started to wonder where Rafe was, then scolded myself for even caring where he was. You don’t want to see him. I remind myself. Sometimes I think I miss him, but I think I just miss the thought of him. The fake him. I made it through dinner with the Camerons and sighed in relief, it went better than I thought. Ward tipped me generously. I don’t know if he feels bad for me or just likes to flaunt his money. As I finished cleaning up, Sarah walked back in. Gave me a flashback to Rafe walking back in the night he left me the note.

“Hi Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?” Sarah timidly asked.

“Sure.” I said. Sarah was nothing but nice to me. I won’t fault her for her brother’s actions.

“I’m sure you don’t want to talk to me because of Rafe so I’ll be quick, I told my family I had to use the restroom quickly.” She started.

“Sarah, it’s okay. You can talk to me. It’s not your fault your brother is a dick.” I laughed. She chucked awkwardly.

“Well that’s what I was gonna talk to you about.” She nervously pulled at her hair. “I’m so sorry if that’s crossing a line, I will walk away if you want me to.” She paused.

“I guess go ahead.” I said as I stiffened.

“First I want to say I’m so sorry. I had no idea about the bet or anything when you guys were dating.”

“It’s okay, Sarah, nothing is your fault to be sorry for.” I shrugged.

“I might piss you off by saying this but please just hear me out. I’m not condoning his actions or asking you to take him back. It’s just- I know he asked you out to prove a point and it seemed like it was all a lie and that he was leading you on, but I think his feelings for you were real. Y/N, I didn’t know anything about the bet while you were dating, but I have never seen my brother happier. Our relationship got so much better when he was with you. Him and Wheezie finally got along, he even started being nice to Rose. You both seemed and felt genuine. I don’t mean to ramble, but I’m really worried about Rafe. He never leaves his room, and when he does all he does is yell at everyone. He won’t speak to Topper or Kelce. I’m really worried about him, and I’m scared he’s gonna start doing drugs again. Just- could you please talk to him? I’m not asking you to take him back, but he really needs the closure. And I think you still do too. Will you think about it?” I stared at her for a minute. I didn’t know what to say. Your brother is a great actor then because he fooled you too. Why is he so torn up about it after a month still? Is Sarah right?

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I don’t know what to say.” I said, my head spinning from my thoughts.

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t know what I was thinking by bringing that up to you. That was so stupid and insensitive. I’m so sorry if I made you upset and I totally crossed a line. I should go.” She rambled while turning around.

“Sarah, wait.” I stopped her. “Do-do you really think he actually loved me?” I asked. I nervously played with the rag in my hand. She looked at me apologetically.

“Yes. I do.” She replied walking back out.

I couldn’t sleep that night.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today is Midsummers. I woke up with a pit in my stomach. I work today. Waitstaff from all over OBX fight over working this event, I should be grateful. But I can’t stop thinking about my unavoidable situation: Rafe. He can skip family dinners but he can’t skip Midsummers. His family is too important, he has to be there. I debated calling in sick, but we didn’t have enough for our electric bill this month. Midsummers will pay enough for the entire month, I have to go. We dress fancier for the event, so I have to wear a nice dress. When I finished getting ready, I was shocked when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t recognize who was staring back at me. I’ve never worn a dress like this. I own sundresses, but nothing this extravagant. Although Rafe always said I looked beautiful in anything, even my work uniform after a 12 hour shift. I have to stop thinking like that. I told my coworker I didn’t have a dress and she let me borrow one. She said “I have the perfect dress for you. It’ll look amazing.” She was right. I feel amazing. I even curled my hair and put on extra makeup. I might even say I look like I would fit in at Midsummers. Now I have a completely different feeling about tonight. I feel confident, a new sense of self, the best I’ve felt about myself since the breakup. Now I want to run into Rafe. Let him see what he fucked up.

Some time has passed since I started working and I haven’t seen Rafe yet. I ran into Sarah and Wheezie, they said I looked amazing. Wheezie said she misses me, and that she was angry at Rafe. I’m not angry anymore, it’s hard to describe what I feel. I miss what we had, but I try to remind myself it wasn’t real. Is it loss? Am I still brokenhearted? I feel a longing, but it can’t be for Rafe. It can’t be. I was so lost in my thoughts I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking as I turned the corner and bumped into someone. They grabbed my waist to steady me as I almost fell.

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you oka-” The stranger spoke at the same time as me.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Are you oka-” I paused as I looked up to see Rafe. We both froze as if time stopped. We didn’t know what to do. Suddenly we both jumped away from each other as if we touched lava. We both stood there mouths agape trying to form words and couldn’t. I panicked and ran away.

I rushed into the bathroom breathing heavily. In my head when I pictured running into him it was by seeing him from afar, not literally running into him. It threw me off. My confidence faltered and my head felt scrambled. I was gripping the sink looking down muttering to myself. The other women in here probably thought I was crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on my waist and I felt the ghost of them still there. I thought about how good he looked in that suit. Moving on is a lot harder than I thought it was. Do I miss him? No. Stop it. He hurt you. I finally looked up into the mirror and almost fainted thinking I saw a ghost behind me.

Ward Cameron.

“Y/N, you look like you’re going through something but you ran into the men’s room” He said. I almost died of embarrassment. Thankfully no one else was in here. This all felt like a dream and my head was still foggy.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry. I-I thought this was- Shit, I wasn’t paying attention. I-I was running and-” I rambled, fumbling over my words. I hurried back out to the hallway. Ward followed me out.

“Are you okay? You look really pale, are you sick?” He asked concernedly.

“Yeah I’m fine I just, I- threw me off- bumped into him- fuck” I scrambled for the words as I slapped my forehead. Ward offered me a weak smile.

“I take it you ran into my son?” He asked.

“Literally. Physically.” I sighed.

“You know, Rafe and I, we don’t talk much. He doesn’t tell me things. But I want to say this: Rafe didn’t have to tell me that he loved you. I saw it. Now I don’t know what happened between you two, but it really tore him up, and I think you both need to talk. He hasn’t been the same since. And clearly you need a resolution to this too. I saw your face at the country club when you spotted us and your sigh seeing he wasn’t there. You may feign that as relief, but I saw disappointment. You’re your own person, so do what you want, but I think you need a conversation. Have a good rest of your night.” He smiled and walked away as I was left speechless.

Could Ward be right about Rafe? I don’t even know what to think anymore. I have so many unanswered questions. I think back to what Topper had said, about Rafe staying with me even after the bet ended. He said it was to keep fucking me for longer, but he was angry. Did Rafe want to keep dating me or keep using me? Maybe he truly did love me. I felt insane. Ward and Sarah were right, I really need to talk to Rafe. For my sanity, I need answers. I need closure. I can’t focus on this right now, I have to finish working. I took a deep breath to try to focus and headed back to the deck.

I felt eyes on me. Rafe and I kept catching each other’s eyes all night. I could feel the awkward tension. I just wanted this night to be over. I was considering quitting after Midsummers, try to find another job. If I don’t run the risk of running into Rafe or his family as much, maybe I’ll stop thinking about him. Or maybe I want to run into him. It’s all so confusing, I’ve never been more frustrated in my life. Slowly, the Kooks started to go home and we started cleaning up. The Camerons were some of the last people here, finishing up their conversations with the stragglers. I finished cleaning my area and was ready to go home. I needed to clear my head first, so I started towards the dock. Listening to the waves and looking out over the sea will help me think.

I sat on the edge of the dock letting my feet hang over and took a deep breath. I stared out at the sky, focusing on the constellations and the moon. I almost felt at peace. Almost. My mind was still racing, but my thoughts were cut short by a voice from behind me.

“Y/N?” I turned around to see Rafe. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but can we please talk?” He asked hopefully. I paused for a minute, I was dreading this moment but knew we both needed it.

“Fine.” I said shortly and he moved to sit on the edge of the dock a safe distance from me. We were silent for a moment before he began.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he said. I didn’t respond. I could feel him looking at me, but I looked down as I nervously played with my hands. “I wish I could tell you that the bet was a lie, but it’s not. I just- I’m so sorry, I-”

“Why?” I cut him off. “Why did you think it was okay to play with my feelings like that? To act like I’m not a person with emotions too. To plan to lead me on for three months just to dump me? You made it feel so real, Rafe. All for it to be one big lie.” I felt the tears welling up, all the repressed feelings coming back up again.

“It was real to me,” He whispered as I looked over at him. The tears forming in his eyes glistening in the moonlight. “I know how shitty it was to even accept that bet. When you didn’t text me for a few days, I was relieved because I didn’t want to go through with it. But then you texted me, and I felt worse. I was hoping the guys would forget about it and move on, but they saw it. I only planned on taking you to dinner to get them off my back and to stop it there. I could live with being a loser. But after our date, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Y/N, I know our relationship started because of a terrible reason, but those were the best four months of my life. I fell in love with you, I felt so guilty when the time ran up. I made up some bullshit reason why we were still seeing each other so the guys would leave it alone. I was hoping they would forget about it, but they didn’t. I should’ve been honest with you. I want to say I shouldn’t have taken the bet but I would be lying. Because asking you out was the best decision I have ever made. I’m so sorry I fucked up and hurt you.” He put his hand on my arm. “When you say I made it feel so real but that I was lying the whole time, I never lied about loving you.” I stared at him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Everything Ward and Sarah said, what Rafe is saying, I want to believe it, but I don’t know if I can.

“Rafe, you broke my trust. I just can’t tell if you’re telling the truth. And I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t know if I can handle it. I really loved you but I still don’t know if you really love me.” I cried. I want to believe him so badly. My heart is telling me he does but my mind can’t stop questioning it.

“Y/N, I love you. If you don’t want me back, I’ll have to try to find a way to live with it. But I don’t know if I can. I love you so much.” He grabbed both of my hands in his as I stared into his eyes, daring to catch a glint of a lie.

“Don’t lie to me,” I whispered.

“Loving you was never a lie. I never thought I could love someone so much. And I don’t care that you’re a Pogue. You are the hardest working person I have ever met. You care so much about other people, you forget to care about yourself. You light up every room you walk into. You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last when I fall asleep. I never stop thinking about you. Every day since Topper’s party, I’ve felt haunted by my regret and wished you were with me every second of the day. I wish I could go back and fix things. I see you in everything I do and everywhere I go. You changed my life and I don’t want to spend any more days without you. But please, don’t say it was a lie that I loved you. And if you don’t want me back, I’ll have to live with this mistake for the rest of my life because out of all the stupid shit I’ve done in my life, this is the worst.” My mind was racing. I wanted so badly for him to hold me again. To love me again. Would I be a fool to take him back? Would everyone think I’m an idiot for taking back someone who hurt me? My thoughts were swirling, but kept going back to the same thing I think I always knew but tried to bury down: I still love him.

“I love you too, Rafe. I never stopped,” I started to smile. A full, genuine smile for the first time in a month. His eyes lit up as he smiled and we both leaned in. I was finally content again. You were right, Topper. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and your stupid bet.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx fic #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks imagine

132 notes · View notes

cassiefromhell · 4 months

Note

Fluff nothing explicit between eris, lucien, and gn reader maybe hugs and cuddles in bed with both of them?

I hope you had a happy new year!

After Work

Lucien x Reader x Eris

wc: 1.2k, just a baby oneshot

warnings: in true cassie fashion, i made it a little depressing at first lol. slightly depressing thoughts, COMFORT, it gets better i promise.

a/n: and i'm back!! recs are open, next part of BAF is underway!

It’s been a long, long day.

You sigh, stepping in through the door and tossing your bag on a chair, running a hand over your face. You hang up your coat, numbly going through your typical post-work routine; take off the heels that have been hurting you all day, let your hair down from its suffocating bun, and sit down at the dining room table.

And for the second time this month and the billionth time these past two years, you drop a pink slip onto the tablecloth.

You whimper, letting your head fall to rest against the splendid tablecloth, probably another god damn Autumn Court bajillion dollar heirloom.

“Love?” Lucien’s familiar voice calls out from across your chambers in the palace, his footsteps approaching. His scent of cinnamon and fire floods your nose, followed by a sigh. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Lucien comes to stand by your side, and you don’t even lift your head, too busy wallowing in your failure. He lifts the pink slip, then sets it on fire.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he murmurs, kneeling beside you. He rubs your back, pressing his face to your shoulder. “They’re idiots. All of them. We’ll tell Eris and he’ll—”

“Can we not? Tell Eris?” You interrupt, peering over at him. “I hate the face he makes when he finds out. Just this once. I’ll tell him when I secure a new job, I promise.”

This wasn’t the first time you were fired from a job, and you were sure it wasn’t the last. You never used to have problems holding a job — in fact, you were a star employee at your work in Velaris, and before that you had been living nothing short of a dream life with your dream job in the Winter Court. You loved what you did, and everyone loved you.

That was, until two years ago, when you had met Eris and Lucien and immediately discovered that they were your mates — your loves, your fated future and family. And you loved them. You did, and you still do… but there are side effects to being the mate of the High Lord of Autumn and his bastard brother that you had never even thought about.

Eris was not well liked in other courts, and since the news about Lucien being Helion’s scandalous son came out… well, it was a reputation that followed them everywhere.

In Autumn? Everything was hunky dory.

But in every other court, particularly the courts that offered your dream jobs? They scowled and batted away the two Vanserras.

Autumn was amazing in every way, but the open positions weren’t for you, and every time you found a job you really liked in another court? You lasted two weeks, maybe three until someone found out and ratted on you. The call into your boss’s office and the pink slip came not long after.

So, here you were, wallowing, and asking your mate to keep a secret.

Lucien sighs, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, my love. He’ll find out eventually, and until then it’ll just be weighing on you.”

You frown, looking back to the tablecloth. “I just— I don’t want him, or you for that matter, to be worried about it. It’s my concern, and mine only.” You sniffle.

“That, my sweet, is not how mates work. Your concern is mine and Eris’s. Our concerns are yours. We’re a team. Come on,” he stands, sweeping you up out of the chair and into his arms. With a flick of his wrist, the kettle starts. “We’ll have some tea in bed. You can cry, or talk about it, or just lay there. But I will not have you wallowing on your own.”

You feel the exact moment that he told Eris through the bond, via the sudden change in emotions coming down the golden string that attached you to Eris. He goes from completely neutral to angry, and then suddenly sad. Sad for you. Sad because you weren’t fucking good enough to—

You start crying before you even get to bed, and Lucien just holds you tighter, stroking your hair. He lays down, pulling the covers over the both of you and laying you across his chest.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head as your tears wet his shirt. “I’m here. It’ll be okay, I promise. Let’s get you sitting up and sipping some tea, okay? I think you’re dehydrated.”

A few moments later, his arm is around your waist and you’re sipping at a steaming cup of tea, curled up in his lap. He’s still stroking your hair, murmuring sweet nothings.

The door opens slowly, and Eris pokes his head in, still wearing his fancy royal clothing and crown. It took him much longer to get here than it usually does, but he’s here anyway.

“Hi,” Eris says softly, walking over and sitting on the bed in front of you. He reaches out and strokes your cheek, wiping away a few tears. “Again, huh?”

You sniffle and nod, holding your tea a little tighter. Lucien looks a little concerned for the health of the teacup in your hands.

Eris tosses his crown aside and crawls over to be sitting beside you. Lucien reluctantly lets him pull you into his own lap as you sip at your tea once more — which has now gone cold.

“I have something for you. Do you want it now, or later?” Eris kisses your temple, then down your cheek, stopping with a little peck on the side of your mouth. “Hmm?”

