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#the way his smile faded when she said it i love him
onsomenewsht · 1 day
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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hd-junglebook · 23 hours
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The Lucky Bachelor
Part 1 - Luke Hughes X Reader
Masterlist Link
a:n When you guys' finish let me know if you want a part 2. I'm a little conflicted because I feel like I can't write as good for Luke as I do Jack. Idk why when I'm literally gonna marry this man but whatever. Enjoy!!
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Summary: This is their second chance at love, it had been three years since that night in Michigan, three years since they officially split for the better. With some unwanted help Luke knows he will find a way to make her love him again.
Word Count 6401
Y/n’s POV
Y/N inhaled deeply, the distinct aroma of stale coffee and the acrid scent of cleaning products assaulting her senses as she stepped into the bustling airport terminal.
The rhythmic whirring of the wheels on her carry-on luggage provided a muffled counterpoint to the cacophony of voices echoing off the high ceilings and the distant hum of aircraft engines.
As she pushed through the throng of hurried travelers, her eyes darted from sign to screen, searching for the gate information for her flight. Suddenly, the overhead intercom crackled to life, a tinny, robotic voice cutting through the din.
"Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Rome. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time." The announcement was punctuated by a sharp, piercing ding that drew the attention of those waiting nearby.
Amidst the sea of harried bodies, a familiar figure suddenly caught Y/N's eye. Clarke, the bride-to-be and her best friend since childhood, stood near the crowded check-in counter.
Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, the airport's harsh lighting lending an almost ethereal glow to the strands. Clarke was practically bouncing on her toes, her smile radiant with pure joy as she waved enthusiastically, beckoning Y/N over.
"Over here!" Clarke squealed, her voice carrying above the din of the busy airport. She cupped her hands around her mouth, ensuring that her words reached Y/N's ears.
For a moment, the nervousness that had been coiling in Y/N's stomach dissipated, replaced by a warm sense of affection. The nerves that had been twisting in her stomach moments ago melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through her chest.
She quickened her pace, dodging luggage and weaving through the crowd with newfound energy until she reached the circle of familiar faces.
"Sorry, excuse me," Y/N muttered apologetically as she squeezed past a family of tourists, their curious glances following her as she made her way towards her friends.
The moment Y/N stepped into the group, Clarke's eyes lit up, her face splitting into an ecstatic grin. "Y/N! You made it!" she squealed, her voice rising an octave in excitement. Without hesitation, Clarke flung her arms around Y/N, enveloping her in a tight hug that smelled earthy and green.
Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest as she returned the embrace, squeezing Clarke tightly. The two friends held each other for a moment, the chaos of the airport fading into the background as they savored the reunion.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N declared, her voice filled with sincerity as she pulled back to look her best friend in the eye. "You and Damien deserve the best celebration."
At the mention of her fiancé's name, Clarke's cheeks flushed with a delicate hue, a blend of happiness and bashfulness coloring her features. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "It means the world to me that you're here."
Clarke took a deep breath, composing herself before turning to the rest of the group with a radiant smile. "Come say hi to everyone else," she urged, tugging Y/N's hand and leading her towards the other bridesmaids.
As Y/N greeted each of the girls with warm, enthusiastic hugs, the chatter among the group grew louder. But as her gaze swept across the familiar faces, it landed on a newcomer, a girl she had never seen before.
The stranger stood slightly apart from the rest, her fiery red hair cascading down her back in vivid, rebellious curls.
Her piercing green eyes seemed to hold a glint of something mysterious, an undercurrent of intensity that made Y/N pause for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.
Brushing off the strange, unsettling feeling that crept up her spine, Y/N approached the girl with a friendly smile etched onto her features. "Hi there," she said, extending her hand in greeting. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Y/N, Clarke's childhood friend."
The redhead's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a guarded expression that immediately put Y/N on edge. "Anastasia," she replied, her voice smooth and measured as she grasped Y/N's outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Despite the polite exchange, Y/N couldn't shake the odd, prickling sensation that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Anastasia, something indescribable, that felt off - a subtle tension that hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating.
But before Y/N could dwell on it further, Clarke appeared by their side, her face lit up with excitement, effectively shattering the moment.
"Y/N, I see you've met Anastasia," Clarke beamed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, forming a bridge between the two women. "She's a close work friend from my new job. I've been dying for you two to meet!"
Y/N forced a smile, the muscles in her face straining with the effort as she tried to push down the unease that threatened to surface. "That's great," she replied, her voice sounding a bit too chipper even to her own ears. "I'm always happy to meet Clarke's friends. As you can tell we're all thick as thieves now."
Anastasia's piercing gaze flickered between Y/N and Clarke, a flash of something indecipherable crossing her features before it was quickly replaced by a warm, almost saccharine smile.
"Clarke has told me so much about you, Y/N," she said, her tone honey-sweet and dripping with false sincerity. "I feel like I already know you."
Y/N let out a strained laugh, the sound grating against her own ears. "All good things, I hope," she joked, trying in vain to lighten the suddenly palpable tension.
Clarke giggled, her hand giving Y/N's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of unease swirling between the two women.
All too quickly, the girls began navigating through the bustling airport, checking in their luggage and making their way through the winding security checkpoints, Y/N found herself easily falling back into step with their giddy chatter.
Taylor, one of Clarke's college friends, let out a giggle as she recounted her latest romantic escapade.
"Me and Travis aren't together anymore. He was too clingy," she said with a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll steal up one of the best men, huh, Clarke?"
Clarke rolled her eyes playfully, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Taylor was always like this, falling in love too quickly and falling out of it just as fast. Her romantic aspirations were as fleeting as the summer breeze, but her infectious laughter and carefree spirit made her an essential part of their tight-knit group.
The conversation shifted to the upcoming bachelorette party as they made their way to the boarding gate. Clarke's eyes sparkled as she described the home they'd be staying at, her hands gesturing animatedly as she painted a vivid picture of pristine white sand and crystal-clear waters.
"I found it a couple of months ago," she explained, her voice brimming with excitement. "It's a little expensive, but I feel like this week will be worth it."
Y/N listened intently, absorbing every word as Clarke waxed poetic about the luxurious amenities and breathtaking views. She could almost feel the warm sand beneath her feet, the salty breeze caressing her skin, and the laughter of her friends echoing through the night.
The intercom crackled to life, a pleasant voice filling the air. "Attention passengers, this is the final boarding call for Flight 227 to Bali. Please make your way to Gate 12. Thank you."
The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the group, signaling for them to gather their belongings.
The girls fell into a single file line, stepping onto the plane and entering the luxurious first-class cabin that welcomed them with plush seats and gleaming surfaces.
Just as Y/N was settling into her seat, a familiar name caught her attention, causing her heart to skip a beat. "I can't wait to see Luke," one of the girls gushed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality.
It was Anastasia.
"He's such a dreamboat, Emilia, don't you think? Have you seen his arms?" she giggled.
Y/N felt a chill run down her spine, her grip tightening on the handle of her carry-on. She glanced up, only to find Clarke’s eyes already fixed on her, a mixture of guilt and concern etched across her face before she forced a toothy smile. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.
Y/N swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She'd known this moment would come, the day she’d see Luke again. But hearing his name spoken so casually, as if he were just another guest and not the boy who had once held her heart in his hands, made it all too real.
It was Clarke who broke the eye contact first, her smile faltering. She cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "We should probably find our seats," she suggested, her voice strained.
Y/N nodded, grateful for the escape. She followed the group onto the plane, her mind reeling with thoughts of Luke and the memories they'd shared.
Once they settled into their seats, Clarke turned to Y/N, her face contorted with guilt. "I was gonna tell you," she screeched, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't be mad, Damien and Luke have gotten so close it would be rude not to invite him."
Y/N sighed, leaning back against the headrest. She couldn't blame Clarke for inviting Luke. After all, he was part of their shared history, a friend to both the bride and groom.
But the knowledge that he would be there, that she'd have to face him after all this time, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her.
"I'm not mad, I promise," she said, the tightness in her jaw betraying her calm tone as she forced a smile. "It's just... complicated. I haven't seen him in a long time, so maybe this can be a good thing."
Clarke reached over, tentatively squeezing Y/N's hand. "I know," she murmured, her brow furrowed with concern.
"You guys are older now and have most of life figured out. Maybe you guys can be friends again? Get some closure."
Y/N nodded stiffly, her gaze trained straight ahead. The past had a way of clinging to her, of resurfacing when she least expected it. And with Luke, there was so much left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered that made her chest tighten.
Anastasia plopped down into the open seat next to her, a twist of fate that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. The redhead offered her a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
"Looks like we'll be getting to know each other quite well on this trip," Anastasia remarked, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Y/N swallowed hard, the muscles in her neck tensing as she nodded in agreement. Little did she know, Anastasia's words held a weight that would soon become all too clear.
Luke’s POV
Luke stepped off the plane, the warm island breeze caressing his face and tousling his chestnut hair. The salty scent of the ocean filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and tropical flowers.
He paused for a moment, taking it all in, the exotic smells washing over him and easing the tension in his shoulders.
Adjusting the strap of his backpack, Luke scanned the crowded airport, his eyes searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of tourists and locals.
A flash of recognition caught his attention, and he spotted his friends gathered near the baggage claim, their laughter and animated conversations rising above the din of the busy terminal.
A grin spread across his face as he made his way towards them, a mixture of excitement and a touch of nerves fluttering in his chest. "Hey, guys!" he called out, his voice carrying a hint of his trademark dorky charm.
Luke was excited to see his old friends again. His friends turned to greet him, their faces lit up with genuine smiles and enthusiastic handshakes.
They fell into an easy banter, discussing the itinerary for the joint bachelor party and good-naturedly teasing the groom-to-be about his upcoming nuptials.
Luke joined in the lively conversation, laughing and joking along with the others. But even as he participated, he couldn't quite shake the twinge of apprehension that gnawed at the back of his mind.
Y/N would be here, on this very island, and the thought of seeing her again after all this time sent a shiver down his spine.
"Hey, Luke, you planning on sweeping any of the local ladies off their feet this weekend?" one of his friends, Jared, elbowed him playfully.
Luke chuckled, trying to mask the underlying tension. "Nah, man, I'm here to support the groom, not to cause any trouble."
Another friend, Ethan, piped up. "Yeah, right. Like we don't all remember how you used to be the ultimate ladies' man back in the day."
"That was a lifetime ago," Luke shrugged, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. In truth, his mind was elsewhere, still consumed by the thought of reuniting with Y/N.
He could still vividly remember the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the softness of her skin under his fingertips, and the soothing way her voice could calm his worries.
Their fairy tale romance had been cut short by the demands of his burgeoning NHL career, the distance and the pressure ultimately proving too much for their relationship to withstand.
The breakup had been painful, a raw wound that had never fully healed. In the aftermath, they had lost touch, each of them focusing on their own lives and careers, trying to move forward without the other.
Now, as Luke prepared to see Y/N again, he found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.
Would she still be the same girl he had fallen for all those years ago? Would the connection between them still be there, simmering beneath the surface? The uncertainty only served to heighten the nervous anxiety bubbling in his chest.
After three hours of painful silence on the plane, they finally made It back to the ground. y/n felt like she could finally breathe again as the fresh air hit her face. She was almost too grateful to be more than a few feet away from Anastasia.