The last thing you want is some new piece of jewelry to remind you that your mates are a million times better than you are, but you shrug anyway. “Now, I suppose,” you answer with a hoarse voice, clearing your throat.

Eris reaches into his pocket, and covers your eyes. “Hold out your hands.”

You do so, and then there’s a jingle, the smell of metal, and something falls into your hands. Your eyes are uncovered, and you find… a key ring in your hand, with two brass keys.

You blink, and then blink again. “What?”

Lucien grins softly, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your head up to look at him. He must be in on this. “They’re the keys to your business, of course. On Maple street, a few blocks away from the palace. The building you’ve always said is pretty. It’s yours.”

Your eyes are watering again, but for an entirely different reason. “What… no— no, you didn’t.”

“We did,” Eris says, running a hand through your hair. “If you want a building in a different court, we can always—“

“No,” you bite your lip, fighting a grin. “It’s perfect. It’s so, so perfect. But— it must have been expensive—”

“Don’t wanna hear it,” Lucien shakes his head.

You wrap your arms around Lucien’s neck, kissing him, and then do the same for Eris, speaking the whole time; “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You squeal, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You wanna go see—”

You’re up and out of bed before Lucien even finishes his sentence, running towards the door.

“Shoes! And a coat!” Eris calls after you.

Of course you had forgotten those things. Because you were too excited.

You were ready for your fresh start, mates by your side.

#writing #fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris acotar #eris vanserra #fanfic #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien x reader #vanserra x reader #vanserra brothers

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azrielhours · 11 months

Text

Waiting on a Ghost

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 9k. lmao

Synopsis: Reader moves to Windhaven before the Great War against slavery begins to help the cause. A fleeting romance blossoms unexpectedly between her and Azriel as attraction pulls them together, as they tiptoe around a bond that grows in their chests. They seek each other, and she waits to reunite with him through the war, through silence and sound, through hope and home. Inspired by the Odyssey.

Song inspo: Yebba’s Heartbreak by Drake

Warnings: Smut. Canon typical violence. This one hurt a fkn lot lol.

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

There’s nothing unique about the out-of-place feeling that comes with moving. You knew there would be a sense of uprooting upon changing homes. What you didn’t know was that your new home wouldn’t be a place. It would be him.

Rumours about a war breaking out had initially seemed like conspiracies. Enslaved mortals revolting, Human Queens leading an uprising. It quickly became a reality check when the King of Hybern massacred his slaves. The threat of war lurked like a storm on its way to claim fathers, neighbours, sons, to make widows out of wives, exchanging loneliness like a transaction for its violent means.

Your father knew he would be more useful to the cause closer to the fray, which is how you wound up packing your belongings and moving to a war camp called Windhaven. Home to the aerial cavalry of the Night Court, your father explained.

Settling in was as fast-paced as the war preparations. Warriors of legendary might walked the grounds, and you quickly acclimated to the sight of an Illyrian warrior shooting down from the sky in a landing. As your father worked tirelessly with weapon making, you’d found the nearest female and offered to do anything useful. “Please.”

She’d turned out to be a seamstress, noting your flustered state, unused to the casual prowl of the inked warriors that called this place home. She’d told you her name was Rhiannon as she directed you to meal preparations.

You did your best to ignore the stares you received during the communal dinners; the male hunger.

Rhiannon would laugh in passing at your flushed cheeks. “They’re not used to seeing refined ladies,” she’d tease. “I fear for the health of my sons when they see you.” You would rush back to work to the sound of her laughter.

One evening, there was a shift in the kitchen energy, whispers of some entourage. One of the girls informed you the High Lord had arrived. The soldiers he’d come with were seated nonchalantly amongst the usual faces you’d begun recognizing.

The High Lord was nowhere to be seen, and the warriors were no different than the rest. You gingerly stepped between the only empty seat, situated before a hulking warrior standing nearby who was turned away, occupied in conversation. You leaned forward to set your tray down, but before it contacted the table, something slammed into you from behind, knocking you forward. You braced for impact, losing your grip on the tray. Gasping in horror, you anticipated the clatter of dishes, but it never came. A hand to your left shot out instinctively, stabilizing the tray. Warrior reflexes. The table fell silent in the wake of your tumble, all eyes on you as you pushed yourself up off the table.

You turned, searching for the cause of your fall. Before you stood the warrior who’d been previously conversing; a giant, rugged mass of a male with hair down to his jaw. Red siphons gleamed in your peripherals. “I’m so sorry,” he said, hazel eyes wide. His hands were open and paused mid-reach, like he stopped himself from steadying you.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, still shaken.

“I didn’t see you. You’re so—” he brought a hand up, holding his index and thumb out to convey smallness. A laugh huffed out of you at his mild panic. He dropped the pinching gesture. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, smiling this time. You turned to assess the table. The tray… someone had grabbed it. Mid-air. You found it’d been set down by its saviour. The male seated to your left whose attention was now on you. Another set of hazel eyes.

These ones stole your breath away.

You stared and he stared right back. His golden-tanned skin seemed to glow in contrast to the darkness of his raven hair, his fighting leathers. “Oh,” you breathed. God, he was… beautiful. The most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. Pink blossomed on his high cheekbones, further accentuating the elegant planes of his face. “Thank you,” you breathed.

His head dipped in a silent nod. Shadows wafted around him as he continued to watch you. You ducked your head and turned abruptly to escape the weight of his gaze.

You ran right into a hard body. Stepping back, your eyes met with the first perpetrator. He smiled sheepishly, muttering another apology and stepping aside.

“Cassian, would you stop harassing the poor girl?” A female voice drew your attention. Lady Rhiannon. Thank God. She strode towards the table, a kind smile on her face. “I told you you’d sweep my boys off their feet. But it looks like they beat you to it.”

You stared, face hot.

“I was talking about the fall you took, darling,” she winked. “Isn’t that right, Cassian?”

“I’m very sorry about that,” he said again, brows raised in earnest honesty as he took the empty seat.

“These are your sons?” you exhaled.

She nodded, smiling fondly. “There’s one more. Rhysand, who’s just speaking to his father.”

You nodded, still off-kilter. She just chuckled, offering her arm, guiding you back. Cassian, Rhysand, and... The pretty one. They didn’t say his name.

“Azriel,” she said softly. You glanced over in question. She smiled knowingly. “His name is Azriel.”

You began blushing again. With a gentle pat on your cheek, she left you with your thoughts.

Before crossing the threshold back to the kitchen, you turned to glance at the table. Through the sea of people, you found him watching you. The shadows swirling around his head and wings were like the seeping essence of a dark angel; his eyes were clear and focused as they held your gaze.

Azriel.

The days passed and the males grew restless as talk of war circulated. You kept your head down, helping everywhere you could. At the end of your shift in the kitchen, Rhiannon came to personally invite you to her home for a gathering. “To keep the soldiers’ spirits up.”

“I don’t have anything nice to wear,” you patted down your apron. You’d given everything away with the abrupt move.

“You’re talking to a seamstress,” she teased. “I’m sure I have something for you.”

At her house, she had you try on dresses until you found one you liked. In your gratitude for her continuous show of kindness, you insisted on staying to help prepare for the gathering.

Guests began trickling in as the sun set. High-ranking officials populated the sitting area, and the house was soon full. You served refreshments, ushering guests in. Looking to the door for the hundredth time, you suppressed your disappointment at the absence occupying your awareness. You chastised yourself for caring, for wanting him to see you dressed up instead of frazzled in an apron, dumbfounded and speechless.

Motion on the windowsill pulled you out of your thoughts. Moving closer to get a better look, you realized what it was.

Shadows.

Immediately, you backed away, fussing with your skirts. The door opened, and in walked Cassian and another male bounding for Rhiannon. So this is Rhysand, then. At her friendly beckon, the males’ attention turned to you.

“Y/N, dear, you’ve met Cassian, and this is my son Rhysand.”

Cassian smiled down at you with wide-eyed sincerity. You returned his smile before surveying Rhysand.

His violet eyes matched his mother’s. “Please call me Rhys.” He offered a hand, tugging yours up to kiss your knuckles. “You’re the new lady, aren’t you? The one Cassian knocked down.”

Cassian muttered under his breath as you laughed. “I’m not a lady.”

“You certainly look like one,” he mused.

“Where’s Azriel?” Rhiannon asked, unfazed by her son’s shameless flirting.

“On the veranda,” Cassian answered.

Rhys’s gaze turned to you once more, something suddenly sparking in his eyes that made you brace yourself. “He could use some encouragement,” he purred.

“I’m sorry?”

Cassian smiled, catching the insinuation. “He’s a little shy. Maybe you could ask him to come inside.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

Oh.

You took your tray and made your way to him.

Azriel was leaning against the wooden railing, observing the attendees occupying the grounds, wings folded tightly to his spine. A shadow curled at his ear, and he turned to face you, standing straight and tucking his hands behind his back.

His eyes tracked you as you approached him. Your stomach was doing flips beneath his stare, but you forced yourself to break the silence. “Lady Rhiannon—she told me your name is Azriel.”

A dip of the head. “It is. What’s yours?”

You suppressed a shiver at the baritone drag of his voice. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Were you just going to stay out here all night, Azriel?” You shamelessly indulged yourself, testing his name again. A small part of him you could borrow like sugar.

“I think I’m alright out here,” he spoke gently. He eyed the drinks in hand. “You’re always carrying a tray,” a small smile tugged his lips upward.

You matched his smile. “Except for when I drop it in front of all the soldiers.”

His smile deepened. “That’s on Cassian, not you.”

You took another step forward. “Well, thankfully you were there to help.”

Despite the command of his stature, he averted your gaze, flushing. “Don’t mention it.” He’s a blusher, then. He still smiled, tugging at your heartstrings. A beat of silence, then he said, “You’re here to help with the war efforts?”

“Yes. My father is a blacksmith.”

He nodded thoughtfully, eyes wise beyond his years. “Do you miss home?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know if… I have a home.”

He studied you. “No?” he asked softly. “No scenery or family to miss?”

You averted your gaze. “Not really. I don’t have any family besides my father.” You offered a small smile to ease the tension. “I brought my favourite books with me, that’s enough for now.”

“I’m not unfamiliar with that feeling,” he voiced, eyes scanning the crowd of warriors.

“No family?” you repeated his question.

“I have my brothers. That’s enough for now.”

A beat of silence as you both sat in your confessions.

“You’re going to fight in the war?” You asked foolishly.

His attention returned to you. “Of course. It’s an honour.”

You nodded, pain suddenly stabbing in your chest at the thought. Azriel’s shy nature was blasphemy in war. Maybe he feels as out of place as I do.

Looking around at the males, you sought to distract yourself from the sorrow you felt. Azriel noted your distressed gaze sweeping the yard, misunderstanding its cause.

“Let me,” he said, taking the tray off your hands.

You huffed a laugh. “You’re always taking trays from me,” you teased.

Azriel just smiled. “I’m at your disposal.”

As he turned to step off the veranda, you couldn’t stop yourself— “Azriel.” He halted, turning back to face you. “When you’re finished… come inside.”

Caught off guard, he stared, brows high.

You cleared your throat. “They, um… they told me to ask you to come in.”

He cocked his head to the side, a crooked smile this time. “Did they?”

You bit your lip shyly. “Mhm. I mean, only if you’d like to,” you tried.

He didn’t indulge you, holding his ground silently; a cheekier side of him that he hadn’t shown before. His crooked smile remained, eyes narrowing playfully at your slip of the tongue.

You scoffed, blushing harder. “Will you come inside please, Azriel?”

He laughed, letting you off the hook. “Alright. I’ll meet you inside, then.”

“Okay,” you said, turning on your heel before you made any more of a fool of yourself.

Inside, Cassian and Rhys immediately bounded over, displaying a familiarity with you that warmed you to the bone. “Where is he?” Cassian asked.

“He’s handing out drinks to the other warriors.”

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a bewildered look. “What?” you asked at the sudden shock.

“You got Az serving refreshments to the Illyrians?” Cassian gaped.

Rhiannon joined your group, smiling as her boys howled with laughter. She smiled at you. “Like I said. You’re bad news for the health of my sons.”

A week passed since the gathering. Azriel never left your thoughts. Even your father noted how you’d often zone out, gazing at shadows as evenings fell, watching them dance. Your daydreams would frequent the memories of the gathering, the shy glances on the veranda, how happy you felt when Azriel indeed came back to you.

Cassian and Rhys kept you company. When Azriel arrived, it felt like something settled into place. Like the sense of uprooting had resolved. He smiled and walked over, and you listened as his brothers told you animated story after story of all the trouble the three of them had gotten into through the years.

Your joy was cut short when Azriel got called away for something with the High Lord. You didn’t get a chance to see if he’d ask you to dance with him.

A knock on the door yanked you back to reality. You crossed your house to answer the door, but your father was already there. You peered from behind him as he opened the door, freezing at the sight of the hazel-eyed Illyrian standing on your veranda with his hands tucked behind his back. Your father asked him, “What can I do for you, son?”

Azriel dipped his head in greeting, eyes flitting to yours before addressing your father. “Sir, I have some books that belonged to my mother. They’re of no use to me. I thought since your daughter was learned, she might… appreciate them.”

“That’s very generous,” your father said, stepping aside.

“Thank you,” you breathed, reaching to take the books Azriel pulled from behind his back. Two novels. His fingers brushed against yours, and you hoped your father wouldn’t notice the blush staining your cheeks.

“You must come in,” your father said, turning to lead the way inside. But Azriel opened his mouth to object, his cheeks blushing red.

“Oh, no, I should probably get back,” Azriel objected, his eyes darting to the floor.

“He seems more comfortable outside, father,” you cut in. “Perhaps you could go on a walk with him.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and you bit back a smile. “Well the weather is nice,” your father said, gesturing for Azriel to lead the way. Azriel looked back at you as your father exited the threshold, throwing a playful glare at you for having cornered him. You grinned brazenly, closing the door.

You spent the next while sitting by the window in your room, watching fondly as Azriel walked with your father around the grounds. You only felt slightly guilty for orchestrating it. The books he brought you were clutched to your chest like treasures. You finally broke your attention off the pair outside and opened the first novel.

The smile was wiped off your face. There was a note written in precise handwriting that fell onto your lap, and a portrait of Azriel. You couldn’t help but trace over the portrait of his handsome face like a widow, like he was yours and the longing you felt was justified. You let yourself read his note.

You said your books are enough home for you. These are my favourites, so you have a piece of my home as well.

Rhys made me add the portrait. So you don’t forget me, Y/N.

You’d gotten used to the routine of things, finding fulfilment in the work and bustle of the camp. Most of all, you anticipated the glances during dinners. His books sat on your nightstand. His portrait inside, his handwriting. You’d pass by tables of warriors and beam with glee, thinking they don’t know I have Azriel’s books in my room. In the kitchen, singing as you worked. They don’t know he wants me to remember him. It made you hope and dream, made the future feel less bleak.

Until one dinner, when a young boy came running through the halls. The Windhaven Messenger, bringing a letter from another Illyrian camp. “The High Lord commands deployment!”

The communal hall fell silent as the boy continued his declaration. “The King of Hybern has sent out his commanders. We set out westward tonight!”

The Illyrians immediately rose, the silence turning over as quickly as it fell. The warriors left their tables and began exiting to prepare to march to their high lord. Some were whooping in excitement, some looking for their friends, a few sending prayers above. Your stomach sank, the dishes in your hand clattering to the floor. You didn’t care, stepping over them and searching for him, for his brothers.