Clarke led the way to the car rental counter, all seemed well until Anastasia suddenly let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, it looks like there's been some kind of mix-up with our reservation," she groaned, her brow furrowed in frustration.
Clarke's eyes went wide. "What do you mean? I double-checked everything before we left!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry.
Anastasia shot Y/N a pointed look. "Well, maybe if someone hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't be in this mess," she huffed, her tone dripping with condescension.
Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she protested, her hands raised in a placating gesture.
The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Don't play innocent with me. I saw the way you were eyeing the baggage carousel, completely oblivious to everything else around you."
"Woah relax!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "I was just looking around, making sure I didn't miss our luggage. There's no need to make this into a big deal, I mean what exactly is this mess-up you’re talking about."
Anastasia scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, it is a big deal when your carelessness jeopardizes our entire trip. Now we're going to have to waste time sorting this out instead of enjoying ourselves."
Clarke stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's all just take a deep breath, okay? I'm sure we can figure this out," she said in a soothing tone, casting an apologetic glance in Y/N's direction.
Y/N felt her heart racing, she wanted nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to retreat to a quiet corner and gather her thoughts. But Anastasia's accusatory gaze kept her rooted to the spot, her pride and sense of fairness refusing to back down.
"I'm not the one who caused this problem, Anastasia," Y/N insisted, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "If you'd just calm down and let the rental agent handle it, I'm sure we can get this sorted out."
The redhead's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Y/N could have sworn she saw a spark of genuine malice in their depths. "Oh, I'm perfectly calm," Anastasia purred, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "I'm just not going to let anyone ruin this trip for me. Especially not you."
After several tense minutes of negotiating with the rental agent, Clarke finally emerged with a set of keys, a strained smile on her face.
"Okay, everyone," she called out, waving the group over. "We got it all sorted out. Let's head to the car and get this show on the road!"
The girls filed towards the waiting vehicle, each one casting wary glances at Anastasia, who seemed to be in an especially foul mood. As Y/N reached for the handle of the front passenger door, the redhead suddenly pulled it open and slid into the seat, an triumphant smirk on her face.
Y/N froze, unsure if Anastasia was being serious. For a moment, she considered putting up a fight, asserting her rightful place in the front. But the odds already felt stacked against her, and she didn't want to risk escalating the situation further.
Letting out a resigned sigh, Y/N settled into the backseat, squeezing in next to Taylor. The brunette shot her an apologetic look, mouthing a silent "I don’t know what her deal is" as she placed a comforting hand on Y/N's arm.
The car pulled up to the beachfront property, and Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The house was stunning, a perfect blend of modern architecture and tropical charm, nestled on a secluded stretch of pristine white sand.
The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, a soothing melody that did little to calm the butterflies fluttering restlessly in her stomach.
Y/N hung back, taking a moment to gather her composure while the girls tumbled out of the car. She watched as her friends eagerly grabbed their bags from the trunk, their faces aglow with the glow of the setting sun.
The last time she had been in this paradise-like setting, she had been with Luke, their young love blossoming amidst the sun-drenched days and moonlit nights. Now, the prospect of seeing him again after all these years sent a shiver of both trepidation and longing through her.
Emilia turned and noticed Y/N lingering behind. "Y/N! Are you coming inside?" she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.
Y/N mustered a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil she felt. "I just... need a moment."
Emilia returned the smile and nodded in understanding before disappearing through the doorway, leaving Y/N to collect her thoughts. Steeling herself, Y/N reached for her suitcase and followed the group inside.
Exhaling a shaky breath, Y/N pushed open the car door and stepped out, embracing the warm, salty breeze that swept across the secluded beachfront property.
She was the last one to leave the vehicle, her luggage trailing behind her as she crossed the threshold, the car door clicking shut softly behind her - a subtle finality that seemed to seal her fate.
The walk to the kitchen felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the nerves that she couldn’t seem to shake off. Her heart pounded in her ears, a deafening rhythm that drowned out the chatter and laughter of her friends. She forced a smile onto her face, waving to Damien and his groomsmen as she entered the room, her eyes scanning the space almost involuntarily.
And then, as if by some magnetic force, her gaze landed on Luke.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their eyes met, their gazes locking in a moment that was both thrilling and terrifying. This was it, the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the chance to confront the past she had spent years trying to outrun.
He was leaning against the kitchen island, his tall frame exuding an air of effortless confidence. The years had been kind to him, sculpting his features into a breathtaking work of art. His chestnut hair was tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it, and his eyes, those deep pools of brown that had once held her captive, sparkled with mirth as he laughed at something one of the guys had said.
He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine shoot, a perfect specimen of masculine beauty. Y/N felt her breath hitch, her heart skipping a beat as she drank in the sight of him. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still those love-struck teenagers, stealing glances at each other across a crowded classroom.
Luke's expression shifted from surprise to a tentative smile, and Y/N felt her heart flutter, the familiar pull of their connection tugging at her very soul. She took a step forward, compelled by an invisible thread that bound them together, but the sound of Anastasia's voice piercing the charged silence shattered the moment, yanking Y/N back to reality.
"Y/N! There you are," the redhead chirped, her tone sugary sweet as she sidled up to Y/N, a possessive hand resting on her arm. "We were just about to start mixing cocktails. Care to join us?" Y/N tore her gaze away.
"Uh, yeah, sure. I'd love to help," Y/N managed, her voice betraying a hint of her nerves. She moved to the counter, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the task at hand.
She could feel Luke's presence, even without looking at him, a palpable energy that crackled and sizzled in the space between them. It was going to be a long week, a test of her resolve and her ability to keep her heart in check.
With one last glance in Luke's direction, Y/N turned away.
Y/N plastered on a smile, pushing down the turmoil raging within as she joined the girls in the kitchen, their lively chatter and laughter a sharp contrast to the palpable tension coursing through her veins.
"Ah, there's our girl!" Anastasia crooned, draping a possessive arm around Y/N's shoulders and guiding her to the makeshift bar. "We were just about to start mixing some cocktails."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering towards the living room, where the groomsmen - including Luke - had gathered. She could feel his eyes on her, a pull so powerful it was as if he were a planet and she, a helpless moon in his gravitational field.
"Hey, Luke, looks like your old flame is getting her flirt on," Jared teased, elbowing the other man playfully.
Luke felt a flash of something akin to jealousy surge through him, but he quickly tamped it down, offering a casual shrug. "It's been a long time. I'm sure she's just being friendly."
Ethan chuckled, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Friendly, huh? Well, in that case, maybe one of us should go over there and help her out. You know, show her a real good time."
The group erupted in a chorus of laughter, their eyes trained on the girls as they moved around the kitchen, their movements graceful and flirtatious. She could feel the weight of their gazes, and she fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.
Anastasia, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the attention, her hips swaying in a way that Y/N couldn't help but find a bit over-the-top.
Y/N felt a subtle unease creep up her spine as Anastasia's flirtatious behavior escalated, the redhead's touches and innuendos growing increasingly blatant. Trying to divert Anastasia's attention, Y/N turned to the other girls, forcing a smile onto her face.
"So ladies, how are you two planning to spend tonight?" she asked, silently pleading for backup.
Taylor grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. “I plan to spend it drunk, maybe some skinny dipping on the beach.” she winked.
Clarke, ever the diplomatic peacekeeper, stepped in, placing a hand on Anastasia's arm. "Alright, ladies, let's not hog all the fun. I'm sure the boys are getting thirsty over there." She flashed them a playful wink, her gaze shifting to Y/N, a silent message of reassurance passing between them.
"Oh, don't worry, Clarke. I'm sure the boys can entertain themselves for a while." She cast a pointed glance towards the living room, her lips curving into a coy smile. "After all, we girls need to have a little fun of our own, don't we, Y/N?" Anastasia's smooth, saccharine voice cut through the chatter.
Y/N felt her stomach twist with discomfort, the charged undercurrent in Anastasia's words raising all sorts of warning bells in her mind. Mustering a tight-lipped smile, she nodded, her eyes silently pleading with the other girls to steer the conversation in a different direction.
The initial excitement of the group's arrival had settled down, and the friends naturally split off into smaller clusters, catching up and exploring the luxurious beach house.
Luke stayed in the kitchen fighting with himself on what he should do. ‘Do I go to her?’ He thought to himself. ‘Can I mend three years of silence in a week?’
Caught up in the moment, Luke found himself gravitating towards the living room without another thought, muttering a 'fuck it' as his feet moved of their own accord.
It was as if he were being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He paused just a few feet away, clearing his throat tentatively. She was so lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the hypnotic rhythm of the ocean, that she didn't hear his approaching footsteps until his voice broke through her reverie.
"It's good to see you again," he said, his voice low and warm.
Y/N turned, her heart leaping into her throat as she came face to face with Luke. Up close, he was even more striking, his features sharper and more defined than she remembered.
"Luke," she breathed, his name feeling both foreign and familiar on her tongue. "Yeah, it is good to see you. It's been a while."
He smiled, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter of excitement through her chest. "Two years, give or take," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers. "You look... amazing by the way."
Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical climate. "Thanks," she managed to choke out. "You look better, happier..."
There was a beat of silence as they drank in each other's presence, the weight of the years that had passed palpable between them.
Y/N's mind raced, desperately searching for the right words, the perfect way to bridge the gap that had grown. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she longed to ask, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, trapped behind the turbulent surge of emotions.
Luke, too, seemed to be grappling with his own thoughts, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied her face, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.
"I saw you play the other week, I'm happy things are working out for you," Y/N began, looking between his face and their friends running on the beach.
"You saw the game?" Luke questioned, his expression shifting to one of shock.
"I was there in person," she admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Wait, what...How come you didn't say hi?" he pressed, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.
Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. "I saw you with some girls, didn't want to interrupt," she confessed, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his eyes again.
Luke let out a soft chuckle, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "So you were stalking me, huh?" he teased.
The familiar banter brought a smile to Y/N's face, the tension easing ever so slightly. "I was just watching, sugar," she murmured, the endearment slipping out before she could stop herself.
The moment the words left her lips, Y/N felt a wave of mortification wash over her. She hadn't used that name in three years, and one casual encounter with Luke had her mind instantly reverting to the intimacy of their past. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze, silently willing the ground to open up and swallow her.
Luke, however, seemed to revel in the familiar moniker, his expression softening as a hint of nostalgia flickered across his features.
"It's good to hear you say that again," he admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to gently brush against hers, a spark of electricity crackling between them at the fleeting touch.
The spell was broken by the arrival of Damien, the groom-to-be, who drunkenly stumbled onto Luke, clapping him on the back and pulled him into a boisterous conversation with the group outside.
Fat raindrops pelted against the windows as a rumbling clap of thunder rolled overhead. Y/N stood under the covered porch, watching in amusement as the rest of the group made a mad dash from the beach toward the houses front door.
Taylor was bringing up the rear, squealing as the downpour quickly soaked through her thin t-shirt. She reached the porch last, bangs plastered to her forehead and mascara smudged under her eyes. Shivering, she flung open the door and stumbled inside, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her.
Y/N chuckled and followed Taylor into the cozy entryway. The others were already shaking out their damp hair and peeling off soaked outer layers.
Taylor pouted as a few stray droplets rolled down her neck, then broke into a impish grin. She extended her arms out to her sides, approaching Y/N.
"Don't you dare!" Y/N warned with a laugh, backing away. Her heel caught on a throw rug and she pitched backward, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the hard floor.
Instead, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, catching her against a firm chest. Y/N's eyes fluttered open to find Luke's concerned gaze inches from her own.
His rain-drenched curls were flattened against his forehead and rivulets of water trailed down his chiseled jawline. His chest heaved as he caught his breath from running inside to escape the downpour.
"Whoa there, you okay?" His warm breath fanned across her cheeks. Up close, Y/N caught the scent of his cologne mingling with the fresh, earthy smells of the rainstorm.
Taylor failed to smother a giggle, shaking out her wet hair like a dog. "I think someone could use a towel."
Luke kept his arm looped protectively around Y/N's waist as he shot Taylor a playful glare. "Yeah, if someone hadn't tried drenching her with a bear hug."
Y/N felt her cheeks growing warm as Luke kept his arm looped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. His taut abdomen pressed into her back, and she was hyper-aware of his warm breath fanning across her neck. Y/N forced a laugh. "Exactly, it's all your fault."
"What's with all the racket?" Damien emerged from one of the doorways, tousling his wild, disheveled hair. He smirked at the intimate way Luke was embracing Y/N. "Oh brother, would you two just screw already and get it over with!"
Y/N's eyes went wide at Damien's crude joke, but Luke just chuckled lowly. His thumb stroked an absent-minded circle into her hipbone, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You staying up for a bit?" Luke asked in a low rumble, realizing he still had Y/N enveloped in his arms. "Not tired, Lukey?" She teased back, relaxing against his solid frame.
Luke's chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "I was tired until I saw you again. I think we have some catching up to do." He flashed her a bright, lopsided smile that made her knees go weak.
Taking her hand, Luke led Y/N away from the others down a hallway, throwing a roguish wink over his shoulder at Damien before disappearing around the corner. She held her breath while Luke led her into the sunroom.
It was the epitome of cozy comfort - golden lamps bathed the space in a warm glow, and the large spare bed was piled high with plush blankets and pillows.
Luke started moving towards the inviting bed, but Y/N quickly arched one leg out to block his path. "Ah ah, your shirt is still drenched. You can't get on the bed like that."
He flashed her a roguish grin before grasping the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it smoothly up and over his head in one fluid motion.
Y/N's eyes widened as his toned torso and chiseled abs were revealed. He tossed the soaked shirt aside carelessly and settled onto the bed, leaving a respectable distance between them.
Y/N instantly regretted speaking up. She couldn't believe the casual, unhesitating way he had stripped off his shirt right in front of her, as if they were still intimately involved.
A flush crept up her neck as memories flooded back of when they were dating - she had been an awestruck teenager, hungrily drinking in every newly exposed inch of his body as they learned each other.
Now she was the flustered one, feeling like that bashful girl again as she took in the sight of his muscular build, the breadth of his shoulders tapering down to those abs she used to love tracing with her fingertips...
Y/N swallowed hard as Luke reclined back on the plush bed, muscles rippling underneath tanned skin. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving her an unobstructed view of his chiseled torso and abs.
"See something you like?" Luke's voice was a deep rumble, vibrating straight through Y/N. He arched one brow cockily, the corner of his lips curling into that trademark.
Heat bloomed across Y/N's cheeks as memories of their past intimacies flooded her mind. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. "Don't flatter yourself."
Luke tsked, shaking his head slowly. "Now, now. No need to be shy, gorgeous." He patted the space next to him invitingly. "Why don't you come join me? We have years of catching up to do."
Y/N's pulse fluttered wildly as she wavered, torn between the warmth pooling in her belly and her lingering hurt over how things had ended with Luke. Throwing caution to the wind, she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed, back ramrod straight.
"Relax." Luke's fingertips ghosted along her arm, raising goosebumps. "You're so tense. Come here. Let me help you with that..."
His hands found her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there with strong strokes. Y/N stifled a moan, hating how easily he could still unravel her with his touch alone. She felt him shift closer until his bare chest was a hair's breadth away, the heat radiating off him in waves.
"There, that's better," Luke purred in her ear, his mouth so close she could feel the whisper of his lips against her skin. "Now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed?"
Y/N shivered at the feel of Luke's breath fanning warmly against her neck. She forced herself to remain still, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he made her.
"So," she began, proud that her voice came out stronger than she felt. "Where should we start?”
Y/N stifled a moan as Luke's strong hands kneaded the tense muscles of her shoulders and upper back. She cursed the traitorous shiver that rippled through her at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against her arm.
She had to gather her wits, made difficult by the intoxicating combination of his heated touch and masculine musk surrounding her. "Well, I finally moved out of that cramped apartment into an actual house back in Michigan."
"A home all to yourself?" Luke's hands stilled momentarily, drawing her gaze to the admiring look smoldering in his eyes. "I'm impressed”
His fingertips trailed scorching paths down her arms as he resettled behind her, the solid wall of his chest pressing against her back once more. Y/N bit her lip against the fresh wave of arousal cresting through her.
She pressed on, “anyway the job has been great. Challenging but great. Though I did have a boyfriend for a while in the midst of everything..."
The words had an immediate effect on Luke. His jaw tightened perceptibly and his eyes flashed dangerously, like a wolf catching the scent of a threat. "A boyfriend, huh?" His voice was low and controlled, but Y/N could hear the undercurrent of primal possessiveness.
She nodded, holding his intense gaze. "Yeah, we dated for several months after you...left."
Luke seemed to wrestle with reining in his reaction. When he spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I see. And what became of this...boyfriend?"
Y/N shrugged one shoulder casually, though her pulse was thundering in her ears. "It didn't work out. The passion wasn't really there, at least not on my end."
Luke tsked again, making that infuriatingly sexy sound. At that, some of the tension drained from Luke's frame and a faint smirk played across his lips. "No passion, huh? Can't relate."
His fingers trailed up the side of her neck, sending sparks ricocheting across her sensitized skin. In one smooth motion, he reached out and cupped her jawline, thumb brushing her parted lips. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he murmured, "I missed you every single day, you know."
"I want you back. However, I can have you." His calloused thumb stroked her lower lip as he inched closer, arousal darkening his eyes to a deep black. "Let me make up for lost time..."
Lmk what you think please! Part 2?
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Text
Dandelion Wine
Summary: When Halsin joins Gale and Tav in the bedroom for the first time, they all get more than they bargained for. This is a tale of intimacy, multiple orgasms, and trying new things.
Gale x f!Tav x Halsin; Halsin x f!Tav; Gale x Halsin; Gale x f!Tav
7851 words
Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Smut, M/F, M/M, polyamory, oral sex (f and m receiving), squirting, unprotected PIV, processing trauma, insecurity, discomfort interrupting sex, come eating, so much more
A/N: I think I left a piece of my soul in this fic - let me know if you like it! Comments and reblogs always much appreciated.
--
The first time Halsin joins them, Gale insists that he only wants to watch. Despite being intellectually on board with multiple relationships, he’s worried that his body will remain firmly in the monogamous camp. He loves Tav, and he trusts her with every fiber of his being, but it still feels overwhelming and a bit scary to imagine sharing such a vulnerable experience with anyone other than her. Hells, he still finds himself feeling self-conscious in his most intimate moments with her, through no fault of her own.
Before Halsin arrives, Gale paces back and forth through the room. He and Tav have discussed seemingly every aspect of the situation to death and back, but he still feels like he is about to jump from great heights with no backup parachute.
Tav walks into their room at the inn with an armful of water carafes and fruit. When she sees the tension in Gale’s body, his shoulders nearly at his ears, her smile fades to a look of concern. He’s thankful that it’s not a look of pity – he’s not sure he could handle that at this moment – but a loving glance with worry behind her eyes.
“I’m afraid they’ll charge us extra for damages if you wear a hole in the floor with your pacing.” She sets the drinks and snacks down on the table in the corner and strides over to where he’s now frozen in place.
“I’m sorry, my love. I know that we’ve been planning this for weeks but I can’t help but find myself feeling terribly nervous. Granted, I’m also excited. I want to see how everything will go, but the nerves won’t settle.” Tav brushes a strand of hair out of his face and tucks it behind his ear. He melts into her touch.
“My silly wizard, there is nothing to apologize for. It’s perfectly natural to be both excited and nervous about something, especially something that’s so new to you! In fact, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t nervous at all. This is a big step and no matter how it goes, some things will change. However, I need you to remember that your comfort and security are just as important as mine and Halsin’s, so I need to be sure that you’ll speak up if you want anything to stop or slow down.” Gale sighs and takes her hands into his. His thumb strokes over the soft skin of her knuckles as he ponders his reply.
“I will, I promise. I believe that you and I have practiced enough that I can say what needs to be said in the moment. I know how to stop things and I will do so if necessary.” He brings their hands up to his mouth and places the softest of kisses to each individual knuckle on her left hand. “I don’t want to back out of this if you’re worried about that,” he adds.
“And if you did want to back out, that would be more than fine! There are plenty of other things we could do while we’re here that don’t involve potentially opening partially healed wounds in the name of sexual exploration.” There’s a slight tease in her tone, but he knows she’s sincere. He’s always admired the way that she can still use humor in any situation without taking away from the significance.
“I know, and thank you. I want to reiterate that I want this, I merely need a bit more reassurance than I expected to.”
“Good thing I brought extra, then.” She grins. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over the butterflies in his belly when she looks at him with such kindness and love. She’s the first person – unless you count Tara – that he knows loves him for every aspect of himself and not just his intellect or what he can do for her. Somehow, she looks his flaws right in the face and draws them into her heart.
Just then, there's a knock at the door. Tav doesn't move to answer it yet, searching Gale's face for any minute reaction. “Do you want me to tell him to wait? I need to make sure you're in the right headspace before he comes in.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm okay. I'm ready. I’ll let him in.” Gale places a kiss on Tav’s forehead and glides over to the door. When he opens it and sees the calm and patient smile on the elf’s face, Tav notices how the tension dissolves from his body.
“Gale! You look well!” Halsin claps a hand on Gale’s shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze. A grin spreads across the wizard’s face as his body remembers how calm he tends to feel in Halsin’s presence. There's something about the other man that makes Gale feel secure and cared for, which helps many of his worries dissipate.
“As do you, my friend,” Gale greets him and steps aside to let him stride into the room. Halsin approaches Tav, and Gale is surprised that the look of joy and reverence on her face does not spur jealousy but instead spreads warmth through his chest. He adores being on the receiving end of such a look, and he is glad to find that he loves it all the same no matter who brought that look to her face.
Halsin towers over Tav, resting the heel of his hand on her collarbone so that his fingers brush the side of her neck and his thumb can trace the shape of her jaw. “My heart,” he purrs, locking eyes with her as if gazing into her very soul.
She presses her palm against his chest and feels his heart beating strongly beneath her touch. She’s always amazed how he can remain so calm in the face of anything, so in tune with his own body that his control never seems to falter. Her eyes drift closed and he kisses her forehead, unknowingly mirroring the movements of her other lover moments ago.