You found Azriel at his table, a calm force standing still while everyone around him rushed about. His face was solemn but settled. Once again, his very nature seemed sacrilege in the face of battle. A contradiction that seemed unnatural and cruel.

You held each others’ gaze, the entire camp bustled around you while the two of you stood vigil at either end of the hall, two upright pillars surrounded by a raging storm.

Finally, someone clasped Azriel’s shoulder, drawing his attention aside as he listened, likely a command from a superior. Azriel looked back once more before he followed the male outside with the rest of the Illyrians, leaving you to pick up the pieces off the floor, broken glass and broken heart alike.

When the cleaning finished, you headed back to your house. At home, you took what you needed, steeled your nerves, and headed in the direction your heart commanded before cowardice overpowered you.

Lady Rhiannon’s house. Three knocks on the door as loud as your heart hammered. You told yourself you wouldn’t mind if Cassian or Rhys answered the door. They deserved goodbyes as well, deserved your prayers and parting words.

But when Azriel opened the door, you sighed in relief. Then got overtaken with nerves all over again. “Azriel,” you breathed.

He stepped out onto the porch, jaw tense and eyes piercing. “Y/N.”

He could surely hear how your heart raced, see how you fumbled with your hands. “I—I brought you this book. To take with you.” You extended it forward.

His eyes softened. “A piece of your home.”

Holding his gaze steadily, you said, “Yes. A piece of my home.” Spoken with the certainty that only he brought out of you in this place as you drank him in like the elixir of life.

His head dipped imperceptibly. “Thank you,” he held the book with reverence, opening it. You held your breath as you bore the vulnerability. Inside the book was your own portrait for Azriel’s remembrance, and a note. You watched as his typically stoic face opened, how his eyes widened, his mouth parted.

You’d required Cassian’s aid in tracking down an alchemist to render your portrait using Dawn Court magic. Your note to Azriel was as an invitation to write to you. Permission. You stepped back on the porch, watching the men walk the ground as he read your note.

Perhaps my books aren’t enough anymore. Perhaps I’ve finally found the home I’ve been searching for.

I could never forget you, Azriel Shadowsinger.

You turned back to him, and Azriel’s piercing hazel stare flashed to yours. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Neither of you knew how to maneuver around the sentiments. You shook your head, turning to leave in the wake of bashfulness. “Y/N,” he breathed, reaching forward.

He wrapped a strong forearm around your waist, pulling you back to him. You gasped, body flush with his chest, hands flying to his shoulders. Azriel kissed you, pulling you impossibly tighter to his broad chest, so firmly to him that your feet left the ground. His other arm wrapped around you, and you melted. His lips were soft but his kisses were demanding. He pressed deeper into your mouth, leaning forward until you were set back on your feet, but you still clung to him. Your eyes remained blissfully closed as you gasped inhales, exhaling sighs into his mouth when he didn’t let up, claiming your bottom lip between his own. His hard body around yours made your head cloud over, made you breathe harder as you tried and failed to regain your bearings.

Until the front door opened again, and Azriel released your mouth. Cassian and Rhysand stepped out and walked around where the two of you remained firmly embraced. Rhysand laughed, his stride unfaltering as Cassian followed, yelling over his shoulder, “he’ll be back!”

Azriel rested his mouth on your shoulder as they strode off, as you caught your breath, still clinging to him. His arms released your waist, hands moving to your shoulder blades as he too panted raggedly. He still pressed you to his chest, his shadows dancing around your pairing. Finally, he broke off entirely, leaving you standing in a complete daze on the porch. He re-entered the house with the door open between the two of you. You watched as he slung a bag over his shoulder, securing the last of his weapons onto his person, then stepped back onto the porch. He stared into your eyes, the intensity piercing, nearly making your knees buckle.

“I’ll wait for you,” you breathed.

Azriel was still breathing hard. He didn’t say anything, just clutched onto the book. He slowly walked around you, holding your gaze, collecting his composure. Until he turned, joining his brothers at the end of the yard.

You ran down the path to where women gathered to send their men off and waited for Azriel’s unit to march on. A chorus of goodbyes and well-wishes echoed in the air, colonels organizing their men, but you could’ve sworn a soft lullaby drifted above it all as you found Azriel in the ranks. As he took you in with the same longing in his eyes that you just tasted on his lips. You heard the melody play and tried to lean into it, to let it be the last thing you felt as he marched away instead of the sorrow rapidly displacing it. I’ll be here, you vowed. And you’ll come back to me.

There was a sense of fracturing between your ribs. Perhaps your heart breaking so soon after he’d just made it dance with unity, with joy and yearning and rightness.

His gaze snapped to yours one last time. Determination in them this time. You felt it as much as you saw it. Yes.

Azriel, you will come home to me.

Only after the Illyrians shot to the skies did you break your gaze. Pointing it further skyward, you commanded, bring my home back to me.

The beginning was the hardest; the jarring sense of deprivation after weeks of liveliness, of full tables and packed schedules. There were days when you’d wander the grounds, memorizing his home while he was away, searching for glimpses of the honing of his life.

You never knew silence could be so sinister.

Painful days stretched to painful weeks. Months.

News came in scattered clusters through letters received by the women. Hybern sent out his greatest commanders, Amarantha and Clythia to partake in the war. That’s what prompted the hasty deployment.

You wrote to Azriel, asking about his wellbeing, if he had any idea when it would be before he returned. If he was safe.

Azriel did not write back.

Every morning, you’d head to the communal hall where the messengers brought letters from the living and reports on the dead. You’d search for Azriel’s name in both and find it present on neither.

According to a woman whose husband marched in Azriel’s legion, the High Lord coveted Azriel for his Shadowsinging powers, that he now personally commanded Azriel. That explained the radio silence, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. The High Lord fears that his son will rival him in power, she told you, rubbing your arm. He’s separated the three boys in fear of usurping.

Lady Rhiannon would visit, would wipe your tears and shed her own. My Rhys is only 28, she once cried. She told you how Azriel had been imprisoned by his father for 11 years, how he ached to fly, what scarred his hands. She stopped when your tears made it hard to see, instead telling you about how Cassian used to hide in his wings as a child when he was embarrassed, how he played pranks on the High Lord’s council, how the boys once convinced him to swim in the nearby river and took off with his clothes.

That was in the first year. In the second year, it became less bearable to speak about Azriel. There were a few Illyrians who stayed behind, who had the gall to try to court you in his absence. One in particular, Eurymachus, was relentless. He’d find you in the communal hall and tell you, “He’s not coming back. You’re waiting on a ghost.”

The ghost of him was better than any living man.

By the third year, some women moved to a camp closer to the war, including Lady Rhiannon, whose departure was salt on your bleeding wound.

News was still scattered. The last you’d heard, there was a realm where the slaves were freed by two warriors named Miryam and Morrigan.

You prayed that brought the fighting closer to an end. Hope became a ration of war.

When days slipped by and the nights lingered, you’d close your eyes and replay the last time you touched him—the first time, the only time—his hard chest against yours. How his hands pressed you close, how he breathed directly into your mouth. So you’d slip out of bed and write to him again.

Azriel Shadowsinger,

I did not get the chance to dance with you. I never got to hold your hand, never got to walk with you. But still, I dream of the day I live out those wishes. I’ve been evicted from my home all over again. I may be inside a structure but it’s just a matter of rooms. My true home is wherever you are. I pray my home is safe, I pray it’s on its way back to me.

I feel something deep in my chest that sings to me, that feels an awful lot like an instrument. It stirs inside me like a canary in a coal mine. Maybe I’m losing my grip on sanity, but I tell myself that it’s you, that you may not write to me, but your heart sings to mine.

I did not get to say vows to you, Azriel, and maybe I never will, so let this be my first. I take you, Azriel Shadowsinger, for everything you are, in your sound and silence. I will continue to wait for you, and I will only stop when I stop breathing. Come back to me.

Seven years.

The war went on for seven excruciating, unimaginably long years.

Your father died in the fourth year, making the passage of time longer and shorter at the same time, making it run weird, stretching in some places, thinning in others. You’d been bedridden for months. Other women at the camp came to care for you but remembrance was a blur.

“I’m waiting on a ghost,” you’d told them once.

“Doesn’t it make sense to live for him, then? What’s the point if you’re both ghosts.” That was the day you left the bed.

Live for the ghost. Live for Azriel.

You’d learned archery. The deserters trying to court you persisted shamelessly, only growing bolder with your father’s passing. His passing also meant the money gradually ran out. The women trained you, giving you something to do with all the waiting. Gave you the means to provide dinner for the small group of you that ate together.

They all knew who you waited for. You stopped going to the hall to seek his name, only listening for the strum that sometimes arose inside your ribs, willing one back. A shout across the void. A reminder of unsaid vows.

Until one day a woman came running with a letter in hand.

It was from Cassian.

You opened it with shaky fingers. It contained three words, but three were enough.

He’ll be back.

It was another day of biting cold as you drew your bowstring, hunting wild turkeys for tonight’s meal. You fired with practiced aim, walking to collect your game. You were barely outside Windhaven, beginning to turn around when you spotted a male in the distance. Eurymachus, no doubt on his way to try his luck again. You scoffed, notching an arrow in your bow, steadying your aim.

You spared no mercy. “Stop where you are,” you commanded, a voice of practiced authority after years of sly men with sly tactics. “Turn around and leave this camp!”

The male slowed, raising both his arms in surrender, but he still stalked forward. “Y/N?”

“Stop where you are, or I’ll shoot!” You fired a warning arrow above his silhouette, notching another.

The male halted at last, lowering his arms. Smoke drifted off them as they lowered.

No, not smoke.

Shadows.

Your bow lowered, every thought eddying from your mind.

Your heartbeat began pulsing in your ear, almost loud enough to block out the faint lilt in the air, a song that played on the wind.

Then that strum in your sternum pulled taut and released.

Your arms went slack.

Azriel Shadowsinger stood before you. His shadows slithered tentatively towards you on the snow, halting before making contact. He looked at your bow, then scanned your face, the bewilderment in it.

“Azriel,” you choked. Azriel. Dropping your weapon, you cried louder, “Azriel!” Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. You began running to him.

Running home.

His eyes fell shut in utter relief, at the sound and sight. They opened again, surveying you with holy reverence.

You halted your running. This time, his name fell in wet whispers. “Azriel.” Azriel. His presence was like a phantom pain.

He walked towards you, that music on the wind a divine witness.

Your knees threatening to buckle. It was really him. Azriel was here. You nearly shook your head in disbelief, watching as he walked closer while your tears silently fell.

Azriel stood in front of you, letting out a deep shuddering exhale in relief. He looked utterly exhausted, but his eyes were bright and entirely fixed on you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you spoke softly, voice shaking. “Come with me. Let’s go home.”

Home.

Azriel fell asleep as soon as you brought him home. You didn’t touch him yet, just walked before him and tried to calm your racing heart. You took him to your room, watched as he took off his bag, his weapons, his coat. You ran to fetch him some water and came back to find him asleep on the bed over the covers. Bringing one of your blankets over him, you watched as he slept.

He was older, the contours of his face deeper. His cheekbones stuck out more prominently, his jaw even sharper. You wondered how far the lines of change also cut within, if that softness was carved out of him in the carnage and killing fields.

You wept silently by his side as he slept, wept for your youth that slipped away in the prison sentence waiting for your Shadowsinger, wept for his youth that barely made a dent in his life. For the years that estranged you, the weight of them crashing down all at once. Wept in relief for the end of it finally arriving, like the lull of sleep claiming people at nightfall.

Finally, you picked yourself up and got to work, preparing a meal for him.

You sat in the living room, doing what you’ve become an expert in over the last near-decade—you waited. The stars came out, and the Shadowsinger came down.

A kernel of youth returned to his face after resting and washing up. He’d changed into a linen shirt and slacks. He still hesitated around you, clearing his throat, standing in your space but not sitting. You rose to meet him halfway. “Did you receive my letters, Azriel?”

He nodded. “I have five. I kept them in the book you gave me. Cassian brought them to me when we were in the same camps, which was not often.”

A beat of silence. “I sent out hundreds.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. He broke your gaze then met it again. “I suspected the High Lord was keeping them from me.” He absentmindedly rubbed against his sternum. The same place you felt that stirring within. His eyes sobered. “Even without… communication, Y/N, you are what kept me sane out there. Kept me from the darkness.”

You thought of the strength you drew from him after your father’s passing. “Me too, Azriel.”

He continued. “I didn’t need written word to know the sound of your laugh. The colour of your eyes.”

The familiar yearning, the shy glances you both exchanged made you feel like your youth was creeping back into you. It was your turn. “You hiding out on the veranda,” you smiled.

A playfulness lit his hazel eyes. “You carrying a tray.” He matched your smile.

“Well, I needed an excuse to see you, didn’t I?” Tears warmed your eyes again. “I waited every day, Azriel. I waited every day for seven years for you. Longing to see your face.” His eyes fell shut, pain etching his handsome features. A longing he knew all too well.

His brows furrowed. “I fear that the time apart isn't the only thing that came between us, Y/N. I fear that the war’s changed me more than I bargained for.” An inhale. “I want only to offer you goodness, but if I had any, I fear that it’s all gone now.”

Your heart stuttered. “Azriel, I wrote to you once that I take you as you are. In sound and silence, and I’ll tell you that again right now. I take you as you are. And I know the goodness isn’t gone because I can feel it.” You traced down your breastbone.

He looked at you in astonishment. “You feel it?”

“Yes. I can feel you, Azriel.”

The edges of his lips tugged up in a smile, his eyes still wide with awe. The muteness for once felt like a sanctuary and not solitude.

After years of unspoken communication, you both acquired fluency in silence. You walked to him, standing before the hearth. The canary inside pulsed, and you sent a pulse back.

“The day we left, I thought my ribs broke from the… ache of leaving you. I felt it in my bones, a cleavage. But the soldiers, when nights were quiet, they whispered of a bond that ran so deep, it overpowered marriage.”

Yes. “I felt it too that day, Azriel.”

He nodded, gaze focused. “They say it’s like a…”

“A snap.”

He took one step closer. “So that makes us—”

“Mates,” you breathed.

Another nod. “Mates.”

Yes. That admiration stayed in his eyes.

Then, his voice softened. “I know we’ve been waiting all this time, Y/N, but… if it’s too much—I don’t want to rush you. The—mating—if you want it, or—” crimson tinted his cheekbones, reminding you of a younger Az— “If you’d want me—as your husband. Whatever you want.”

You mirrored his wide-eyed wonder as his words stripped you to the barest, most base self. To your soul. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything, Azriel. Husband, mate, both, anything. Any capacity I get to have you, I want it.”

He nodded, the embodiment of certainty and truth. “Y/N, I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife as well as my mate.”

You nearly scoffed, but your heart was bursting with joy. “I’ve already vowed myself to you on paper.” Lost in whatever archive or fireplace the High Lord stored your letters. You felt light, felt certain like you’ve never known certainty. You beamed comfortably at him. At your mate. “The war, it’s made certain things feel… trivial. Like a wedding.” You looked away, thinking about it for a moment. The stars were your only witnesses. There were no priestesses to call on, no contracts that could bind you more strongly to each other than the binding you carried in your bones—in your soul.

Returning your gaze to his, you found bountiful patience in his eyes. “You know,” you spoke softly, “where I’m from, there was a culture nearby where all you had to do was say ‘I do’ three times, and it was enough to marry a couple.”

Azriel did not smile. He looked at you with the intensity you missed for seven years. An intensity that meant promise. You were his entire focus, and he did not yield. In a clear voice, he declared, “I do. I do. I do.”

You laughed to keep the tears abated. But you maintained that intense gaze, and breathed, “Azriel. I do, I do, I do, I do, I do I do, I—”

His lips cut you off. He took one stride towards you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

Married.

Just like that, you were married. In your heart—married. He held you to him, and the years apart were nothing. The feel of his hard body—harder than you recalled—was everything right in the world. Safety personified as he held you to him, taking care to be gentle with you. All the unspoken words were heard and felt on your lips. You broke off from his mouth, not seeking to waste a minute longer. “I have… my corset, it’s got so much lacing.”

The bond inside you sang louder than ever. You felt his desire grow, matching yours, strumming on the instrument strung across your chest bones. You turned around, moving your hair out of the way. He rested his warm hands on either side of your waist. He traced them up your back, beginning to gently pull the laces loose, helping you out the corset. Then he pulled apart the ties of your skirts, watching as they pooled at your feet.

You slumped into his body, relishing the reliability, the knowledge that he came back, that he was real. His hands gripped you into him as he began kissing your shoulder. Only your shift separated your body. Turning in his hold, you fisted the hem of his shirt, freeing it from his pants. He yanked it off at the neckline.

His powerful body had packed on even more muscle. He was littered with scars that you ached to trace. Placing your hands on his abdomen, you dragged them upward, trying to permanently etch him into your memory. His chest rapidly rose and fell beneath your fingers. You gazed at him innocently, wanting to remember how his face contorted with pleasure from your touch, from his restraint. His jaw feathered, lips parted, pupils dilated. He bent forward and kissed you again, seizing the opportunity with your craned neck. He was less careful now, pulling you firmer to him. You gasped when a hardness pressed into your stomach. He kissed down your jaw, paying attention to your neck. His kisses were hot, making you gasp and press your legs tighter together.

He reached the juncture of your shoulder, cradling your head to him as he continued his path. Then he pulled the straps of your shift to either side of your shoulders, and let it pool at your feet with the rest of your clothes.

He stepped back, looking down your form with a fervour that made you begin shaking. “You’re beautiful,” he rasped. He pulled you to him by the waist, bending to kiss your throat. Then down your chest, kissing over the bond. He slowly sank to his knees, your hands braced on his shoulders, watching as he continued his path downward. His hands slid down your form, cradling your hips, your thighs.

“I used to think of your little hands,” he said, voice guttural. “Your waist. The way you felt under my hands.”

You ran your hands through his hair, carding your fingernails over his scalp. He groaned, resting his head against your hip as you did.

“Your hands, Azriel. The way you held me. No one’s ever touched me like that before,” you exhaled, sinking to your knees, seeking to kiss him again. At his level, he kissed you so deeply that you began tilting backward. He guided you to the floor, admiring how you looked in the glow of the hearth.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he ground out. He didn’t break your gaze, even as he reached for one of your breasts. Your back arched, writhing when he thumbed your peaked nipple. When your writhing caused your legs to part, he snaked a hand between your thighs, feeling up the creamy skin til he found what he was seeking.

You inhaled sharply as his fingers spread through your wetness, easing some of the aching pressure. You couldn’t help but moan, helpless under his skilled hands as he continued to massage your apex. Then he eased a finger into your entrance, stroking in and out of you. Your head spun, brows pinching together at the euphoria. He studied you closely, your contorting features, how you moved against his hands. He bent down, kissing you, swallowing your moans as you were pulled closer to a precipice. He eased another finger inside, stretching you open as you squirmed. “That’s it,” he spoke breathlessly into your mouth. Then he curled his fingers inside you and you shattered. The climax tore through you, back arching and limbs trembling. He pulled back to watch you fall apart.

When your heaving lessened and you could open your eyes again, he kissed you. You pulled him down by the neck, wanting more of him. He moved from your side to situate himself between your open thighs, bending to rest his weight on his forearms on either side of your head. His body rested over yours. You gasped at the hardness of him pressing at the apex of your thighs. As he kissed you, you reached for the hem of his pants, fussing with them until he helped you remove them.

Utterly bare. He cushioned his length against your wetness, grinding into you while he kissed you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him wider access, urging him on. He finally reached down and guided himself into you.

Your breathless writhing halted. You stared wide-eyed as he pushed the first inch into you, an uncomfortable stretch. He shuddered, jaw clenched as he restrained himself from entering further. His eyes were locked on yours, noting the rigidness, how you held your breath. “Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he spoke tenderly despite the tension in his body.

You inhaled, trying to relax. He kissed you, softly this time. His tongue teased into your mouth, working against yours. When he groaned into your mouth, you relaxed, sighing contently. He continued to kiss you, and when he tried to pull away, you chased him, wanting more. He carefully pushed his length further into you, pausing again. He zeroed in on every reaction you made to his ministrations. He continued to breathe hard, controlling himself despite the pleasure flooding him, despite the urge to sheathe himself. He bit your bottom lip, and the friction of his hard chest against yours made you involuntarily roll your hips further onto his length.

His breath hitched as you tested his endurance. His thorough carefulness heightened your need for him. With the heels of your feet, you began pressing him further into you. He exhaled in relief but tried resisting. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I want it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed.

“You aren’t,” you lied.

He shook his head, words failing him in the wake of your tightness.

“Please,” you exhaled.

He studied you before moving his fingers to your clitoris, thumbing at it slowly. You gasped, instinctively rolling further onto him. He continued to sheath himself while his thumb rubbed against you until he bottomed out. He kissed you, holding himself in place. With him fully inside you, there was no space between your bodies. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him impossibly tighter to you, moaning into his mouth.

When you rolled your hips beneath his, he started to move, pulling back an inch and thrusting back in, working you through the movements. Pleasure overpowered any stinging discomfort as he moved inside you, stroking against spots that made your toes curl. Your back began arching on its own accord as you chased the feeling, holding him like he was going to leave again. His head fell into the crook of your neck, breathing hard against the tight pull of your entrance, how he glided with ease.

That build-up began churning in you again as he sped up his motions. You could hardly breathe, couldn’t think. Beginning, middle, and end—all things were Azriel, Azriel, Azriel. As he moved in you, you could’ve sworn your souls were dancing together, the bond between you one entity that thrummed with life. Your thighs shook from the unbearable pleasure, your head thrown back on the floor. He kissed your neck, pumping into you while your legs tightened around his waist. His audible panting was an erotic rhythm, and when he angled his hips forward on his thrusts, he hit a spot within you that sent you into another spiraling release. You clawed at his back as he continued to move inside you through your climax until you felt a warm wetness release into you, and his hips finally ebbed.

He remained tucked inside, resting his body on yours as you rubbed soothing strokes down his back. Your breathing calmed, heartrates slowing. He released himself from you, making you gasp at the sudden loss. He pulled the throw blanket on the couch, draped it over you, and lay back beside you over the animal skin on the ground. You immediately wrapped yourself into his open arms, laying your head on his chest and bringing the blanket over him as well. He held you to him, kissing your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He continued to stroke your hair, the side of your neck, your back, murmuring softly into your hair as you fought off the lull of sleep. It wasn’t until you felt a distinct sensation of contentment in your chest that you drifted off, to the sound of his voice caressing you. “I’ll be your family. You’ll be my family. And this can be our home.”

You wanted to tell him that he was your home, but the peace he brought you overpowered you, dragging you to sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, you waited for the subdued dread to wash over you as it always did, but all you felt was a warmth in your chest cavity. You arose, taking in the space around you that’s never felt like home as it did now. You spotted your husband in the kitchen, quietly pacing as he heated the food you made the night before.

When his shadows wafted around you, he came to see you. A smile graced his beautiful face as he crouched before you to kiss your temple, muttering a greeting. You reached for your shift, dressing yourself and joining him in the kitchen.

“We forgot to eat last night,” you said.

“We’ll have it right now,” he smiled easily, taking his seat at the table where he’d warmed everything again. Turkey stew. He’s also managed to find some pastries and coffee. You began eating your fill, famished after the strenuous activities the night before. Azriel did not eat, prompting you to pause.

At your questioning gaze, he spoke. “If I eat this meal, that officiates our mating bond.”

Though your heart raced at the notion, you just smiled. “What are you waiting for, then?”

Azriel relaxed, returning your smile, the crinkles by his eyes deepening. You watched as he took a bite of your stew, watched as he ate his entire share. When he set his plate down, exhaling, the glint in his eyes made your flutter. The strum in your chest now felt like an open channel. You pushed an experimental feeling through it. Adoration. He sent it back, and you felt it course through your skin. He beckoned you over, sliding his chair back to make space for you. You padded over, sitting on the table before him. He kissed you, the restrain he’d shown last night a foreign concept. As you pulled him to you by the neck, fisting his hair in your fingers—

There was a knock on the door, halting your actions. You reluctantly pulled away, laughing at the glassy look in his eyes as he forced himself to let you go.

You opened the door, gasping and swinging it wide open at the sight of Lady Rhiannon. You threw yourself into her arms; she laughed, catching you and embracing you. You felt a warm, solid body press into your back as Azriel joined your embrace, wrapping his massive arms around the both of you. “Azriel,” she breathed, and you felt her tears wet the side of your neck as she beheld her adoptive son.

When you pulled away, you wiped her tears like she’d wiped yours countless times. “The boys are at my house. They’re home. That’s all I wanted to say,” she spoke joyfully. The two of you had made it to the end of your own battle. You nodded, promising to be right over as she turned on her heel and made her way back to her awaiting sons.

When you closed the door behind you, Azriel stepped back out of your reach. “We just confirmed our mating bond. If you want to go see the boys, we’ll have to be quick, before the frenzy.” He took another step back, his nostrils flaring, eyes screwing shut like your scent was an aphrodisiac beyond his endurance.

You laughed. Walking over to your pile of clothes leftover from the night before. “I’ll be quick,” you said, yanking on your skirt, pulling your corset over your head, lacing it tight. When you glanced at Azriel, the look of utter and complete desire in his eyes made you laugh again. His hands were fisted at his sides, and he was breathing deeply as he tried to school himself.

“I’ll walk over first, then you can make your way over. If that helps,” you offered.

“Okay,” he said, huffing a laugh at the nature of the situation.

You strapped on your bow and arrow, then blew him a teasing kiss goodbye at the door, laughing as he groaned dramatically. You walked as fast as you could to Rhiannon’s house.

Turning a corner, your bubble of contentment burst when you spotted Lady Rhiannon stopped near her house by a male on a horse. It was Eurymachus.

You walked over, notching an arrow on your bow. “How many times have I told you to leave this camp, Eurymachus?” you said.

His attention slid to you. “Looks like all your waiting was for nothing, Y/N. I see your little lover never made it back from the war. I told you you were waiting on a ghost,” he sneered.

You saw the door to Rhiannon’s house open, but you kept your eyes trained on Eurymachus. Cassian stepped out, sword in hand. “I suggest you heed the Lady’s warning before the High Lord returns.”

Eurymachus jumped, turning abruptly to face Cass, then turned to face you again, disgust on his face. “Are you his female as well? You rejected me for a band of bastard scum?”

“Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“I don’t take orders from whores.”

Cassian threw a dagger and it found its mark in his thigh. He yelped, swinging his sword, dismounting off his horse as it reared. Eurymachus reached for a dagger and threw it clumsily at Cassian. It missed its mark, nicking Rhiannon’s arm. Cassian advanced and they clashed weapons; you gasped, dropping your bow and arrow and ran to the Lady to check on her. Cassian knocked Eurymachus out with a sword to the back of his head, turning to join you at the Lady’s side.

Cassian helped her up with you, but before you could take her into the house, a pit of dread uncoiled itself deep in your gut. You halted, the breath leaving you suddenly. Cassian spotted your wide-eyed stare. “What?” he demanded, searching the surroundings for a threat.

He moved stealthily, so it wasn’t his footfalls that gave him away. But when you instinctively looked back, you spotted Azriel walking toward the scene, a look of calm rage on his face as he took it in. Before you could utter a word, Eurymachus rose from his spot, scrambled for your bow, and shot Azriel.

A ringing noise rose above everything else in the world. Rhiannon’s mouth parted as she screamed, but no sound reached you. Cassian scrambled to reach his brother, but you didn’t hear that either. You also didn’t feel the ground as it suddenly found your body, as the snow wetted your hands.

And worst of all, you couldn’t feel him anymore.

A mockery of the words that were said just hours before. Hours.

The bond in your chest flickering like a dying light.

The arrow jutted out of Azriel’s chest. He sank slowly to his knees, staring wide-eyed. Large, warm hands were the first thing you felt, and you turned in confusion as you felt a body behind yours. Purple eyes swimming with anguish met your own. Rhysand winnowed you closer to him. To your fallen Shadowsinger.

When the world rematerialized, so did your sensations. Rhiannon sobbed, Cassian demanding that Azriel stay awake, Rhysand’s laboured breathing. Cassian turned slay Eurymachus. Rhysand let go of your arms and instead grasped his mother’s gently pulling her away from Azriel who lay on his back.

You knelt beside him, your hands trembling. “No,” you breathed. This couldn’t be real. “No, Az. Please no.” You shuddered as you tried to breathe, to think— “Please don’t go. You just came back.”

You brought your shaking hands to cup his face. Blood was trickling out of his mouth with every breath, quiet agony in his eyes as he tried to wheeze around the arrow in his heart.

“You can’t leave again,” you sobbed. “You’re my home,” you whispered. You leaned over him, resting your mouth on his, crying onto his lips.

Your chest flickered once as Azriel heaved in a final breath. “I love you, Y/N.”

You pressed your lips to his, willing every ounce of love, devotion, yearning, and want down the bond as it slipped through your bones. Azriel’s eyes shut, peace overtaking his features at that last sensation, as your heart utterly shattered. You willed the bond back with all your might, but there was nothing.

You remained there, broken in half, crying over him until warm hands soothed down your back until Rhys picked you up gently off his brother and took you inside the house.

There was no more music in the world. Only vague noises, mutterings of We’ll take care of you, Y/N, don’t worry, and it’s gonna be okay darling, I’m here. All you could process was the stillness inside.

After all that time with your heart stretched across space and time, you found yourself once again, waiting on a ghost.

Two years later

Your friends gathered on a balcony. Soon after Azriel’s funeral, you’d all needed to leave Windhaven, needed to get away from the reminders of his life, of the catastrophe of his loss.

Once again, you’d given away your belongings and found yourself moving, enduring the uprooting that had nothing to do with a physical structure.

It’d taken months for you to speak again. This time there’d been no strum in your chest to help. No hope to be found, because it was too small to make a dent inside you. Until it eventually grew strong enough to be felt.

Your new family helped you. When you finally broke your silent vigil, you’d told them what he was to you. How your bond had snapped into place, how it’d taken seven long years to see through to your mating.

How you’d decreed your wedding in a cottage living room with only the Mother to see.

They’d cried tears of joy and tears of pain at the revelation, at the knowledge that Azriel had found his other half before shattering your heart and leaving you again.

Time went back to being measured through the passage of pain. That first year, you’d missed solstice, missed all celebrations, only enduring what you needed to survive. Not for yourself, but for him.

The hope that he left behind, because even in his absence, Azriel always left an inkling of life inside you, whether it was the strum of an early bond, or a kick against the inside of a womb.

It was Starfall, and the boy that clung to you was now just over a year old.

Your son.

Arion.

He inherited his father’s hazel eyes, his raven hair. He even looked at you with a certain focus that made you want to weep. His name came from an older Illyrian dialect that meant melodious song. Named after the music your bond carried on the wind.