“My bear.” She melts into him as he caresses the nape of her neck.
Gale watches them from the other side of the room and begins to feel a twinge of something in his gut. They look so happy and he can’t help but notice the way their bodies fit so well together and how natural their every movement looks. He sighs, lost in thought as his mind begins to drift toward the pattern of worry that had plagued him earlier. He’s sure that he wants to do this – wants to give Tav and Halsin a chance to let their intimacy blossom – but he can’t stop the complicated feelings swirling through him like smoke from smoldering embers.
Gale moves past them to make himself comfortable in the overstuffed armchair across from the bed. His arms rest awkwardly at his sides as he watches Halsin’s mouth cover Tav’s. She groans into the kiss, pressing herself firmly into the elf’s hold. Gale’s stirring anxieties and jealousies are interrupted by the slightest twitch of interest from his cock when he sees Halsin’s large hand spread across her ass and press her pelvis into his.
When Tav pulls away from the kiss, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed, she lets out a deep sigh. The look of longing on Halsin's face is intoxicating and she can't believe that it's for her. She smiles up at him, arousal stirring deep within her. Before she gets lost in him, she knows she must check in with her wizard.
She pats Halsin’s chest once before setting her sights on Gale, biting her lip in an attempt to stop her from overthinking. Crawling into Gale’s lap, she puts her knees on either side of his hips and drapes her arms around his neck. Her eyes bounce back and forth between his before dotting a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Are you sure that you want this?” she asks. She can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “There's still time to change your mind.”
The nervousness on his face softens a bit as he does his best to read the look his partner is giving him. “I do want this, Tav. I want you to have fun.” He smiles.
“I want you to enjoy it too, though.” She twirls a strand of his hair around her finger as she scans his face for signs of discomfort.
“I will. I get to watch two of my favorite people get lost in each other in a way they haven't before.” His hands rest against her ribs, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of her shirt in reassurance.
As she leans in close, her breath tickling the shell of his ear, he can’t resist moving his hands down to settle on her hips.
“Are you sure you just want to watch?” She nips at his earlobe and his fingers reflexively dig into her sides. She grins when she feels him begin to harden against her inner thigh, and Gale swallows heavily but nods.
“For now, yes.” She pulls back just far enough to catch his gaze and strokes her thumb across his cheekbone. He does his best to convey sincerity in his smile, his gaze refusing to waver.
“If at any point you change your mind, don’t hesitate to jump in.” She smirks. Tav scrapes her fingernails along the stubble of his beard on the underside of his jaw as she stands up, reveling in the blown pupils that stare up at her. She feels a hand snake around her waist and warmth envelop her as Halsin steps up behind her. He sets his chin on Tav’s shoulder and gazes down at the other man with a look that Gale can't quite place.
“Yes, please join in the fun if you feel at all inclined.” Halsin’s low, husky tone sends a shiver through Tav and to her core, but Gale feels it too. He can’t deny the way the sensual quality of Halsin’s voice affects him. Gale's eyes shift between their eager faces, and he nods.
“I certainly will, should the desire arise.” His smile is soft and genuine despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. Gale places his hand over Halsin’s on Tav’s hip and the two men share an understanding and intimate look.
Halsin pulls Tav back against him and begins peppering open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and shoulder. She strokes her thumb lovingly over the back of Gale’s hand as she feels herself melt into the elf’s hold. Arousal already blooming in her center, she spins in his arms and tangles her fingers into Halsin’s luscious locks. She crashes her lips against his with force. He takes short steps backwards toward the bed, dragging Tav along with him, his long fingers splayed across her lower back. Tav moans as she feels Halsin’s erection growing harder, chasing his pelvis with hers. He plops down onto the bed and pulls her immediately into his lap.
Gale’s eyes flit over the two of them and to each spot where their bodies touch, his mind attempting to process and catalogue all of the thoughts and sensations that run through him. Just moments ago, it had been his lap that she ground herself into. He could still feel the lingering warmth of her where she had pressed herself into him, and his fingers flex in response as if grabbing onto her. Watching Halsin’s mouth latch onto her throat, Gale groans at the sound that escapes her lips. His cock is more insistently calling for his attention, but he wants to wait until his head is on straight before addressing it.
Halsin pulls Tav’s top over her head and growls at the sight of her bare breasts hanging heavily in front of his face. His teeth skate across the skin of her chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, causing her to throw her head back in pleasure. Gale’s eyes darken as Halsin kneads her other breast roughly and she drags her clothed core over the large bulge in the front of his pants.
After a few moments of heavy petting, Halsin suddenly stands up, forcing Tav upright with him, and turns them around so that he can push her backwards onto the bed. She lays back and watches him through her lashes as he undoes the laces on her bottoms and pulls them off of her. Gale can’t help but groan as he sees her wetness glistening deliciously in the dim light when her thighs drift apart for the elf.
“My dear magic man, I have no idea how you ever leave that tower of yours when you have a woman this delectable in your bed.” Tav’s breath catches in her throat as Halsin gently caresses her bare thighs with his calloused fingers. He kneads the soft, supple skin there, licking his lips at the sight of her spread out before him. Eager to feel her skin against his, Halsin strips himself bare without much fanfare. Before he does anything more, he turns to address the man across the room: “What do you think, Gale, should I give her my tongue or my fingers first?”
Another groan escapes Gale’s lips and he presses the heel of his hand down into his growing erection, trying to relieve some of the tension and overcome the arousal that threatens to overtake him. “She prefers– t-tongue,” he answers, his voice nearly failing him.
When Halsin suddenly drops to his knees at the end of the bed, pulls Tav to the edge, and slides his tongue through her folds from hole to clit, Gale stops fighting the temptation and shoves his hand in his trousers to wrap around his needy cock. He knows how sweet she tastes and finds he loves getting to watch Halsin finally experience what he's long fantasized about.
Tav gasps at the immense pleasure of her lover’s practiced tongue as Halsin continues to work her over. He presses his face into her cunt like he'll never be able to get enough and sucks her clit into his mouth. It feels so good that she could pen sonnets, if only her brain were able to form words.
Her breaths come shallow and quick as he flicks the tip of his tongue over her sensitive bud, and Gale’s fist tightens painfully around his cock, still resisting the urge to stroke himself. He had expected it to eat him alive to see the love of his life squirming in pleasure on someone else's tongue, but he finds that he relishes taking notice of all of Tav’s subtle, delicious reactions to the way Halsin devours her.
Halsin hums and looks up at Tav from between her legs. Her eyelids are heavy and her mouth hangs open, unable to focus on anything but the delectable onslaught between her thighs. “How’s our wizard doing?” he asks her as his pointer finger teases around her slick entrance. He continues to lap at her wetness with his flattened tongue, but his eyes are watching her face. Her head lolls to the side, she looks over at Gale, and her breath catches at the sight of him.
Gale’s face is flushed, redness spread across his cheekbones, and his jaw is clenched. While one hand is shoved deep into his pants, shaking as he tries to hold back from pleasing himself, the other is balled up tightly against his thigh. He looks like he's halfway to being drunk but still wound so tight that he could easily snap.
“Good,” Gale answers before Tav can, his voice tight. Halsin glances his way and finally notices the way Gale is restraining himself. While holding eye contact with the other man, Halsin thrusts two fingers into Tav in one quick, smooth motion. Gale sees her body tense at the surprise of the pleasant intrusion and a shudder runs through him.
“You like what you see?” the druid asks, cocking an eyebrow. Gale nods and pink flushes up his neck and to his ears. Halsin flashes him a smile. “You don't have to hold back, you know.” Gale looks between them, assessing. “Even if you don't join us physically, we want you to be a part of things.” Gale is so turned on but his skin prickles with self-consciousness as their attention is directed at him. Tav props herself up on her elbows to get a better look while Halsin continues to stretch her open with his thick digits.
“Can I at least see what you're doing over there, my love?” Her mouth is agape from the pleasure coursing through her. Her words paired with the blissed-out, eager look on her face is enough to give Gale the confidence he needs to make himself more comfortable.
Tav watches, enraptured, as he stands from the chair and begins to remove his clothes. Despite his shyness, with two gorgeous sets of eyes on him, he takes his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. The way neither of them can take their eyes off of every sliver of skin he reveals has him feeling powerful in ways he never expected.
As the fabric of his shirt pools on the floor at his feet, his fingers move to the laces on the front of his trousers. After they're unlaced, he slips his thumbs into the waistband and pauses as if considering his next move. Tav licks her lips in anticipation and Gale shoots her a small smirk before shucking them off in one motion. His aching cock springs free and stands at attention, though he suddenly feels a bit vulnerable and overexposed.
Tav notices the shift in his expression and sits up, ready to go to him, but Halsin speaks first. “Oak Father preserve me…” he sighs. “Aren't you a sight to behold?” Gale blushes at the praise and Tav settles back again, smiling at the way a flush of pink blooms through his chest. “Will you come over here so I can get a better look at you?”
Gale nods shyly and takes a few steps to approach where Halsin is crouched next to the bed. His eyes scan the scene before him: the light sheen of sweat glimmering on Halsin's skin, the slick wetness covering the fingers of his right hand where they pump in and out of Tav, and the thick heavy cock that juts out between Halsin's tree trunk thighs.
Gale's never been with a man before, but he thinks that if he'd met more men like Halsin, that may not have been the case. He salivates wondering what it might taste like to have the druid on his tongue. Would he be sweet and tangy like Tav? Wet and earthy like the forest after a rain shower? He longs to find out but isn't quite sure if he's ready yet. Feeling brave, he reaches out to brush a sweaty piece of hair off Halsin's forehead and the larger man brushes a kiss against the inside of Gale's wrist.
Gale turns his head toward Tav in an attempt to hide his blush from the man who caused it. She gives him a soft, encouraging smile but he's distracted by the continued movement of Halsin's fingers. Gale watches how they curl and rub inside of Tav and he reaches out to draw circles around her clit with his thumb.
“It's awfully difficult to look but not touch,” Gale explains, and Halsin chuckles.
“I know what you mean… Just look at the state of you.” Halsin nods to where Gale's cock twitches in delight, a bead of arousal escaping from the tip.
Gale feels like his brain short-circuits as it floods with images of the elf’s hands all over him. He wants it, wants it so bad he can hardly think of anything else, but the analytical side of his brain is whirring away, trying to figure out what it all means.
“You– you can touch me,” Gale whispers. Tav clenches around Halsin's fingers in anticipation and surprise, and she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
“Are you sure, Gale? It's only enjoyable if you really want it.” Halsin looks up at the wizard and attempts to read the look on his face. Gale looks nervous and pent up beyond belief, and Halsin knows he has to be prepared for a sudden change of heart. He won't deny the man what he wants, he'll simply make the environment as comfortable and conducive to experimentation as he can.
“I want you to touch me.” Gale pulls his hand away from Tav and sets it on Halsin's shoulder for stability. Halsin nods with a smile.
Halsin scissors his fingers inside Tav to coat them in her slick before he pulls them out of her. Gale watches his every movement and his throat tightens as he sees Halsin's hand, covered in her juices, moving in his direction. His eyes grow wide as he realizes what Halsin is going to do right before Halsin wraps his lubricated hand around Gale's shaft.
The warmth and wetness is overwhelming and Gale goes rigid. It feels so good and yet so foreign to have Halsin's hand on him that he's worried he might explode. His eyes slam closed and his grip on the elf’s shoulder tightens until his fingernails threaten to break skin as Halsin slowly strokes Gale's cock.
But it's too much.
He isn't ready. He wants to backtrack.
Halsin immediately picks up on the shift in Gale's demeanor and pulls his hand away.
“I'm sorry, I–” Gale stammers and Halsin pats his hip in reassurance. Tav sits up and takes one of Gale's hands in hers.
“There is no need for apologies,” Halsin replies, “It was too much too fast.” Gale nods and refuses to look at either of them, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“We can stop,” Tav adds, pressing a kiss to Gale's palm. He jerks his head to look at her.
“No! No, don't stop. I merely bit off more than I could chew for a moment, but please continue. I only need a moment, and then I want to watch you unravel for him.” Gale's eyes darken as he looks between the other two and Halsin’s cock throbs at his words.
“Then let's take a moment to ground ourselves and breathe,” Halsin suggests. He rests one hand on Tav’s thigh and the other hangs at his side, wanting to comfort Gale but not wanting to overwhelm him.
Tav’s fingertips delicately trace over the lines traversing Gale's palm. Gale closes his eyes and focuses only on her calming touch and his breathing. His other hand still rests on Halsin's shoulder, giving him a sense of stability. He finds himself wanting a comforting touch from the elf as well, but doesn't trust his body's reaction to the sensation.
As the three of them sit in silence, a tangle of soft intimate touches, Gale's breathing begins to slow. He tunes out the worries and focuses on the connection that he feels between them. Opening his eyes, he catches Tav’s gaze and a soft smile tugs at his lips. His thumb rubs over Halsin's shoulder before he moves it to cradle Tav’s face. Gale presses his forehead to hers and they melt into each other for a moment.
“I love you,” Gale murmurs. His lips find hers for a soft, lingering kiss that manages to communicate a sense of both trust and longing.
“I love you,” Tav replies. Foreheads pressed together, they stare into each other's eyes for a moment and take it all in.
Gale presses his mouth to hers again, gentle and chaste, before he turns back to Halsin. “Show her just what a powerful archdruid is capable of.” He shoots the other man a wink, claps him on the back, and starts to pad over to his chair.
“As you wish,” Halsin growls and presses his face into the junction of Tav’s thighs. She yelps in surprise as his tongue plunges between her folds, and she grabs the elf’s hair for support. Halsin wastes no time shoving three fingers into her tight, dripping pussy and her hips jerk against his face. His assault is relentless and she knows she won't last long as he fills her with his fingers and worships her clit with his tongue.
Gale groans at the delightful sounds that spill from her throat as he watches Tav squirm. A loud squelching fills the room as Halsin fucks her with his thick fingers. She's babbling, hardly able to string coherent sounds together, as the nerves throughout her body thrum with pleasure. As he alternates between open-mouthed kisses to her vulva and his tongue frantically flicking over her aching clit, he curls his fingers back toward himself inside her to rub harshly over the spot that makes her see stars. Her knees nearly give out as the dam suddenly breaks and she's coming.
A broken sob escapes from Tav as her whole body curls inward and her walls spasm around Halsin's fingers. Her juices spill over his chin and his hand and he just can't get enough. She's so wet and so sweet that it may as well be honey that gushes over his tongue as he laps up everything she gives him.
Gale's cock leaks as he watches the larger man nearly drown in the ecstasy that flows from Tav, and he digs his fingertips into the arms of the chair in an attempt to maintain his composure. As much as he wants to touch and be touched, he finds he takes immense pleasure in watching her fall apart. His favorite part of being intimate with Tav is getting to witness the way her composure crumbles when she's reached a certain point. In most areas of her life, she's so put together and eloquent that it's a special privilege to see her in such a raw state when she's hardly more than a babbling mess.
The sounds Halsin makes are animalistic as he works Tav through her climax. He's so engulfed in her that he thinks he'd crawl inside her if he could, just to feel her over every inch of him. When she gets too sensitive to handle his mouth on her anymore, she tugs on his hair to drag him back up to his feet. Immediately, his mouth is on hers as he guides her back toward the bed.
Something in Halsin has snapped and his gentle, loving caresses have been replaced with raw, primal need. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue does something similar to Tav and her hands are everywhere, needing to map every inch of him.
She pants hard, trying to catch her breath from an intense orgasm, as his body covers hers on the bed. His fingers tangle in her hair and he grips tightly, desperate to hold her close. His mouth moves from her lips to her jaw to her neck, kissing and sucking at every spot of skin in his reach. Her fingertips dig into his back, trying impossibly to bring him closer to her. She needs to touch him, taste him, feel him, but it's not enough.
Tav reaches between Halsin's legs and wraps her hand around his aching cock. Halsin growls at the sensation, his face buried in her neck. His hips thrust forward on their own accord, seeking more as she grips him and slides her soft palm over his sensitive shaft.
“Need to be inside you,” Halsin grunts, his careful composure gone for the moment.
“Please,” Tav whines, begging for him to fill her.
Gale spits into his hand, deciding that he'll give in and stroke himself at the moment Halsin's beautiful cock sinks into the tight wetness of Tav’s pussy.
Tav moves to guide Halsin to her center but she doesn't move fast enough for the desperate elf, so he reaches between them to grip himself tightly and line himself up with her hole, coating the head in her slick. He looks into her eyes, about to ask for confirmation, but she nods frantically and wraps her legs around the backs of his thighs, drawing him in.
The world melts around Halsin for a moment as he plunges into the depths of pleasure. Her warm wetness engulfs him and his senses, blocking out any coherent thought. Driven by primal instinct, he begins to thrust into her hard and fast.
Gale grips his desperate cock and imagines that it's Tav’s cunt squeezing him rather than his own spit-soaked hand. He matches his strokes to the rhythm of Halsin's thrusts and it feels like a thunderstorm is brewing under his skin. He watches the giant elf’s broad, sweaty body as his thick cock impales the woman Gale loves. All uncertainty leaves him when he sees the look of ecstasy and desperation on her face – Gale knows what she needs and he revels in the gasps and whimpers she makes as she gets it.
Tav grips Halsin’s hair in a tight fist, digs the fingernails of her left hand into the meat of his tricep, and cries out at the slight sting and immense pleasure of her overfilled cunt taking everything it’s given. She’s chanting fuck , and please , and yes over and over as Halsin pounds into her.
He’s so close, unable to handle much more as his nerves crackle at the energy between them. His heart is pounding so hard he can hear the blood rushing in his ears alongside the sound of flesh striking flesh and the wet suction of Tav’s cunt trying to hold him deep inside.
Between heavy breaths, Halsin groans, “Gonna come – Where?” Gale’s hand is moving frantically up and down his cock, adding his own slapping sounds to the mix, as he hurtles toward his own climax. He can't stop watching the way Halsin's length disappears inside her as her walls grip him.
“Inside me!” Tav cries out and the desperate desire in her voice pushes both Gale and Halsin over the edge. Halsin shoves himself as deep into her depths as he can, and he paints her insides with his seed. At the same moment, Gale’s balls tighten and his hand stills as ropes of come spurt from his cock to paint his abdomen.
The sensation of Halsin’s cock pulsing and filling her sends Tav into her second climax as she spasms dramatically around him. Her cunt squeezes him tight, milking every drop it can get from him. Tav’s thighs quiver and her body shakes under him as the waves of pleasure course through her and come out of her mouth as wanton moans.
Gale's head drops back against the back of the chair as he tries to catch his breath. He holds his slowly-softening manhood and tries not to think about the mess he's made of his lap.
Halsin peppers kisses all over Tav’s face and chest as she comes down from her high, and once she catches her breath, she loosens her grip on his hair and kisses him passionately. They're both sweaty and flushed and a bit sore, but they're lost in each other for a short while. She pushes back the hair plastered to Halsin's forehead and he looks at her with such love and adoration that her heart could burst. After a few long moments drinking each other in, Halsin looks over at Gale before turning back to Tav.
“Let me go check on Gale, my heart.” The druid strokes her cheek and places a quick kiss to the corner of her dopey smile. She nods and allows her limbs to fall to the bed like dead weight, letting the normal sensations slowly return back to her body.
Gale lifts his head and watches as Halsin pulls out of her with a wince and stands. He looks at Gale with softness and a touch of mischief in his eyes as he approaches. Halsin stands over the other man and assesses the scene in front of him: his flushed cheeks, his chest glistening with sweat, the sticky mess clinging to his skin.
Gale's cheeks burn as he mistakes the look in Halsin's eyes for judgment rather than interest. “I seem to have made a bit of a mess of myself,” he tells the elf with a self-conscious chuckle.
“That you have,” Halsin hums. “Is that why you blush, handsome wizard?” Gale looks down at the floor, avoiding Halsin's gaze. There are so many thoughts and feelings going through his head and he can’t quite grasp how to process or articulate them. Halsin puts a finger under Gale's chin and tips his face so that he looks up at him. “Are you embarrassed to have enjoyed yourself?” Gale swallows heavily.
Tav is tempted to listen to their conversation but stays out of it, happily giving them as much privacy as she can without moving. Her eyelids are getting heavy, and she can feel sleep call to her.
“Perhaps.” Gale's voice is quiet and he picks at a loose thread on the arm of the chair.
“Oh, Gale,” Halsin says. “You don't have anything to be embarrassed about.” This gets Gale to look up to him, though he looks incredulous.
“Don't I? Aren't I supposed to feel possessive over my partner? What kind of man am I to get pleasure from watching her be taken and claimed by another? Shouldn't I feel discomfort? Shouldn’t I want to intervene?” His mind is racing and the words are spilling out before he can filter them. Insecurities from his past begin to bubble up and, though he tries, he can’t cast them aside anymore.
Halsin smiles gently. “It would seem that you're the kind of man who enjoys seeing your love be happy and fulfilled. Did you feel discomfort?”
Gale pauses before answering, carefully considering and taking inventory of his mind. “I did feel discomfort at first, when I was thinking about it. I was worried about how I’d react once things started happening. I know that no matter how much you mentally prepare for something, you can never truly know what you’ll do until you’re in the situation. However, once you were here and it was real, I felt much calmer. I couldn’t help but to get aroused and that overrode my thinking, which allowed me to enjoy the experience and lean into the pleasure.” Halsin mulls over Gale’s words, contemplating their meaning. He knows that ultimately, Gale’s philosophies and morals come from very different sources from his own, and he takes that into consideration as he ponders how to frame his response.
“I believe that nature itself gave us the capability to be complex and ever-changing beings, and that includes every facet of our sexuality. Whether we’re monogamous or opposed to it, or somewhere in between, is deeply personal and potentially dynamic. It’s natural to fall anywhere on that spectrum, and it’s natural for your needs and wants to shift based on circumstances. If you enjoyed yourself, and everyone involved both fully consented and enjoyed themselves, why should there be shame? What purpose would that shame serve?”