Music that spoke when your lover was rendered silent. Music you only heard in dreams now.

Your son fussed on your hip, anxious to see the brilliance his uncles promised would light the sky. Your family gathered around you in support, in grief and love. When the stars began falling, you held your breath, feeling hints of hope creeping up on you, the feeling both foreign and familiar. “See, Ari?” you asked. “Like Uncle Cass said. Falling stars.”

The boy’s eyes were wide with wonder. He was your medicine, your healing salve. His uncles shuffled closer, supportive hands around your frame as you all hoped for a visit.

Spirits of the fallen Illyrians, their comrades shooting across the sky in death like they did in life.

A celestial body arched close by, stealing your breath away. Like a phantom pain, you felt a rattling in your chest cavity; the ghost of a strum. Rattled by a star while your baby reached forward trying to catch it.

Sapphire starlight freckled Ari’s face, and with the tears distorting your vision, you looked at your son and he looked just like him. The blue glow reflecting in his hazel eyes like the glow of siphons on a Shadowsinger. You released a strained laugh, or perhaps it was a sob, and Ari beamed.

“That was your daddy,” you whispered to your son, smiling through your tears. Ari’s eyes widened further, turning back to watch the stars.

You quietly wept, clutching Ari tighter to you, sending your last farewell to your husband, your mate, your friend down where the bond used to be. I’ll wait for you, you vowed. Waiting on your ghost, in this life until you got to see him again in the next.

Live for the ghost. Live for Az. For Ari.

“Happy Starfall, Ari,” you breathed, smiling at your little musician, the living embodiment of your bond. Then, to your beloved, you sent out to the stars—

Happy Starfall, Azriel. I love you. I do, I do, I do.

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel smut #azriel fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #this hurt so fkn bad y'all. not me crying over my own writing. stand up

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babybluebex · 11 months

Text

long lost love: after | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part two of two! eight years after you break up with joseph, you reunite with him, and you grapple with the decision of if you want to get back with him and become a household name like him, or if you want to lose him again. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: accusations of infidelity, lovesick joey, wes makes several appearances AGAIN, mentions of smut (but no actual smut lol sorry), brief mention of vomit author's note: thank you for your patience with this fic! i don't deserve y'all, and i love y'all so much!! thanks for reading this fic, and i hope you enjoy the end!

“Oh my god, babe,” your coworker started, leaning over to wipe down a table. She was young, a girl named Anna that was still in uni, and you liked her a lot, enough that you called her your work-sister. Yes, you were doing what you had to do; roles had washed up, and you needed to pay the bills somehow, so you were waiting tables at a little restaurant in the heart of London. It was a hellish job and you hated it, but you had no other choice.

After your short stint on the sitcom right out of LAMDA, you had auditioned and sent in tape after tape, but nothing really came to fruition. You weren’t as lucky as other people were, and you sometimes thought about going to uni proper so that you could get a meaningful degree and get a real job and give up on the whole acting thing, but you couldn’t possibly do that to yourself. Your pride was too strong and, after Joe, you were determined not to sabotage your own life again. You didn’t date, and you continued to send in tapes. “You’ll never guess who just walked in.”

“Is it Kate and William?” you chuckled, wiping the bread crumbs from your own table. “No, wait— It’s Meg and Harry.”

“No,” Anna laughed. “Do you watch Stranger Things?”

You shrugged. “I mean, I watched the first season,” you said. “I know the fourth one just came out.”

“Yeah, well, Steve and Eddie from Stranger Things just walked in,” Anna said. She could barely contain her excitement, and you rolled your eyes as you laughed. “Will you take that table from me? I can’t serve them, I’m too nervous.”

“Sure,” you said; it was a slow lunch hour, and a table meant money. Especially if these guys were on a Netflix show. “But you’re taking my next table that comes in.”

“Deal,” Anna said.

You smiled at her as you tightened your apron around your middle, and you approached the only filled table in the whole place. Two men occupied it, one facing you and the other facing away. The one facing you, you recognized— He was Steve, you remembered from when you watched the first season. With his head of good hair, it was impossible to mistake him, but you had no idea what his name was. The other guy— well, you couldn’t make him out too well, not from the back of his head. “Hi there, gents,” you welcomed them, smiling first at “Steve” and then turning your attention to the other man. “Welcome to—“

You dropped your pen, your breath sticking in your chest. Joseph. It was Joseph. He looked equally as shocked to see you, dark eyes big and wide, his cheeks pale, and tears started to well in your eyes. “Oh my God,” you whispered. You couldn’t breathe, your heart ramming inside your chest. It was actually him. He was here.

“I actually get that a lot,” “Steve” laughed.

“Oh my… Wow,” Joseph said, a grin crossing his face. “H-How are you, how have you been?”

“I’m fine,” you told Joseph, and he stood up to envelop you in a hug. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him back, hand on the nape of his neck, appreciating how eight years could change a person. He smelled different, felt different against your body, he even seemed to carry himself differently. His hair looked darker, he had a bit of stubble on his chin, he had small wrinkles next to his eyes— but he still had his beautiful brown eyes, the same ones that had drawn you in, back all those years ago. “I’ve been fine, how are you?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Joseph said with a breathy chuckle. “It’s been— What? Eight years? Time flies, huh?”

“Definitely,” you agreed. You couldn’t believe it. Right in front of you was your biggest regret, smiling at you and staring you in the face, and you could only manage to be cordial. You wanted to be childish, to break down at his feet and beg for him to take you back, but all you managed to say was, “Sorry for not keeping in touch.”

“Oh, it’s—” Joseph said, and he dismissively waved his hand around.”Right after Dickensian happened, I had to change my phone number, so it’s probably my fault.”

“Crazed fan?” you asked and laughed, and Joseph pulled a face, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he gnawed on his lip.

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “Here, actually, I’ve had to change my number again since Stranger Things aired, let me give you my new number.”

“You’re blowing through phone numbers,” you chuckled. “That many crazed fans?”

“Well, this time I changed it because my old number was linked to my Hinge account,” Joseph said with an embarrassed flush in his cheeks, and your heart skipped. Had he been using dating apps? Jesus, even the thought made you ill. You hadn’t dated anybody since him, and you wondered how prolific he had been in the wake of his success, but then you stopped that line of thought. It was your fault he was single in the first place. “And I didn’t want people to find that account so… I changed it.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Yeah, I don’t have my phone on me right now— against the rules— so just, umm—”

“Give me your number,” Joseph said quickly. “I’ll text you instead.” He gave you a crooked smile, the same crooked smile that he had given you that first day, when he still had his braces on, and it made your heart melt. You were a little glad that the onus was on Joseph to contact you instead of the other way around; you never would have texted him, too afraid of messing everything up again. “I’m not in London for very much longer, but maybe we could grab a drink before I head to Santa Monica.”

“Yeah, for sure,” you said. Joseph handed you his phone, open to a new contact card, and you quickly typed in your name and number, then hesitated before adding a small heart after your name. That would tell him what he needed to know without actually saying it, you hoped. “I’d like that a lot. Oh, how’s Wes?”

“Wes is doing good,” Joseph told you, pocketing his phone swiftly. “He and Liam got married a few years ago, in 2018.”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Oh, good for them! I remember Wes telling me all about how he thought Liam was ‘the one’ when they first started dating.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joseph laughed. “They’re still obsessed with each other, it makes me sick.”

“They always were a little into PDA,” you smiled, reminiscing on movie nights with the pair. “But they were cute.”

“You know…” Joseph started. “I was going to grab drinks with Wes tonight, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you joined. He was just talking about you the other day, wondering what was going on and everything.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “I’d actually love that, I’ve been wondering how he is too. I haven’t been able to find him on social media. Or you either, for that matter.”

“Yeah, I had Twitter for a bit, but I gave up on it,” Joseph admitted. “I just… I don’t know, I think I’m too old for that sorta stuff. I don’t know how it works or anything; I have an Instagram but my mate runs it for me, and only because Netflix basically forced me to get it. I don’t even know the password to it.” He laughed, and so did you, and you caught “Steve” out of the corner of your eye, suddenly remembering that he was there too. “Oh, fuck, sorry, where are my manners? Y/N, this is Joe Keery, he plays Steve. Joe, this is Y/N, she’s my… Well, it’s a long story, but we went to LAMDA together.”

Wow. What a way to simplify your relationship. Although, you suppose it was easier than explaining “We used to date and then she broke up with me because she thought I cheated, which I didn’t, but she knows that now”. Long story, indeed. “We were pretty much best mates,” you added. “But after we graduated, we just… Drifted apart.”

“What a shame too,” Joseph mumbled, then, before you could react, added, “I’ll text you about tonight, yeah? Time and place and all.”

“Alright,” you said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You ended up introducing Anna to Joe and Joseph, telling her that they were good people and would tip her well, and you excused yourself to the server alley. Your hands were shaking as you sat down on a cardboard box and buried your head in your hands, and you tried to control your breathing. Joseph. No longer was he the awkward, blond, braces-and-glasses thing that he had been— he had matured nicely, luckily seemingly keeping his sense of humor that you adored, and you sniffled as you extracted your phone. You saw a text from an unknown number that just said “Joey” with a heart, and you frowned it away as you went to Instagram and typed in his name. Sure enough, his account was the first one to pop up, only one post so far, of a heavily made-up Joseph. He wore a long wig, giving the camera his best Blue Steel look, looking more serious and deadly than you had ever seen him before. Apparently, according to Anna, this was Eddie.

Before you could do any more research into Eddie or Joseph, a new text came through from the same unknown number, Joey’s number. Wes and I are meeting at Soho House at 8 o’clock, he texted. I’ll be there a few minutes early, to make sure that you can get in.

You had heard of the exclusive Soho House before, although you had never been in it, and your heart skipped. Joseph had definitely moved up in the world. Cool, you answered back. I can’t wait.

Wes says he’s excited to see you, Joseph told you. It’s been a while, huh?

Yeah, for sure, you answered. And you stopped, debating what to say next. Should you apologize? Would he even know what you were apologizing for? Maybe you should wait to apologize and explain yourself in person. But Wes would be there, you wouldn’t be able to say exactly what you wanted. You wished that you could be alone with Joseph and talk, but you would take drinks. You would take anything that he decided to give you.

You went home after your shift and instantly started to fret as you got dressed. Would it be awkward? Would you even enjoy the drinks with your old lover and friend? Or was tonight bound to be a disaster? You decided to try to look at it with as much positivity as you could— if he was inviting you out for drinks, he couldn’t hate you that much, right? Maybe he had forgiven you. Maybe he was still in love with you.

No. Put that thought away. He was not in love with you. He had been dating since you, and probably had had girlfriends since you. He probably had a girlfriend now. He was the ultimate full package, kind and thoughtful and smart and funny and handsome and interesting, he was everything, girls should swoon over him. He should be absolutely rolling in women; there was no way that he still had feelings for you.

When you arrived at Soho House, you saw him sitting outside instantly. He was looking as handsome as ever, smoking a cigarette and sipping on a drink in a short tumbler, and he took your breath away in a brown suit. God, had he grown even more handsome in your years apart? It didn’t feel real. “Joe!” you grinned as you approached him, and he smiled back at you, putting his cigarette out in an ashtray.

“Hello!” he crooned, opening his arms for you. In an instant, almost as if you were drawn magnetically, you fell into his arms, hugging him tightly and pressing your head into his neck to smell his warm and earthy cologne. Joseph rubbed your back as he hugged you, just the same way he always used to, and, when you pulled away from the hug, Joseph gave you a warm, blushed smile. “Well, darling, you look stunning.”

“Thank you,” you laughed breathlessly. “Says you! You— Fuck, you grew up! You look so good!”

“Aw, well,” Joseph shrugged bashfully, tugging at the thin silver chain around his neck. “I mean, a lot can change in eight years.”

“True,” you said. “But… A lot can stay the same… I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Joseph asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I…” you started. “For… You know what for. Don’t make me say it. It was humiliating enough the first time around.”

“Let’s not have this talk here,” Joseph said softly. “Just come home with me later, we can talk there.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Can I just ask one thing?” Joseph nodded, and you carefully took his hands in yours, pressing your palms against his. You were scared to even ask, knowing that he would reject you, but you kept your resolve. “I know I hurt you. I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but… Please, if there’s any part of you that doesn’t hate me, just tell me. You are the best thing I’ve ever had in my life and I ruined it, and—”

Before you could say more, Joseph leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. It was quick, you could hardly call it a kiss, but your heart pounded in your chest like it did with your first kiss with Joe, all those years ago. You sighed and laced your fingers with Joe’s as he broke the kiss, and you started, “Does that mean—”

“Yes,” Joe whispered. “I never stopped loving you, sweetheart. You hurt me, but I never let you go.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “Good. Umm… Let’s go. Is Wes inside?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “He won’t stop talking about you.” With a hand on your back, he led you inside the exclusive club. You felt lightheaded even walking beside him again, and you couldn’t help the grin that covered your face when you saw Wes. He looked exactly the same, and you hugged him tightly. Wes’s arms were just as tight around you as he laughed, and he said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Sorry.”

Joe helped you sit down on one of the tall stools, his hand still on your back, and he kissed your hair as he mumbled something about going to the restroom, and he slipped away as Wes showed you his hand and the gleaming silver band. “Liam and I got hitched,” Wes smiled as you squealed in excitement.

“Oh, Wes, I’m so happy for you!” you told him.

Wes hesitated for a second, looking over his shoulder at Joe retreating as he showed restraint that you didn’t remember him having, and he finally said, “Joe will never tell you, but you really did a number on him.”

“I know I did,” you cringed.

“No, like,” Wes started. “He was going to ask you to marry him. He had the ring in his sock drawer and everything. When you broke up with him, I came home to find him on the floor, sobbing. He cried so hard he threw up. He was inconsolable for weeks. Didn’t do anything other than go to work and lay in bed. He was depressed, love. I thought he’d be like that forever.”

A ring. Marriage. The thought that you had ruined that made you sick. You rubbed the hem of your shirt between your fingers as you nodded at your lap, and you mumbled, “What got him out of that?”

“Honestly?” Wes asked. “I don’t think he ever got out of it. I think working helps him, but he didn’t figure that out for a while. He did Dickensian, then didn’t work again for, like, a year, and he got really bad. He still really only works and goes home. I had to twist his arm to even get him to agree to this. ”

“Is it really your place to be telling me this?” you asked, halfway-jokingly, and Wes smiled.

“It’s definitely not,” Wes said humorlessly. “But you deserve to know how he reacted when you broke up with him. It ruined him. He deserves better than that, and if you’re going to hurt him again, then don’t even bother.”

“What makes you think that we’re gonna get back together?” you asked. “He wants nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not what that kiss outside said,” Wes shrugged. “Just… Don’t let him down. Like I said, he’s been hurt enough by you.”

You felt thoroughly shaken by that, but you nodded and righted yourself as Joe came back to the table, resting his hand on your shoulder. “What do you want to drink?” he asked. “I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, umm,” you started. “I can get it. Sit down, visit with Wes, I’ll be right back…” Quickly, before he could ask questions, you stood up and made your way to the bar. You needed a second alone to absorb everything Wes had just told you, but Joe had his own idea, taking the back of your shirt in a gentle grip and following you to the bar.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Joe said firmly.

“Nothing,” you told him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Did Wes say something?” Joe asked.

“No,” you insisted. “I just… This was a bad idea, all of this was a terrible… I’m going home.”

“No, wait,” Joe said quickly. “Talk to me, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not your darling,” you said quickly, edging past him towards the door. “Not anymore, I fucked that up so long ago—”

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Joe told you, following you once again, out onto the street.

“We could have been married by now, Joe!” you exclaimed. “We could’ve had kids by now! We could have had entirely different lives, the lives we always wanted, if it weren’t for me and-and my— I was an idiot, I was stupid and I thought I saw the signs and—”

“Hey, easy,” Joe said softly, shushing you as he pulled you into his arms. “You’re right, our lives could be completely different, but you weren’t the only one in the breakup. I could have tried to explain myself, I could have done a million things to keep you, but I didn’t, and I’ve fucking regretted it every day since then. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and, if I could, I’d snap my fingers and have everything change, but I can’t do that. All I can do is beg you, please, come back to me.”

“But I did so wrong by you,” you whimpered. “Why do you still want me?”

“Because I love you,” Joe told you. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and every morning, I wake up without you next to me and it fucking hurts. I want this to stop hurting. Please.” His eyes were big and wet, pleading and begging with every inch of himself, and you sniffled as you pressed your hand to his cheek.

“Joey,” you said on shaky breaths. “I want you back too, but I can’t… I’ll just hurt you again.”

“How are you sure?” Joe asked. “You don’t know that. Maybe we needed the few years apart to find ourselves, so when we came back together, we’d be more mature and… Darling, please. What do you need me to do? Get on my knees? I’ll do whatever you need me to. I just need you back in my life, please.”

“Baby, please,” you sighed. “Stop begging. I’m… It’s such a terrible idea. How the actual fuck are we supposed to go back to being together like nothing happened? I’ll always feel guilty about the things I did to you.”

“But you don’t need to be,” Joe said. “You made the best decision you could have with the information you had. If I had the same evidence, I would have done the same. My girl, please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as your tears fell, and you mumbled, “Everything in me is telling me not to do this, but… I’ll do it. Maybe we can do a trial run, a few weeks together casually, and if that works, we can… We can be together fully.”

“I’ll take it,” Joe said quickly. He nodded quickly, putting his hands on your waist, and he said, “I leave London the day after tomorrow for the MTV Awards, but-but, yes, a trial run would be amazing.”

“MTV?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “Were you nominated for something?”

“Well, no,” Joe started. “But me and a few other guys from Stranger Things are presenting an award.”

“My famous actor,” you chuckled lightly, knocking his chin playfully with your knuckle, and Joe flushed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Joe said softly. “I’ve always dreamed of hearing you say that.”

The rest of the night went by better than you expected. Joe convinced you to go back inside Soho House with Wes, and the three of you threw back drinks and laughed like old times. It felt like no time had passed, all of the same old jokes coming back to you and making you laugh as hard as the first time, all of the “Remember when Joe…” or “Do you still…”, and Joe’s hand rested on your thigh all night, inching further and further up as the night went on. Eventually, as his thumb rubbed your inner thigh about half past eleven, you sighed and put down your glass. “Well, gents,” you said. “This has been just lovely, but I need to get going. I open at work tomorrow, which means I’ve gotta wake up early.”

“No!” Wes sighed. “Don’t leave!”

“I have to!” you giggled, pulling your purse around your body. “Bye, Wessy, it was so nice to see you!”

“Wait,” Wes said, standing up and drawing you into a tight hug. You smiled into his shoulder as he embraced you, and, when he pulled away, he said, “Okay, now you can go.”

“Alright,” you chuckled. Then, you turned to Joe, unsure of how to depart, and he stood up too.

“I’ll walk you outside,” Joe said. “Have to make sure my woman gets home safe.”

“Your woman?” you scoffed.

“Won’t have anyone touch my woman,” Joe mumbled, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the seat and tossing it over his shoulders. You smiled as he put a hand on your back and led you outside, the city bustling now, and, once you were outside, you hugged Joe tightly, hand on the nape of his neck.

“Thank you, Joey,” you said. “Maybe we can see each other again before you leave for Santa Monica.”

“Come home with me,” Joe said quickly. “Please?”

“Cheeky bloke,” you grinned. “S’that all you want from me? Just a little fuck?”

“No!” Joe huffed. “I mean, yes. I mean…” He laughed a little, and he said, “Are you drunk?”

“A little,” you admitted.

“Me too,” Joe cringed. “This is a terrible idea, isn’t it? I should let you go home and go to work tomorrow, and we can save this for when I come back.”

“Or,” you started, then lowered your voice, tangling your finger in the silver chain around his neck. “You can take me home, we don’t fuck, but we can do all of that other stuff anyway.”

“I could do with a cuddle or two,” Joe mumbled, rubbing his jaw with his hand, jokingly thoughtful. “But you have work tomorrow.”

“So I’ll call in sick,” you said. “We can spend all day together tomorrow, catching up and everything.”

“That sounds tempting,” Joe said. “Can we fuck tomorrow, when we’re both sober?”

“Yes,” you told him. “Now, call a cab, and take me home.”

It was the same flat that Joe and Wes used to live in. You still remembered your way around and all of the motions you used to go through, setting your purse on the dining table and toeing off your shoes at the door— it even smelled the same as it used to, laundry soap and cigarettes, and you giggled as Joe led you into his bedroom. The things in it had changed, a different bed frame and different photographs and different curtains, but the bed felt the same as you laid on your back, looking up at the same ceiling that you used to. Everything was so different, but so similar, and you watched as Joe shrugged out of his suit jacket and let it crumple to the floor as he went for his belt. At least that hadn’t changed. Your messy little Joey.

“Joey?” you whispered, and Joe looked at you with big eyes, waiting for you to say more. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you had never stopped loving him, that you would always love him, but all that came out was, “You said something about cuddles?”

“I did,” Joe said softly. “Let me get undressed, love.”

You sat up and moved over to meet him by the closet door, and you nudged his hands away in favor of your own hands undoing his belt. “Let me…” you mumbled, feeling the buckle loosen, and it fell away in an instant. Joe sighed, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, and he pressed his lips to your forehead as you tugged his belt out of the loops.

“I missed you,” Joe whispered, and you frowned.

“I’m so sorry, Joey,” you told him. “I was so stupid, I should have just listened to you.”

“It’s okay,” Joe told you. “At least you came back to me.”

“I love you,” you whispered, and Joe smoothed down your hair gently.

“I love you so much,” Joe mumbled. His hand fell from your hair and went to the bottom of your shirt, and he tugged it up and off. You undressed each other with gentle love, stealing kisses and stepping back towards the bed, and you cuddled close into Joe’s warm chest as he laid down next to you. He was left only in his boxers, you in your panties, and his arm went around you, squeezing you for a moment. “Oh, my girl… I never thought I’d get to hold you again.”

“I’m right here,” you told him, gently kissing his chest. “I’ll never leave again.”

The night passed with comfort, bundled up in Joe’s safe arms. He fell asleep quickly, just like he always used to, and you slept well in his grip. You only woke up at around 7 in the morning, with your phone going off across the room, and you groaned and wiped sleepily at your eyes. Joe was still holding you in a death grip in his sleep, and you pried yourself out of his arms and carefully crossed the room to retrieve your buzzing phone. Your mum was calling. Oh God.

You slipped out of the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind you, before you answered the phone. “Hey, Mum,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was cold, especially with your level of undress, and you went to the small laundry room to try to find a shirt or something. “Why’re you calling me so early?”

“I was looking at the news as I had my coffee,” your mum began, and you flipped up a t-shirt that was sitting in the dryer. It smelled clean, like Joe, and unwrinkled, and you slipped it up over your head as your mum spoke. “And I saw an interesting article.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked absently.

“Yes,” your mum said. “It was a series of pictures of you and that Joseph boy on the street, snogging away without a care in the world.”

“What?” you said sharply. “Where did you see this? Send it to me! There’s a news article about us?”

“I thought that you and Joseph broke up years ago,” your mum said. You were fully awake now, setting her on speakerphone as you went to Google and searched up Joseph’s name. Just as your mother said, there was a news article, some ratty gossip mag, your picture splayed across the front of the website: WHO IS STRANGER THINGS’S EDDIE DATING? It was a paparazzi picture from last night, of you and Joseph at nightfall, kissing and smiling, and your heart fell deep into your stomach. “Are you back together?”

“Umm, it’s complicated,” you answered. You could hardly even register the hangover in your skull with the rapid panic of your heartbeat, and you went back into the bedroom to find Joe now awake, squinting as he looked at his phone screen without his contacts in. “Kinda? It-It’s hard to explain.”

“Did you see—” Joe started to ask, and you frowned as you nodded. “Shit, darling, I didn’t think—”

“Well, explain it,” your mum told you. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You sighed. “Joe and I are back together,” you said. “But he’s leaving the country tomorrow and won’t be back for a while, so it’s a lot more… Casual, than I think either of us want it to be.”

“But I thought he cheated on you?” your mum asked.

“I can call my publicist and see what we can do about getting this removed,” Joe started. “Do you want me to do that?”

You felt sick. Everyone talking to you at once, the upset in your chest, an odd feeling of betrayal— it was too much. “Joe, stop, please,” you said quickly. “No, Mum, Joe didn’t cheat on me. I thought he did, but he didn’t. I-I have to go and sort this out, I’m sorry. Bye.” You hung up the phone and sighed, and you sank down onto the bed and covered your face with your hands.

“Darling?” Joe asked. “What can I do?”

“I didn’t even think that there would be paparazzi,” you admitted. “I’m so stupid, of course there were paparazzi around…”

“Stop, love, don’t do that,” Joe said quickly. “I should have warned you that it was a possibility. I didn’t think about how… I’m still getting used to being a celebrity, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, God,” you mumbled. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. This might be more than I’m cut out for.”

“No, what?” Joe asked. “Darling, no, don’t say that. Just because we were outed by a trashy website doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be together. I-I think we were made for each other, don’t let this little thing discourage you.”

“It’s not a little thing, though!” you said, your voice wavering. “It-It’s a big thing! I was okay living in anonymity, but this is— I was fine not being well known, but you— You’re the most talked-about guy on the planet right now! I’m not sure I’m meant to be Joseph Quinn’s girlfriend, maybe it was good that we broke up before you got super famous.”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked. He looked hurt, like a little puppy, and he said, “Do you not want this?”

“I want this more than anything!” you said. “But I’ve only ever had a handful of acting jobs before, I’m a fucking server for God’s sake, I don’t think I’m ready to give that up! Right now, my options are to date you and lose my anonymity, or keep it but lose you!”

Joe sighed, shaking his head. “Well, love, I can’t make that decision for you,” he said. “What do you think is best?”

You sniffled. “I don’t want to lose you again,” you whimpered. “But I… I don’t know.”

Joe was quiet, and he took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across your palm, and he finally said, “Let me make some calls and see what I can do about getting those pictures taken down.”

“No,” you sniffled. “Leave them up. I want everyone to know that you’re the man I love. I’m not ashamed of that.”

Joe nodded quickly. “Darling,” he started. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow if you’re this upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you told him. “Not anymore. It’s not something that either of us can control, so why bother being upset about it? Or at least I can try to believe that… I don’t want you to leave either.”

“What if I don’t leave?” Joe asked. “What if I cancelled and stayed here with you?”

“No, you can’t cancel the day before,” you said softly. “I wish there was some way I could… I don’t know, go with you. So that we didn’t have to leave each other right now.”

Joe’s eyes lit up, and he said, “Actually… There might be a way. When I was first asked to present the award, they asked if I had a date, and I said no, but I wonder if it’s too late to say yes.”

“The day before?” you cringed. “They’d have to shuffle around so much shit. And so would you. And I don’t have a dress or anything to wear, and I’m awful at doing my makeup—”

“Let me call my team,” Joe asked. “I wonder if Fabio can put something together for you, and my makeup artist might be able to… Don’t count this out, let me call my manager and see what we can do.”

Whether Joe had a silver tongue or what, you had no idea, but, by the time you had called into work to ask for the day (and next few ones) off, you were officially a guest at the MTV Awards. He had managed to secure you a spot— “you may not be sitting next to us, but you’ll be there”— and he was calling his stylist as you slipped out of the flat to go back to yours to pack. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done something spontaneous like this, and your heart thumped when you returned to Joe’s flat, luggage in hand. He was still in his boxers, although now he wore a t-shirt, and he smiled and opened his arms to you. “Tell me I’m the best boyfriend ever,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“My stylist, Fabio, said that he got permission from Valentino to loan him a dress for you last minute,” Joe told you, and you gasped. “I’m wearing Valentino, and now, so are you. I still have to call my makeup artist and see if she can do anything for us, but, baby—“

You jumped forward and hugged Joe tightly, laughing and smiling along with him. It felt like a dream, and you could hardly believe your luck as you pressed your lips to Joe’s. You got to kiss him again. You got to hug him again. You were the luckiest girly in the world. He sighed as he kissed you, gentle and loving, and his lips parted from yours all too soon for your liking. “Let me make more calls,” he whispered, his eyes intensely watching you. You didn’t feel small or inferior under his gaze, only loved, and he kissed your forehead before he parted from the hug. “See what I can do for you.”

“I love you,” you told him, and Joe’s ears tinged pink as he blushed. “You’re amazing.”

“I love you too,” Joe said. “I… Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but I was… I was in a bad place when you left me. It was… I didn’t eat. I hardly slept. I could only think about how badly I had fucked up.”

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head. “You did nothing wrong at all. You’re literally the least guilty person in this situation, you did nothing at all, and I was… I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. And I will, for as long as you want me to. I didn’t listen to you or let you speak when it happened, and you were right to, like, cut me off and out and shit, I would have done the same, and you’re remarkable for forgiving me and wanting me back, and then bending over backwards to help me so I can wreck your plans. I don’t deserve you.”

Joe stepped back close to you, and he wrapped his arms around you and touched his nose against yours. “All I’ve ever wanted is you,” he told you. “And now I have you again.”

You thought about what Wes had told you, how Joe was so close to proposing all those years ago, and you whispered, “Did you… Keep it?”

“Keep what?” Joe asked.

“The ring,” you said, and you swallowed thickly. “Do you still have it?”

Joe nodded slowly. “I always thought that, one day, I’d have you back to wear it,” he said. “Do you want to see it?”

“I’d like to wear it this weekend,” you told him, your heart beating up in your throat and nearly choking you. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s…” Joe started,, and he scoffed and smiled that movie-star smile. “That’s more than okay. I’d love nothing more. Let me go get it, a-and if you end up hating it, we can find a new one for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” you told him, and Joe nearly tripped on himself as he hurried out of the living room and back into his bedroom. You followed him, albeit at a slower pace, and you leaned against the doorframe as you watched him rummage in his closet. He checked the topmost shelf, pushing his hand all the way back to the wall, and he finally closed his fingers around a small box, dragging it out of its hiding spot. The velvet on the outside of the box was a little dusty from eight years in his closet, and he blew on it and gave you a sheepish grin as he handed you the box.

You cracked it open and was met face to face with a silver diamond ring, not gaudy but big enough for it to be obvious that a large chunk of money went into purchasing it. Your mouth fell open, and you gasped softly at the sight of it, and you frowned instantly. “Joe—”

“Oh, you hate it,” he whispered. “It’s too big, isn’t it? I can get you something smaller.”

“No, no, I love it,” you said quickly. “It’s just… You kept it this whole time?”

“I told you,” Joe said. “I always thought that you’d come back and want to wear it.”

“Well, you were right,” you chuckled. “Put it on me, darling?”

Joe stepped forward, and he took the ring box from your hand and carefully lifted the ring from its velvet home. He took your hand in his and carefully slid the ring onto your finger, and you held it out for both of you to admire. “What kinda ring is this?” you asked. “A promise ring, or… More?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Joe told you.