Gale sits in silence for a moment as he processes. He thinks deeply, his thoughts branching off into a thousand different directions as he tries to break it down like any other intellectual endeavor. Some parts are quick to click into place in his mind, while others are more difficult to understand and internalize. “I can concede that you make some very good points, but I have to wonder about others. In the past, with Mystra, she sought other lovers and I did not enjoy that in the slightest. Why would that be different now? Could the difference be that I somehow love Tav less than I did Mystra? That I feel less afraid to lose her and thus am less emotionally reactive?”
Halsin can’t help but chuckle that someone with such an immense breadth of knowledge can be so disconnected from the inner workings of his own mind. “Oh, Gale. You wizards certainly do enjoy overcomplicating things, don't you? Could it not instead mean that you’re less afraid to lose her because you feel secure in your relationship with Tav, whereas with Mystra you did not?”
Gale ponders that, his mind running through the different instances when Mystra found pleasure in the arms of another and comparing them to the instances when he'd discussed the same with Tav. “With Mystra, it wasn't a conversation or a choice. She told me that was how it was going to be and who was I to argue with my goddess? Her word was final and if I wanted to be with her, I had to find a way to deal with her decisions on my own–”
“I think you know that's not how a partnership is meant to be.” Halsin’s response is curt and leaves little room for argument, which manages to trigger Gale’s deep-seeded reflex to defend Mystra. He stops himself, however, as he recognizes what is happening and it surprises him.
“I suppose intellectually, I do.” Gale sighs and continues, “Things with Mystra were also different in that I was not allowed the same courtesy. While I may not have wanted to be with anyone other than her, the fact of the matter is that I would have never been allowed to be. That is, as you’re well aware, not the case with Tav.”
“Indeed, and I think those differences are enough to make this an entirely different situation. Do you?”
Gale takes in Halsin’s words and the comforting, understanding look in his eyes, and he nods. He respects the druid’s judgment, knowing it comes from many years of experience. The way he’s explained it allows the rational side of Gale’s brain to connect with the emotional side. Halsin knows what he’s talking about.
“Is there someone else you'd like to be with now, Gale?” Halsin asks tentatively.
Gale sucks in a sharp breath and looks back up at Halsin. He’s somehow surprised that the conversation has taken this turn and, despite everything he’s just bared to the other man, he tries to steel himself against the impulse to hide or deflect. He shies away from the feeling of Halsin gazing into his soul and closes his eyes before answering, “I– I’d like to be with you, Halsin. Or at least give it a try.”
The room is silent for a moment and Gale opens his eyes again. A soft smile spreads across the druid’s face in response as he takes in how open and exposed the wizard looks. Not even taking into account the fact that he’s sitting naked in front of him, the look on Gale's face is one of pure vulnerability. It’s clear that it’s not easy for him to put himself out there like this.
“I had hoped you'd say that, Gale Dekarios.” Halsin caresses the stubble on Gale's jawline with his thumb, basking in the way his eyes sparkle as he looks up at the taller man.
“You did?” Gale’s voice sounds surprised.
“Of course I did,” Halsin chuckles. He crouches down to bring himself to Gale’s level, at least physically, and gazes intently into the man's eyes. “I may have to question your wisdom if you claim to be unaware of my attraction to you.”
Gale can’t help but laugh, blushing furiously but thankful that the other man has lightened the moment. His gentle teasing breaks the tension, much like when Tav does the same. “I suppose I can admit that I've noticed some signals from you.” He glances away, feeling exposed in the intensity of Halsin's gaze, before continuing, “In my defense, you are such an open, comfortable, and confident man that it can be difficult to discern what is genuine interest and what is just you being, well, you.”
He reaches out to touch the larger man but hesitates as he isn’t sure where to start. When Halsin grins, Gale brushes the tip of his thumb over his bottom lip, marveling at how it feels to touch him while the broad elf looks at him with adoration and hunger. His lip is soft and plush, and Gale wants to feel it everywhere. Halsin purses his lips and kisses the pad of Gale’s thumb, causing the human’s breath to catch in his throat. “Kiss me,” Gale whispers.
Of course, Halsin immediately obliges. Before the words are fully out of his mouth, Halsin runs his fingers through Gale's soft waves and presses his palm against the back of his head. Halsin gently guides Gale's face toward his, slow enough to give him plenty of chances to change his mind and pull away, and presses his lips against the lips of the younger man.
Gale kisses him back sweetly and then not-so-sweetly, as his mouth drifts open to allow Halsin to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips over Gale's tongue, massaging the strong muscle. Gale tastes Tav’s juices on Halsin's tongue and it stirs something in him. His hands begin scrabbling for purchase, desperate to get a good grip and pull the elf closer, nearly dragging Halsin into his lap. He hungers for him, eager to explore every nook and cranny of Halsin's mouth with his tongue.
Gale's breathing is ragged as the two men get lost in each other. They move to stand to get closer to one another, and Gale shudders at the way Halsin's hand nearly dwarfs his face when it cups his jaw. The smaller man's fingertips dig into the elf's thick biceps as he fails to resist grinding their hips together.
Halsin's pupils are blown wide as he takes in the uncharacteristic neediness of the wizard. He wants so badly to make the less experienced man feel good, so he slides down to his knees and gazes up at Gale.
Gale lets out another shuddering breath as he attempts to process the scene in front of him: he's seen Tav in this position countless times and it never gets old, but the novelty of seeing a powerful archdruid on his knees for him is nearly overwhelming.
“May I?” Halsin asks softly after what feels like ages. Unable to trust his voice, Gale meekly nods.
Halsin runs his hands up Gale's thighs, callused fingers catching on the soft hair there, and places a single kiss on Gale's pelvic crest. He looks up at the brunette to gauge his reaction and the reverent look on his face encourages Halsin to continue. He leaves gentle pecks across Gale's soft belly, undeterred by the partially-dry spendings that coat his skin. Halsin drags his tongue across a particularly bountiful river of Gale’s spend before sucking it into his mouth, delighting in the taste of his essence. He continues to suck at the skin there, leaving a mark on the flesh, just a hair west of where Gale needs his mouth the most. Gale’s wound so tightly that Halsin can feel the tension where he touches him as he continues to place teasing kisses across the wizard’s navel and groin.
“Please,” Gale whines and Halsin’s cock jumps at the sound. The elf’s mouth hovers over the other man’s length, his hot breath caressing Gale’s hardness. The man’s hands rest on Halsin’s shoulders but clench into fists as he tries to resist pulling Halsin’s face closer.
Prolonging the torture, Halsin’s hands dance across Gale’s skin until they settle over his hips. Halsin locks eyes with Gale, smirking, and just as the desperate man is about to beg him to do something, anything , he slips Gale’s aching cock into his mouth in one fluid motion. The tension in Gale’s muscles doubles as his senses are overloaded with pleasure. Halsin’s mouth is hot and wet as he sucks Gale down until his nose is pressed into Gale’s coarse brown curls. The wizard’s legs nearly give out as his body begins to relax in response to the chorus of wondrous sensations.
Gale lets out a stream of curses under his breath as Halsin’s mouth begins to move over him. His tongue slides along the underside of Gale’s cock and the less experienced man can’t help but tangle his fingers into the druid’s long hair. He begins babbling, narrating the sensations he’s feeling and heaping praise onto the kneeling man, when he sees Tav stir out of the corner of his eye. Not wanting to wake her, he digs his front teeth into his lip to keep his voice at bay, but the monologue of nonsense continues to run through his head.
Halsin bobs his head, licking and sucking Gale like a man starved, and Gale’s hips begin moving on their own accord. He takes everything Gale is willing to give him as he works the wizard over, and he doesn’t even flinch when Gale suddenly thrusts forward, tenses, and spurts come down his throat. The elf slows his movements, greedily swallowing every drop that the other man releases and working Gale through his peak.
As Gale becomes to sensitive to handle the sensation anymore, Halsin pulls his mouth off of him but otherwise makes no attempt to move from his position. Gale breathes deeply, grounding himself by running his fingers through the druid’s soft yet tangled hair. Halsin moves to stand, caressing Gale’s sides as he does so. The room quiet around them, they stand in comfortable silence for a few moments and just breathe. Gale’s fingers are still in Halsin’s hair, Halsin’s hands rest on Gale’s hips as if stabilizing him, and they gaze into each other’s eyes. Gale doesn’t know what to say, simultaneously wanting to process everything and not wanting his mind to drift away from the current moment.
“I think it’s time to get some rest,” Halsin suggests.
“But what about you? Do you want me to return the favor?” Gale asks, his mind suddenly trying to fill in his understanding of the expected etiquette of the situation. Halsin chuckles and strokes the wizard’s cheek.
“We can save that for next time. Right now, I think Tav’s got the right idea.” They both glance over to where she lays, nude and sprawled across the bed, only one leg under the covers. An adoring smile creeps over Gale’s face as he watches her shift in her sleep. He turns back to Halsin and his eyes flit over the elf’s face, carefully cataloging every freckle, dimple, and wrinkle.
“Let me get cleaned up and then I’ll join you two,” Gale says, tipping his head in the direction of the bed.
“Will you stay?” Gale’s voice is quiet, but no longer shrouded in uncertainty. Halsin brings his hands up to the wizard’s face and smiles.
“I’d like that.” Halsin presses a gentle kiss to the other man’s lips, and Gale’s surprised at how natural it feels. Gale knows that at some point, likely the next day, his mind will take over and need to analyze every aspect of the situation, but for the moment, he feels safe and desired and loved.
Halsin smiles and caresses Gale's jaw with his thumbs. “Take your time, we’ll make sure there’s room for you.”
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jackles010378 · 1 day
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Love Beyond the Badge ❤️
Beau Arlen x y/n
No warnings needed just pure fluff! 🥰
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The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of orange and purple as Beau Arlen leaned against the hood of his truck 'pedro', the metal cool under his arms. The day had been long, the kind that tested a man’s spirit, and it was in these quiet moments that his thoughts drifted to his deputy, Y/N.
He heard the crunch of gravel and turned to see Y/N approaching, her silhouette framed by the fading light. “Evening, Sheriff,” she greeted, her voice steady as ever.
“Evening, Deputy,” Beau replied, pushing off from the truck. He hesitated, a battle raging within. The dream he had the night before flashed in his mind, vivid and stirring. It was unprofessional, perhaps even foolish, but the truth clawed at him with an urgency he couldn’t ignore.
“Y/N, can we talk? Off the record?” he asked, his tone more serious than she was used to.
She nodded, curiosity lighting her eyes. “Of course, Beau. What’s on your mind?”
He took a deep breath, the words he’d rehearsed suddenly clumsy on his tongue. “I had a dream last night,” he started, “about you. It was… it was more real than any dream I’ve ever had. And when I woke up, I realized that it wasn’t just a dream. It was how I truly felt.”
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and something else Beau couldn’t quite place. “Beau, I—”
“I know we have our duties, our responsibilities,” he continued, cutting across the space between them. “But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s not just respect or camaraderie. It’s more than that, and I think… I think you might feel it too.”
There was a pause, the world holding its breath. Then, softly, Y/N spoke. “I do. I’ve felt it for a while now, but I never thought—”
“That it could be mutual?” Beau finished for her, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
She nodded, stepping closer. “We have a lot to figure out, Beau. But yes, it’s mutual.”
The confession hung in the air, a fragile truth that promised to change everything. Beau reached out, his hand brushing against hers, an electric connection that felt like the first piece of a new beginning.
Flashback:
The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the promise of winter. Beau Arlen had been the sheriff of Helena for just over a year now, a position he took with a mix of pride and solemnity. The town was small, but it had its troubles, and Beau was determined to be the steadfast hand that guided it.
It was on a day like any other that he first met Y/N. He was at the local diner, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, when the bell above the door jingled. In walked a young woman, her posture confident, her gaze scanning the room like she was taking in every detail.
Beau’s curiosity was piqued. He watched as she approached the counter, exchanged a few words with the owner, and then turned to survey the diner. Their eyes met, and Beau felt a jolt of recognition, though they had never met before.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” Beau called out, standing up.
She walked over, her hand extended. “I’m Y/N, the new deputy in town. I was told I could find Sheriff Arlen here.”
Beau took her hand, the firm handshake speaking volumes of her character. “That would be me,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to Helena.”
They sat down, and over cups of coffee, they talked about law, order, and the quiet life of a small town. Beau was impressed by her experience, her insight, and the way she seemed genuinely interested in making a difference.
“I’m looking forward to working with you, Sheriff,” Y/N said as they parted ways that day. “I think we’ll make a good team.”
Present day:
And they did. Over time, they became a unit, a duo that the town came to respect and rely on. But as they worked side by side, the seeds of something more began to take root, something that went beyond badges and duty.
After the day they acknowledged their mutual feelings, they decided to step beyond the boundaries of work and explore the possibility of a personal connection. Beau wanted to make their first date special.
The Montana sky was a canvas of stars as Beau picked up Y/N from her modest home on the outskirts of Helena. The air was filled with the scent of sagebrush and anticipation. Beau had chosen a quiet spot by the lake, away from the prying eyes of the town, where they could talk freely.
Y/N stepped out, her usual uniform replaced by a simple dress that fluttered in the evening breeze. Beau couldn’t help but notice the way it made her eyes shine brighter than any star above them.
“Ready for an adventure?” Beau asked, offering his arm.
Y/N smiled, taking his arm. “With you? Always.”
They drove in comfortable silence, the familiar hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. When they arrived, Beau led Y/N to a clearing where he had set up a picnic. A checkered blanket was spread out, and candles flickered in mason jars, casting a warm glow.
They sat down, and Beau handed her a plate filled with homemade sandwiches, apple pie from the local bakery, and a thermos of hot chocolate. They talked about everything and nothing, laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night.
As the night deepened, Beau took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’ve been a sheriff for a long time. I thought I knew what it meant to protect and serve. But being with you, it’s like I’m seeing the world anew.”
Y/N reached across the blanket, her hand covering his. “Beau, I’ve always admired you, respected you. But this,” she gestured around them, “it feels like we’re discovering a new part of life, together.”
They leaned back, watching the stars, their hands entwined. The night was peaceful, a gentle reminder that sometimes the most significant moments come when you step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown.
2 year time skip:
The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, the sun casting a golden glow over the town of Helena. The ceremony was set in the open expanse of the countryside, where the mountains stood as silent witnesses to the union.
Y/N stood in front of a full-length mirror, her wedding dress a masterpiece of lace and love, tailored to echo the strength and grace she carried herself with. Her badge was pinned close to her heart, a symbol of her commitment to her town and her soon-to-be husband.
Beau, dressed in a suit, waited at the altar, his heart full. The guests were a mix of townsfolk, family, and friends from near and far, all gathered to celebrate the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.
As Y/N walked down the aisle, the world seemed to stand still. Beau’s eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, they knew that every challenge, every shared glance, and every quiet support had led them here.
The ceremony was heartfelt, with vows that were more than just words. They were promises etched into their very beings, pledges of partnership in life and in the pursuit of justice.
“I, Y/N, take you, Beau, to be my partner in life, to stand by your side, to share in your laughter and your silence, to always seek the truth with you, and to uphold the law of love above all else,” Y/N vowed, her voice unwavering.
“And I, Beau, take you, Y/N, to be my partner in life, to honor our badge and our bond, to face each day with you with courage and compassion, and to always keep our love as my guiding light,” Beau promised, his words a solemn oath.
The exchange of rings was not just a formality but a sealing of their fates, intertwined and unbreakable. And when they were pronounced husband and wife, the applause that rose was not just for the union of two souls but for the hope and strength they represented.
The reception was a lively affair, with dancing, laughter, and stories shared under the starlit sky. The couple’s first dance was to a song that spoke of enduring love, their steps a dance of unity and mutual respect.
As the night drew to a close, Beau and Y/N stood together, looking out at the faces of the people they protected, served, and loved. They knew that their journey was just beginning, but they were ready to face it together, as partners in every sense of the word. "I love you Sheriff Beau Arlen", "and I love you Deputy Y/N Arlen".
Awww don't you just love Beau 🥹🥰 hope you enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ❤️
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99
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nadvs · 2 days
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okay i’m on my period and ive been listening to fourth of july by sufjan stevens on REPEATTT😭 it’s inspired a fic idea that i think u would absolutely nail !!!!
sad ofc but rafe’s ex (moved out of the obx) gets news that he’s passed away. it’s centred around her going home, going thru the motions of how jarring it is that someone as big and powerful and stoic as rafe is just….gone. not there anymore. the lyrics of the song are great inspo ofc, but yeah just a huge ball of heartache and emotional despair!
if u wanted to lighten things up a pt2 could be like rafe faked his death vibes, angst and reunion and love and ahhhh!
၊၊||၊၊||၊၊ fourth of july / sufjan stevens
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
content warning death, drug abuse
When you saw the post on social media, you thought it was a sick joke.
But then you read the comments, full of canned condolences and useless prayers, and your refusal to accept the news crumbled with every typed word until you couldn’t possibly deny it any longer.
Someone commented asking how. Someone else replied overdose.
Sorrow and loss and shock and nausea swirled through you. You paced around your bedroom, chest heaving, glancing at the door as if someone was coming to pull you out of the nightmare.
Eventually, you found the strength to text Sarah. You still had her number even though you broke things off with Rafe three months ago.
She gave you the details for the funeral that Saturday.
It’s a hot, sunny afternoon when you make it to Kildare Island. It’s wrong that the world is still spinning, boasting beautiful weather on a gruesome day.
You think bitterly about how people are surely enjoying the sun today, all while the man you still love is being buried.
When Sarah sees you at the church, she gives you a mournful, forced smile. You hug her, your eyes swollen and red and aching, your throat burning as you tell her I’m sorry and are you okay?
You’re not sure if Rafe told her about why you broke up.
— and i’m sorry i left, but it was for the best though it never felt right
He hated that you wanted to move to another state for a job opportunity. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to stay, why he couldn’t just take care of you.
You told him this was for the best and he’d find a girl who’d make him happy. He told you that was bullshit.
You doubt Sarah knows. He never spoke much to his sister unless he was fighting with her, so she likely has no idea why you ended an otherwise happy relationship.
There’s a large photo of him sitting on an easel at the front. You’re surprised they found a picture of him smiling.
It’s grainy and clearly zoomed in, likely from a group photo. He always had a great smile. He hardly showed it.
The lights hit the photographed blue of his eyes dully. Nothing like how he looked when he was alive. Even beneath the anger and bitterness Rafe carried around, he had a brightness in his eyes reserved solely for you.
You watched it fade the day you left him.
— make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light
When you see the coffin resting above the plot in the cemetery, you think you might be sick.
You knew Rafe liked coke. You feel naive now that you didn’t realize it was a problem. He just did it at parties when you were dating. At least, you thought he did.
Maybe you could have prevented this.
You remember the way his arm was wrapped around your waist at one of the last beach house parties you attended together. It was when you were still considering the job offer, knowing deep down you were going to take it.
He smelled like cologne and sweat and Rafe, his cheek against yours as he spoke over the loud music.
“You can’t move,” he said, chuckling and high out of his mind. “Look how much fun we’re having, baby.”
“I’d have more fun if we left,” you told him. He scoffed. But then he led you out of the party, down to the beach, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as you sat in the sand.
“How’s this?” Rafe murmured. He earned laughs from you, his lips on your neck. “Fun?”
“Yeah,” you replied sincerely.
But you still left.
You can hardly listen to the sermon, but one part reverberates through you like it’s being screamed into your ears. We don’t face this life or death without promises.
There was a time when you and Rafe lived in a promise together. But now you just live, and he doesn’t.
Sarah finds you as you’re opening your car door to leave. She tells you it would feel wrong not to show you. They went through his phone. There are messages he sent to you that remain undelivered.
You blocked him after the break-up. You thought it was the right thing to do, but deep down, it felt more wrong than anything.
Your hand trembles as you hold the phone up to your face. It’s jarring, touching something that big, strong, abrasive, loud Rafe owned and used every day, and now he’s buried yards away from you, nothing but coldness and weakness and stillness. He owns nothing now.
Sharp spikes dig into your heart when you see that he sent you a string of texts the night he died.
i can’t stop thinking about you
i love you and i can make you love me again
come back
or i’ll come to you
please try one more time with me
“Thanks,” you tell Sarah, handing back the phone, when in reality, no part of you feels grateful upon seeing words he tried to say to you but couldn’t. You would have been better off not knowing.
You leave a part of yourself in that cemetery. It died with him. Because Rafe always said you were the only one who loved him and he left this earth thinking you didn’t anymore.
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riri-twix · 2 days
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Can We Become We?
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Chapter 2: Just an Arrangement
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.
The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter
You can also read it on ao3 here
Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee, and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.
His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.
“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”
And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His dad was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.
This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.
“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”
“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”
Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. An opportunity to piss off his parents? He’ll take it.
“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.
“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to get on his father’s nerves. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru’s head, a number of footsteps walks into the room.
“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”
Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.
The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.
“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.”
Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t, stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who had his head bowed politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.
His face immediately contorts in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.
He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-
ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.
Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air inside was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.
It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.
He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.
Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to look decent.
And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.
His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.
His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that its rude not to focus his attention. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.
“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”
His parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did. 
But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, but the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.
Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.
Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.
If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.
“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”
His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank you’.
“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”
Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.
Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?
Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.
He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.
“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.
“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”
You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.
The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.
By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.
He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.
After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.
You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.
Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened so slightly by feminine features.
He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.
Both of them, Satoru and Suguru weren’t the creepy old men you were dreading they’d be - thank God. And although they seemed like complete opposites, were equally handsome.
And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.
“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”
No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.
While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.
“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.
“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”
Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off. He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.
Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.
“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.
“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”
“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”
“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.
“And many important people will attend, including the Gojo family elders.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” He uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”
A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one being to find himself a therapist.
“I don’t want the elders talking badly about us. They are in charge of all our affairs and if they sense any problems, it won’t be good.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than your own wedding!”
And just like that, Satoru snaps.
“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”
“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”
Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.
“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”
And with that, he leaves.
Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, the gaze of his sunglasses planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?
A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.
Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."
Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them. Shoko and the girls might not need to crash the wedding after all…
“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest. No one was opposed to this.
“Me either.”
The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.
The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.
I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.
A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.
It was time.
A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.
He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.
You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.
The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.
Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.
Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.
As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.
You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.
Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.
But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.
You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.
Step.
Step.
Step.
All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.
You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.
You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.
Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple. Just like his eyes.