“Can I be honest?” you asked, and Joe nodded, and you finally let your thick throat win, and you began to cry. “The thought of you being with any other girls makes me sick. I get so jealous a-and I know it’s not healthy, but I need to be your only one.”

“Have you dated since me?” Joe asked, and you shook your head. “I told you that I’ve been on dating apps, but it… I was chasing something like what you gave me, and I could only find your kind of love with you. I don’t want anybody else’s love, just yours. So… This ring?”

“I’d marry you in an instant,” you told him, pressing your hands to his cheeks. “My sweet, amazing Joe.”

You helped Joe finish packing that day as he finished his phone calls, securing a makeup artist for you the next night, and he didn’t answer his publicist’s hounding for a response to the articles. Your flight left early in the morning for Santa Monica, and you spent every second with Joe. It felt nice to be surrounded by him again, and, before you slept that night, you gave him a kiss and bundled up in his arms.

The day felt like a whirlwind. You barely had a second to breathe, and you followed Joe blindly the entire time, holding his hand and letting him take you wherever he needed to. It was good to be able to blindly trust someone again, especially after spending so long apart from each other; the fact that you were able to slip right back into that meant the world to you. Finally, you reached the hotel where preparations were being made for the awards show, and you met Joe’s favorite stylist, Fabio. Fabio was kind and silly, joking all the time and making you feel right at home, and he dressed you in a dark brown dress that complimented Joe’s suit. You smiled, watching your lover get dressed and get confused by the long scarf-like accessory attached to the shirt, and you held him close as his publicist nearly demanded to take pictures by the large window. He buried a kiss in your styled hair, and you grinned as you presented the ring to the camera. It felt special to be able to share your love with everyone now, and, as you held Joe’s hand as you approached the red carpet later that night, you felt like your heart would burst.

You had to run the gauntlet of photographers and interviewers before you could go inside and escape the sunshine, and Joe held you firmly, cringing in the sunlight but smiling at you. You were very aware of the photographers calling your name, only knowing it because of the most last-minute change to the guest list, and you grinned as best as you could with your professionally-done makeup and soft lipstick smile. Your heart was lodged anxiously in your throat for the entire time (which was really only maybe 5 minutes, but felt like hours), and you sighed as Joe approached the first woman with a microphone. You tried to step away from the camera, to give him the limelight and let the focus be on him, but his arm snaked around your middle and kept you close to him.

“Mister Joe Quinn!” The interviewer smiled as he approached. “What a sight you are! How’s your night so far?”

“Oh, God, bless you,” Joe chuckled. “I-It’s alright. Stressful, but good.”

“And who is this?” she asked, and Joe looked at you with his gaze playful, a look you recognized, even years on.

“This is my wife,” Joe said, and you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut.

The interviewer grinned at you. “You’re married to the most desired man in the world right now,” she said. “How’s it feel?”

You stammered over your words as you spoke, acutely aware that whatever you said would be broadcast all over the world. Your few roles had the same effect, but this was something different. “I-I can hardly believe it,” you said. “When I first met Joey, we were kids, and he wasn’t… Watching him grow and mature and become what he’s always dreamt of being, it’s rewarding. I love this cheeky bloke, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.”

“And what do you think of Eddie?” she asked. “Did you like him?”

If you were lying already… “Well, someone didn’t warn me about the ending,” you chuckled. “And that would have been nice.”

“I told you you’d cry,” Joe scoffed.

“Well…” you sighed, and you smiled at the interviewer. “I loved Eddie. He’s my favorite thing Joe’s ever done.”

“So, Joe,” the interviewer said. “What’s next for you?”

Joe shrugged, pouting his lips. “I’m not too worried about what comes next,” he said. “I’m gonna sit in this sun and bask for a while.”

You leaned in and softly whispered, “You deserve it.” Joe looked at you with a small smile, and he kissed your cheek softly.

“Alright, well, you’ve got a long night, so don’t let me keep you too long,” the interviewer said. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, love,” Joe said kindly, and you smiled and waved at her as you stepped forward towards the next well-dressed interviewer and camera.

“Wife?” you mumbled through a smile, and Joe nodded.

“I’m off the market,” Joe shrugged. “Is that so bad?”

“Not at all,” you said. “I like you being off the market.”

“Good,” Joe said. “I like you being off the market.”

“My man,” you hummed, and you leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you. For absolutely everything.”

“Thank you for giving me someone to give everything to,” Joe said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

taglist: @corrodedarchiv, @faeriemunson14, @steddieloverrr, @wordscomehither, @harley1608, @ellolovely22, @birdysaturne, @freakymunson, @miserybeans, @3rd-conchord

#joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn rpf

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jistagrams · 4 months

Note

Heyyyy I really LOVE your Riize text fics❤️❤️… I just recently started listening to them because of that one Sohee’s edit… idk if you know the one I’m talking about… THEYRE ALL SO FKINGG FOINEE!!! but please!!!!! 🤲🏽 I’d like to request an angst fic (if you’re accepting🧎🏽‍♀️) about my homeboy Wonbin that was drunk and cheated and is trying his best to get back with yn, like make him work hard to get her back but please let it have a fluffy ending cause as much as I love angst, I don’t want to cry at the ending lol… Thank you🫶🏽

of course 🙌 i love angst fics and thank uuu !💞

untitled

parings: bf!wonbin x gf!reader

warnings: cheating, fluff near the end

you were anxious, scared, nervous. You couldn’t believe what you saw, why would he do that? how could he do that? you never thought of him as a cheater until your friend sent a video of your boyfriend, wonbin, making out with a girl at a party.

everything always happens at parties. When he came home you didn’t want to look him in the eyes, everything felt unreal. he looked guilty but he continued like he did nothing. you didn’t know how to bring it up, “oh i saw u sucking another girls face” , “so we’re cheating now?” , “why did you kiss her”. Nothing sounded right, a thousand thoughts went through your head at once, looking at him as he talked about the party from last night made you sick to your stomach, “sohee was there too, he was getting down on the dance floors” he laughed at remembering it as he changed from his clothes, the shirt the girl was gripping on. You just hummed, still thinking about the other girl. was she prettier? Was she funnier? what was so special about her? You couldn’t hold your tongue any longer, “why did you do that” you whispered, feeling tears start to fall, you didn’t even realize you were crying till he turned to you and wiped the tears that fell, “what do you mean?” He asked you, cocking his head to the side. You passed him your phone, all he had to do was unlock it and the video was shown. he felt his heart drop to his ass, shit. “yn..” he started to speak, “i just wanna know why” you said trying to sound like you weren’t on the verge of sobbing. he kneeled down infront of you, placing his hands on your legs. “Baby.. no yn, I genuinely apologize. I was drunk but that doesn’t even make it okay, that was horrible of me to do and I deeply apologize and regret it, i don’t know why i even did what i did. I just… did it” he pleaded with you, starting to tear up as well. You didn’t know what to say. feeling too many emotions at once, “still doesn’t make it ok” you mumbled, “i know..i know yn” he looked down, wiping his own tears. “Why her? Why couldn’t you just go home if you wanted to kiss someone?” You asked, crying even harder. “I don’t know.. she was just.. there. I didn’t want to leave either” his voice was quiet but he sounded sincere. “this makes me feel like shit” you laughed and wiped your tears. “I know, im so sorry yn, I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust I swear. I’ll stay until you forgive me, I want to fix this…do you?” He finally looked up at you, you knew you still loved him, how couldn’t you? But you were scared this would happen again. “Is it gonna happen again?” You asked him, he shook his head as in no, “I’ll never do it again, it’s sick of me to even do it in the first place” , “yea kinda evil of you bin” he smiled at your joke, “I’ll forgive you.. but ur gonna have to work hard to regain my trust” you smiled back at him, he showed his toothy smile at your words. Getting up from his knees and kissing your forehead, “I’ll do anything to stay with you baby, i love you too much.”

#kpop #kpop smut #riize wonbin #wonbin #riize gif #riize x reader #riize moodboard #riize smut #riize fluff #riize icons #riize #riize imagines #riize suggestive #riize smau #riize soft hours #riize scenarios

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heeracha · 2 years

Text

## wedding mechanism. — p. jay

content/warning(s): non-idol!jay x f!reader, obvious with the title, marriage talks, reader being sad and coping mechanism is to,,,, wear a wedding dress 😭 just like in that friends ep,,, swearing, let me know what i miss <3 also jay being anti-romantic lol, unproofread

wc: 0.9k

note: taking a break from doing my report lol,,, this is,,,,,, something that i see that i would do in the future im not even gonna lie. anyway, here u go, hope u enjoy whatever this is T_T

it was stupid.

so stupid.

you were just trying out the dress for your friend who was currently on the other side of the world, but now… you don’t want to be out of it. you just want to be in it. all the damn time.

it didn’t help either when your roommate that came with you rented a dress because she wants to be in one as well. so, now, here you two are being sad, but it wasn’t really obvious because the apartment was filled with laughter as you two play catch.

…with a bouquet.

oh, by the way, it wasn’t just a simple dress. it’s a wedding dress.

so now, here you two are in the coffee shop, staring at nothing in particular. you were leaning your cheek against your palm as you sigh. you were bored. you and your friend hated your clothes now. you two just wanted to be in those wedding dresses.

god, you were so sad.

not taking it anymore, you said, “i want to wear it again!” you huff.

“wear what?”

your eyes widen and you turn your head, seeing your boyfriend behind you. “nothing.” you say and jay raises an eyebrow. “this dress, i found in the mall.” you lie and jay frowns.

“you didn’t buy it?” jay asks, hand digging in his pocket.

“no, it was—” jay cuts you off, holding his credit card out to you. you chuckle, shaking your head as you push it back to him. “no, they didn’t fit me.” you lie and jay frowns.

“how about you just buy it and we go to a seamstress, get it altered?” jay asks and you smile, shaking your head.

“it’s okay.” you softly say, standing up as you turn around to him, kneeling on the couch to face him. “don’t you have work?” you ask, hand on his wrist as you look at his watch.

“yeah,” jay says. “i’m just getting coffee.” he says and you nod. “by the way, i’ll swing by your apartment later. i left my files there the other day.” he says and you nod.

“i’ll see you. bye, honey.” you say and jay kisses your lips, going to the counter to get his coffee. he passes by you again, pressing a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

yeah, you have a boyfriend. no, you weren’t rushing into marriage.

but jay said from the very start, he doesn’t want to get married. ever.

you don’t even know why you still said yes to being his girlfriend.

“maybe he changed his mind?” your friend says and you look at her. you sigh, plopping on the couch.

“it’s been five years since we started dating. he never wants to talk about the future.” you say.

was it wrong that you just wanted to know if he sees a future with you? you already know the answer, anyway.

when you and your friend decide to go to your apartment, you see your roommate who is also your best friend with a gloomy expression on her face. “what’s the matter?” you softly ask.

“he broke it off with me.” she softly says and you frown, going to her to hug her as your other friend did the same. you both comforted your roommate, patting her on the back. then, you two catch each other’s eyes.

“hey, want to cheer up?” she asks and your roommate looks at the two of you.

after playing catch with a bouquet, you three sat on your couch with a bottle of alcoholic drinks in your hands as you three watched movies.

“this really does put me in a good mood.” your roommate says and you smile. “how sad are we?”

“very sad.” you answer and the two laugh.

then, a knock comes.

shit.

jay.

“fuck,” you curse, standing up as you look at the door. “that’s jay. he’s going to get his files.”

“oh, let’s scare him.” your roommate says, standing up to go to the door.

“no, no, no. he’s going to freak out!” you say as you struggle to grab the zipper on your back.

“it’s just a prank.” she says, chuckling as she gets to the door. she opens the door, it flies open as she holds her arms out and jokingly says, “i do!”

jay eyes your roommate weirdly, eyeing her up and down. “what the fuck?” he says and your roommate laughs. “where’s y/n? i told her—” he stops his sentence when he sees you. fuck, fuck, fuck. he’s going to breakup with you, isn’t he? jay softly pushes your friend to the side, slowly walking towards you.

jay eyes you from head to toe, no expression.

but you were shit scared.

when he stops in front of you, you start to ramble. “okay, i know you said you never want a wedding, you’re never getting married. i was just trying it on for my friend who isn’t here because we’re the same size. and i just… i don’t know, i was being sad and pathetic, thinking this might be the only chance i get to wear a wedding dress. just… go ahead and yell at me.”

jay only stares right into your eyes for a solid minute.

“...you’re beautiful.”

you look at him, eyes slightly widening as your hands come up to cover to your mouth.

does this mean…?

“you’re throwing that out, though.” jay says and your hands fall on your sides, frowning.

“don’t worry,” you softly say, disappointment evident in your voice. “it’s not even mine.”

my god, it’s not even yours.

“good.” jay says, grabbing his folder. he opens it, going through it to see if it were the files he needed, then he looks up to you. “it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her wedding dress.”

you softly smile and jay taps his finger under your chin.

he did change his mind after all.

likes, rbs and feedbacks are vv much appreciated. <3

#am i going through it? probably #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #jay imagines #jay scenarios #jay fluff #jay reactions #jay x reader

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

What if Corey has a CNC kink-

But he's worried you don't wanna do it so he keeps to himself but he gets upset and when you say that you also have the kink he just- goes feral-

Combined this with the ask from @yllcm below. . . my inner sommelier felt it was a good pairing.

Notes: NSFW 18+, unprotected PIV, CNC (con-noncon), noncon, Corey and Michael both alive after Halloween Ends.

PSA on Corey requests: don't take it personally if I don't answer something fast or spin it into Michael thirst lol. 💟

Background Notes: Corey and Michael both survive. I cant resist mentioning Michael revived Corey by snapping his neck, and the whole midnight procession was just from Laurie’s novel, a therapeutic exercise in closure. Corey gets out of town while things cool off.

You don’t quite believe it when Corey insists Michael is still alive, until you see Michael lurking around one day. Then, you see him again. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that you’ve seen him twice in one week. It stays on your mind. You have trouble sleeping.

When you finally drift off for a nap, you have a very hot dream that Michael attacks you and has his way with you. Dream Michael is pummeling you and you’re about to come when you wake up. Shortly after, you receive a call from a restricted number.

- - -

“Hello?”

“Hey babe.” Corey's low voice sends a chill down your spine. “What are you doin?”

“Ohh, I was just taking a nap.”

“Aww, sorry for waking you up.”

“Nah, already woke up. What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Has anyone seen Michael around yet?”

“Actually I saw him myself.”

“You what? really?”

“Yeah, the first time I thought I was seeing things so I didn’t mention it. But today, I was sure.”

“No shit. Is he following you?”

“When are you going to tell me what happened?”

There’s a long pause.

“Not on the phone,” he says. “Wow, I wonder if he’s stalking you. Are you scared?”

“I was, but I just had the strangest dream and I'm not now.”

“What was the dream?”

“Actually it was kind of, um, sexual. I’m still pretty worked up.”

There’s a long pause.

“Sorry, I guess that’s weird.”

“No,” he says. Something changes in his voice. “It’s hot as hell.” He sighs. “What happened, did he fuck you?”

“Really? Okay. Yeah, he came into the diner when I was working. Everyone cleared out but me because I was in the bathroom.”

“Uh-huh”

“He walked straight across the diner and-”

“Did he pull his knife on you?” Corey breathes heavily.

“Yeah. I thought he was going to kill me, then he bent me over a table.”

“Fuck,” Corey breathes. “Then what.”

“Are you hard right now?”

“So hard. What happened next”

“I tried to escape while he had his cock in his hand. He caught me and threw me back down.”

“Ohhh my god”

“Then he forced me.”

“And you liked it?”

You moan softly. “Never felt anything like it before. No offense.”

“What was it like?” He whispers.

“God, now I’m wet.”

“Fuck, I wish I was there so bad.” It’s obvious he’s jerking off.

“Me too, trust me,” you whine as you touch yourself.

“What was it like,” he repeats, darker.

“Like my whole body was being filled.”

“Oh, God,” Corey’s breath becomes ragged.

“It was so hard. And big, it was huge, but it didn’t even hurt.”

“Fuck me,” Corey whispers. “Did he come?”

“Oh yeah, like a firehose.”

“But I didnt. I woke up."

"Fuck, I wish I could stuff you with my cock right now, make you come." You're twitching on the edge.

"Me too, I miss it so bad."

"Suck your tits while I pound you."

You moan as you come. He's grunting.

You say, Iit was so vivid. I guess I liked it, being forced. Would you ever do that for me?”

Corey groans "fuck yes," then sighs in relief as he comes.

As he catches his breath, he says "absolutely.”

You groan and say, "I feel so empty. When are you coming back? Can I come to you? I dunno how long I can wait. "

He sighs. "Michael's following you. What if he really tries something?"

"I dunno, would you be upset?"

"God no, you should do it. Hell, I'd do it"

"Now that's hot."

- -

A few days later, you’re about to leave for work. You open your apartment door and Corey’s there with the darkest look in his eyes. He pushes you right back into your kitchen.

“Corey-”

He cuts you off with his mouth, kissing you ferally. He sucks your neck, gropes your breasts.

“I have to work,” you pant.

He pulls you into him so you can feel how hard he is and you moan, dropping your bag and keys.

He manhandles you onto the sofa without a word and pulls down your pants and underwear. You start to get up to take them off entirely but he forces you back down on your back and pins your hands above your head as he lays his whole body into you. He keeps your wrists pinned with one massive hand and takes his cock out with the other. You’ve never been so turned on. He shoves himself into you with a grunt and pounds you until you come.

@wolvesandvampires @ethanhoewke @rebel-blue

#corey cunningham x reader #michael myers x reader #corey cunningham smut #michael myers smut #michael myers #corey cunningham #ask box #toxicanonymity ☠️#corey cunningham x michael myers #toxic sommelier

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theficplug · 2 years

Text

Nights Like This.

Carmen Berzatto x Black Reader

Summary : A fluffy little look into Carmy helping his fiancee after a girls night out.

Warnings: 18 + as always, no actual smut just slightly sexy moments-loads of fluff though.

unedited. sorry, i know i'm still rusty lol, i hope you like it still.

(watch The Bear , it's so good and Jeremy Allen White / Ebon Moss-Bachrach always eat up all their roles.)

“I want you to have fun tonight. Call me when you’re ready for me to pick you up baby. You got your pepper spray? Did you charge your phone? ” Carmy anxiously asks against your lips with a final kiss.

“Baby, My phone is fully charged. I’ve got the pepper spray and the lipstick knife that you got me last weekend. It’s okay, I’m okay. What are you gonna do tonight?” You ask, nuzzling his nose and he shrugs.

He then leans his head for a moment like he's weighing his options.

Ever the old man. If you knew your man well enough, you knew that he'd probably be at home with a wine older than both of his parents and he'll be yelling at Beat Bobby Flay. Or something along those lines.

“Probably watch Iron Chef or some shit until I nod off. Richie wanted me to come over for some football game, but he knows I don’t watch sports like that. I only ever really watched it with Mike- Go go go, they’re waiting for you. Say hey for me and call me when you’re ready. No Ubers or Lyft or whatever the fuck it’s called. I’ll come scoop you up.” He insists again and with that you’re giving him one final kiss before you’re being pulled away by your girls.

He didn’t trust Ubers or any of that stuff late at night and always insisted on taking you to and from your night outs with your girls. No matter how tired he was from being at work all day.

The night was beyond fun because you hadn't seen your girls in forever and of course you were going to celebrate Davena's birthday on Throwback Night at your favourite place. The lot of you settled on going as Destiny's Child.

Hours later when your feet were aching and the room felt like it was moving like a Tilt-A-Whirl and all the uncles had came out two stepping towards you and your friends. You knew that it was time for Kelly Rowland to head out and home to her man.

You pulled out your phone to call your fiance. And the press of a button he was outside waiting for you and your friends within the next 15 minutes.

“Heeeyyy Carmy. I'm gonna get Luke to come around tomorrow to take a look at that stove. It might be time to do a replacement.” Davena says entering the car

"Hey, okay, yeah. It hadn't been changed since like '03 anyways so it's time. It's the one that Michael loved, and it was like the only stove he cooked on 'cause when the place first opened he was broke as fuck and couldn't afford more. But I'm tired of that shit nearly catching on fire every time Syd turns it on." he answers and earns a chuckle from her.

“How you doing Carmy? You still trying to learn how to make gumbo? I told you that an Italian boy from the Chi don't know nothing about that. You need to get my grandma up in your kitchen, but she's never giving that family recipe up." Naomi teases as she sits back in her seat.

"No doubt, No doubt. I wouldn't even dare ask Ms. Monroe about that. I learned my lesson from the peach cobbler." he says and they both laugh for a moment thinking about her grandma asked Carmy to buy a peach cobbler from the store to bring to the cookout instead of making one because she didn't believe that he was actually a chef.

They always joked and chatted like this back and forth like brother and sisters and you were grateful that they got along like family because they hated your long term boyfriend before Carmy with a passion.

In all fairness , his family and friends watched you like a hawk as well until they realized that you were damn near perfect for him. You were Carmy's first serious relationship so you understand their caution and concern.

It took one time for them to sse the way that you and Carmen interacted and they just knew that you two were meant to be.

“Boy, you should’ve seen how she busted her ass coming outside to you. Talking about my mans outside.” Naomi jokes as she pretends to fall over in her seat.

They all talk at once slightly slurring their words as they enter the car with you .

You, took the passenger seat while they piled into the back still laughing at you holding onto Robin so that you didn’t completely fall down.

“See, I wasn’t going to say nothing about you throwing ass on Mr. Leprechaun but- sis next time I’m going to need you to turn around and see that it’s not us.” you reply to Naomi before she shakes her head in disgust.

“His , ‘where’s me gold’ looking ass almost gave me a damn heart attack. Y’all wrong for that one.” she says throwing a peanut from her bra at the back of your head.

"We got him out of there when we realized , didn't we?" Robin says still laughing and wiping at her smeared corner of her eyeliner.

Carmy smiles sleepily at you while stopped at the red light and lean over for a kiss. He sucked on your bottom lip for a moment tasting the remnants of the sugary drinks and peanuts from the bar when you leaned back to hiccup.

“The girls wanted to stay over tonight and go home in the morning?” you question and he nods, tapping his tattooed fingers on the steering wheel to the music with the other resting on your inner thigh.

“That’s fine. We’ve got the pull out and then someone can take the air mattress that’s still up from the last time Tiff put Richie out. So it all works out.” he answers and you turn up the radio as Davena starts singing along to the song.

You know that it’s a successful girls night out when you, Davena, Robin , and Naomi are in the car singing along loudly and off tune to Keyshia Cole after countless fruity colorful drinks that snuck up on you way too quickly.

“LOOOOOVEEE. NEVER KNEW WHAT I WAS MISSING, BUT I KNEW ONCE WE START KISSING-” all 3 of you sing as you point at Carmy and he just laughs sleepily while shaking his head at y’all putting on a full concert in his small car.

“Love you though.” You whisper to him as he nods and gives your thigh a small squeeze.

The car ride ended quicker than expected as the 5 of you made it to your shared apartment with Carmy and he immediately began to set things out for them.

You not only loved how he has been a gentleman to you for the past 4 years of you two being together but also the way he treated the women in your life. He was always polite, loving, and kind to your mother sister and friends.

He found multiple blankets in the storage closet with pillows and laid them out before sluggishly turning towards the group with your purse and heels in his hands.

“There’s blankets on the couch. I made lasagna earlier. You are more than welcome to it. Just please keep it down for me. I have an early morning, thank you. Goodnight crew." Carmy says quietly to the group before heading off to the bedroom.

“OKAY, LASAGNA.”

“They really could not cook at that place because everything they offered was either cold or cooked too hard.”

“ We love you Carmiiiinnnee” they call out to him.

“Right back at you.” he responds quickly before finally making it to the bedroom and sliding off his shirt. He sits on the bed and watch as you wobble and scurry around the room.

You grab clothes for your girls to change into before making your way into the bedroom after Carmy.

He smiles at you for a moment getting wrapped up in watching you before stretching and moving to the bathroom to find your cleanser.

Your heart melts when you notice Carmen was prepared for you to return home. He had a cold bottle of water set out for you, meds, a night gown, peppermints, and your makeup remover wipes. This man is truly one in a billion let alone one in a million.

“Come to the bathroom so that I can help you.” he calls out to you while looking through the cabinet to find your cleanser.

“I also have your robe right here if you don’t feel like wearing anything tonight. I mean- I’m not complaining if you don’t want to.” he states half jokingly as he stoops down once you reach the bathroom to rub your aching foot a little before switching to the other one.

He moves back up to slowly making his way up your legs as his hands find the button to your mini skirt and you shimmy it down your legs along with your panties.

You notice how his eyes are following the curves of your body as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

You don’t miss the way that his fingertips ghost up from the bottom of your stomach and up your sides to slide off your top and then to unstick your boob tape.

You hiss for a second and he gives you a small chuckle and faint pout.

“Aww baby, I’m sorry. I had no other way to get it off. Let me kiss it better?” he asks in faux concern.

He just wanted to take the moment to get his lips on you.

The mix of the way he’s eyeing your breasts and putting his pouty pink lips all over your glistening bronze skin has got you on go.

His tongue briefly swirling over the now hardened little dark brown bud while your hand makes their way to the back of his head, flushed against the soft waves to steady yourself.

You moan softly and wobble over slightly, leaning over and putting all of your weight onto him tiredly.

Carmy laughs for a moment before remembering what he was initially supposed to be doing in the first place.

You let him sit you on the bathroom counter and watch him leave and re-enter with the water and meds.

“I know you're sleepy but you’re going to have to let me get this off of you because if I don’t get this makeup off of you and put your bonnet on for tonight. A very happy drunk you will turn into a very upset hungover you in the morning. I’ve got to be at the restaurant early tomorrow. I don’t want you crying into my chest telling me about how much your head hurts. Then they’re gonna be on my ass for missing the meeting ‘cause you know I can’t leave you like that. You know Syd is the only one I trust with the place but they don't listen to her. Drink your water and then close your eyes so I can take your lashes off." Carmy says finally while putting the cold bottle of water to your lips.

“Wish Syd would've gone out with us tonight... Hmm, Yes, Chef. Love it when you take care of me. Always take good care of me". You purr teasingly while running your fingertips up and down his bare belly and then down to the inside of his boxers and sweats, sending slight shivers up his spine.

“Stop that shit. Ferma quella merda (stop that shit). ” He repeats half heartedly, swatting your hands away and stepping back slightly to keep you from palming him.

You could tell that your antics were getting to him while he tried to focus on washing your makeup away because his breathing quickened and his heart began to beat a mile a minute.

“You don’t want it?” You ask slightly, separating your legs for a moment and he looks down, contemplating while licking over his bottom lip.

He brings one hand over your thighs giving the thick soft skin a squeeze before dragging his hand between your legs letting his fingertips dip into you slightly.

You instantly scoot up against his hand, thighs locking around it like a vice.

Carmen lets out a long drawn out sigh at how wet you are while shaking his head.

You place your hand over his before working your hips against it and yours finds its way inside of his boxers to palm him again.

"What's got you dripping like this already, pretty?" he asks quietly taking his time his fingers exploring and moving without haste inside of you.

Carmy removes his hand and licks his fingers clean before taking your hand out of his boxers with a soft groan.

“I know. I know.” he coos to soothe your protesting . You look at him with a frowned expression and it takes everything in him not to laugh at you sitting on the bathroom counter stark naked, mostly drunk, and pouting at him like he had just offended you.

He ignored you staring daggers into him as he put the minty toothpaste onto your toothbrush.

“If you start some shit- you know that i’m not going to be able to finish it. Not with you like this. Come on, I have to be up at 4 tomorrow. Stop pouting and gimme kiss.” He asks with his lips puckered out and you take the opportunity to lean up and kiss him until he’s moaning softly against your lips, then kiss all over his face.

“Thank you baby. Open- ahh.” He instructs and helps you brush your teeth gently before that post-alcohol breath starts to hit different.

"I promise. Tomorrow after work, I won't even make dinner because I already know what i'll be eating all night. Deal?" he offers feeling bad that you're now trying to give him the puppy dog eyes.

Carmen couldn’t help but to laugh at your antics because if sober you knew that you were being all sappy and affectionate she would go through the floor.

"Deal. Wanna taste you too though." you finally respond.

You were eyeing him and taking in his mousy brown hair and his slightly tired eyes and puffy kissed bitten lips. He looked so beautiful like this.

A moment where he isn't stressing about 9,000 other things.

“Gonna marry you and have all your babies. You know that? If we have a boy. We have to name him Michael. ” you say to him , half awake at this point.

He knows that you’re tired and drunkenly saying what’s on your mind but the fact that you wanted to name your son after his brother made his heart feel like it was going to leap through his chest.

He knows that Michael would’ve loved you. Carmen's sister and his entire family adored you already as if you were their own.

You were the reason why he began to rebuild and repair the relationship between them that was strained long before the grief.

He knew the moment that you walked into the restaurant with all of your color samples and designs for the remodel that you were going to be it for him.

Call it fate, divine timing, luck, or whatever else. You two got on from the moment he sat down across from you in the booth.

By the end you two had long forgotten that the purpose of the meeting was to talk about interior design and renovations. You were too busy telling him that he hadn’t lived until he tried Ethiopian spaghetti.

You two didn’t stop talking until well after the restaurant had closed and everyone had gone home. But, not before Richie yelled “wrap it before you tap it, cousin” from outside of the restaurant window and you both turned to flip him off.

You two were friends for a long while and it took everything to convince each other that it wouldn’t end in disaster before you both just gave in to the inevitable of falling in love.

Even as the restaurant's changes came to an end. The bond you two had forged so quickly within those months was just getting started.

“Gonna make me a husband and a daddy? How did I get so lucky, hmm ?” he asks, leaning down to nuzzle your nose and your neck.

After brushing your teeth and completely taking off your makeup Carmy places a final kiss to your forehead and lips.

“Let me see you, my pretty baby.” he coos , holding your face in his hands.

“You always take good care of me baby. Love you so much.” you mumble half asleep as he slides the silk gown from the counter onto you.

You place your head against his chest to hear his heartbeat.

“‘That’s what I’m supposed to do because I love you too. Always gonna take care of you. Come on, let’s get you to bed, pretty.” he responds, sliding the bonnet onto your head and tucking it up so that it doesn’t irritate your ears.

He had finally got you into bed and spooned comfortably in his arms.

It took him all of 10 minutes of humming and letting you trace his tattoos for you to fall asleep, snoring softly.

He didn't bother even bother to turn on the t.v. because he already knew that he'd be following shortly.

Both of you grateful that you get to be husband and wife officially in 4 months time.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #fanfic for black girls

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