You wonder who chose this specific fish-
“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.
You blink. Was it your turn already?
“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.
You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.
Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.
You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.
The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.
That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.
chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)
taglist: @keira80808
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glutengoblin · 3 days
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Too Sweet (Part 2) - Sebastian Sallow X Reader
A/N: Apologies for the delay! As a Ravenclaw dealing with finals, I spent waaaaay too long in the library this past week. Here's part 2!
This story is inspired by "Too Sweet" by Hozier, which I have been playing on repeat for days at this point.
Also, if you'd like to be friends, please reach out! I would love to get to know you!
Summary: Sebastian has a problem, and that problem is his best friend. She is simply too sweet for him, and can't get her out of his head. Will he do something about his feelings, or choose to continue to keep them a secret? (She/Her Pronouns, House Neutral)
Word Count: 1.7 K
Ominis stared at his friend with surprise, trying to determine if he was actually meant to be taken seriously. Sebastian laughed at his expression- despite the fact that his stomach felt more queasy than it ever had, he settled on his decision.
“I mean, with graduation coming up, it's now or never, correct?” With that, Sebastian downed the last of his butterbeer in one fell swoop and stood up. Thankfully, years of downing fire whiskey after quidditch games had steeled him against the effects of alcohol, so for the most part, he was stable.
He turned around and surveyed the party, which had grown exponentially in rowdiness. Poppy was toppled over with laughter at something Garreth had said, with Natty by right by her side. Imelda actually stood on a table, chanting the Holyhead Harpies main cheer (apparently, she had just been accepted to the team that day). Even Amit appeared drunk, as he tried to explain the merits of astrology to Everett, who looked surprisingly okay with the topic of conversation.
When his eyes finally fell on Y/N, he grew a bit hot under the collar. She was sitting on a table, swinging her legs back and forth in her gleeful way. What Sebastian didn’t like was the cause of that glee, which was Andrew Larson, clearly telling that most fascinating joke. He was leaned ever so close to her, in a way that was awfully suggestive- and Sebastian hated it.
Sebastian stalked over, trying to flash his most charming smile, even though his anger was beginning to seep through. Truly, he didn’t adore the idea of Y/N being with some other than him.
As he approached, Y/N flashed him the most glorious smile. “Sebastian! I was hoping you’d come join. Andrew was just telling me about a new quidditch move he’s developing. I think its a brilliant idea.”
Andrew turned to look at Sebastian, his smile falling a bit as he examined his impression. “Y/N, I’m not sure its exactly information I want a Slytherin, of all people, to be privy too.” Andrew let out a chuckle, clearly trying to play it off as a joke.
Sebastian’s smile faded to a scowl, as he took a step closer, evidently sizing Andrew up. “And what exactly is wrong with being a Slytherin?” He quirked his head to the side, giving his best lost puppy expression, fanning ignorance to the fact that he knew exactly what Andrew had met.
Y/N threw a worried look between them, scooting off the table. “Hey, guys I don’t think that-” Andrew cut her off by giving her a hand, and giving Sebastian a scowl that rivaled his own.
“Perhaps I should clarify my statement Sallow. Its not so much that you’re Slytherin, as it is the fact that you’re you-” Sebastian gritted his teeth, clearly gearing up for the altercation that as about to ensue.
“Then what about me specifically-”
“I just think you’re an untrustworthy person. I mean, constantly up in the middle of the night, the way you’ve acted since your sister left- even she seems to think that you’re not worth associating with anymore-” Though Sebastian wasn’t proud of his next move, he was even less proud of what occurred after.
Sebastian lunged, socking Andrew with a fist straight to the eye. Stumbling back, Andrew drew his wand and threw a cast that Sebastian took straight to the chest, causing him to go flying back against the tables.
A hushed silence fell over the room as every onlooker watch the bar fight unfold in front of them. Sebastian lunged and Andrew, tackling him to ground as Andrew cried out. They rolled around on the floor, trying land more hits until Y/N finally drew her wand.
In an instant, the two men were floating in mid air, tethered in what Sebastian knew to be ancient magic. As soon as the shock from being lifted wore off, he took note of her expression. Y/N looked pissed- more than he had ever seen her.
Crossing her arms across her chest, she shot them both icy glares, before finally speaking. “ENOUGH! You two need to promise to stop acting like petulant children, and then I’ll put you down.” Evidently, both of them knew what was good for them as they nodded sheepishly. Lowering them both to the ground, Y/N then approached Sebastian. “You- Come with me.” Grabbing his upper arm, she lead him out onto the streets of Hogsmeade and to the nearest floo flame, muttering all the while.
Thankfully for his sake, she waited until they had arrived at her room of requirement before she lost her mind at him. “What the hell were you thinking Sebastian! Punching Larson? You’re already on thin ice with Weasley about the time you got in a brawl with Garreth after potions, what made you think it was a good idea to try a repeat!” Sebastian scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well, I wouldn’t have punched the git if he hadn’t said those things about Anne. I mean come on Y/N, you heard what he said.” Y/N turned away, rummaging through one of her potions stations as she muttered to herself. Eventually, she returned with a cloth and deep blue potion, which she gently dabbed onto the wound on his forehead.
“I know Sebastian- Andrew was completely out of line. But still, violence is never the answer to your problems.” Sebastian snorted at that.
“That’s rich coming from you of all people. The girl who has probably killed more goblins than most aurors.” He retorted, gaining him a slap on the arm that made him yelp. She gave him a glare worth of rivaling Professor Sharp’s.
“You know what I mean Sebastian. I don’t know what I would do if you got expelled, and given your last insurrection you’re closer than ever to achieving that goal.” Sebastian let out a chuckle, pushing her hand away from his forehead.
“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” That statement only earned him a shake of her head and scowl. Honestly, he found it weirdly attractive when she angry- it was so unlike her normal sweet expression.
Y/N let out a sigh of relief as his wound finally began to close up. Sebastian could have sworn that he imagined the next words out of her mouth, because that would be a more reasonable, logical explanation. However, he most certainly didn’t.
“Only about you…”
“What do you mean by that?” Their faces were rather close at this point, likely from her trying to ensure that his wound was properly tended to. Sebastian, however, let himself hope for a second that it was because she longed to close the distance as much as he did.
She let out another sigh, as she searched his eyes for the answer he was hoping to hear. “I suppose you could say… I care about you more than I really do for anyone else.” Sebastian eyebrows shot up at her admittance - could it possibly be that she returned his feelings? While still not sure, he had promised Ominis that he would finally do something about his pesky crush. Now seemed as good of a time as any.
“I-I… I care for you more than I do anyone else too… in a romantic sense-” Sebastian admitted, his hand traveling up to her cheek as he waited in quiet an anticipation. “Sorry if that was too rushed, or not romantic enough. I just don’t really know how else to say it.”
Her voice quivered a bit as the full weight of his words hit her, cause a wild blush to travel over her cheeks. “Really? You-You have feelings for me?”
“Really. Would it be alright if I-” Sebastian’s request was cut off as her lips crashed into his. Gone was the girl who had been so delicate with his injured self mere seconds ago. Instead, she was replaced with a someone that seemed to want this as desperately as him, as her hands found purchase in his hair, pulling him further into her.
Sebastian could swear his heart was exploding in his chest. The fact that after everything that had transpired, everything since 5th year, that she still wanted him- he was astounded. It was right then and there that he thanked Salazar for this chance, and swore that he would try his absolute best not to mess this up.
Her lips against his tasted sweet in a way he couldn’t quite describe- not sickening, but rather addicting. He knew right then he was screwed- falling even harder for her instantly became inevitable.
Deciding to jump head first into the intoxication, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her ever closer, pressing her smaller frame against his. She responded with a whimper that drove him absolutely mad, as he resounded to make her make that noise again.
Much to Sebastian’s dismay, they eventually had to pull apart for air. Staring at each other in shock, he gently brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, examining her eyes for any sign of regret. He was thankful to find none. After so long of just being friends, they had entered uncharted territory. The night felt new in an odd way, the excitement in the air was palpable.
Eventually Sebastian couldn’t bare it any longer, and grasped her hand in his. Running his thumb over her knuckles, he shot her a small smile. “Would it be too forward to ask you on a date at this point?”
Y/N let out a small chuckle, shooting him a sheepish smile. “Not at all, quite honestly I’ve been waiting two years for you to ask.” Sebastian’s cheeks flushed, as he quietly damned himself for not taking action much, much sooner. She broke his contemplative silence, urging her to look back up at her. “When did you want to-”
Sebastian squeezed her hand a bit tighter, considering for a moment. “Well, how about tomorrow? Preferably after 10 though, you know how I feel about my sleep.”
“That sounds fine. But don’t worry, eventually I’ll fix you. You’ll become a morning person if its the last thing I do before we graduate.”
Sebastian’s smile was wider than the whole sky as he leaned in, pressing another kiss against her lips.
“You keep telling yourself that.”
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Text
"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.1 - E.N
Summary: Y/n Wayne, Edward's obsession and love. He can't help but follow them, watch them, stalk them. A strategic 'run in' in a bookstore turns into a friendship, and that turns into a requited love. But of course, Edward goes to Arkham. Will that change anything, though? (In this story, the seawall bombing doesn't happen. Only the death of Falcone. This story makes more sense if you've read Year One, but if not you should still be ok! <3)
Content Warning: 18+, explicit language, yandere!Edward, stalker!Edward, self-hate, egotistical!Edward, obsessed!Edward, megalomaniac!Edward, mentions of murder, mentions of guns, edward comparing himself to a fox and y/n to a rabbit, sexual content, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual intercourse, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns.
Word Count: 6,608
Songs For Inspo:
Daydream In Blue - I Monster
Where Is My Mind? - Pixies
Every Breath You Take - The Police
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~Read Below Cut~
'Y/n Wayne.'
Even thinking about her name gave him chills. A shiver scurried down his spine, fading at the tips of his toes. His glasses reflected the blue light of his laptop, eyes darting around as he scanned over the various articles. Pictures of y/n, each in different tabs, covered his screen. Each one was minimized so he could see all of them at once. It had become a part of his nightly routine.
"Research" he called it.
What exactly was he researching, though? A weak link in Wayne Enterprises? A way to gain access to more information? Blackmail over Bruce Wayne? Or, was he simply learning as much as he could about the Wayne family?
None of the above.
He was learning more about her.
His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips before retreating back into his mouth. It was late, he should be asleep, that's what most people would say. But, Einstein only took naps, was sleep really important? He didn't think so. Edward only slept when he felt like it was necessary. He used to get a tad bit more sleep, but his new "hobby" occupied that extra time now. With a click of his touchpad, he opened up a new article. Gotham Gazette. Tired eyes read the title, a hum of satisfaction sounding in his chest.
'Y/n Wayne Donates 3 Million To Gotham City Orphanage'
'"All I know is, children should have a safe place to call home. Even if they do not have a family, they still deserve love and kindness." She said as she left the orphanage.'
Edward's lips curled up into a small smile.
"A charitable, generous spirit. And yet, you are a Wayne..." He mumbled to himself.
An irrepressible yawn rose from his chest, eyes squinting slightly as his jaw slacked. He blinked away tears that formed in his eyes, wiping the excess away with his palms. It was at that moment he realized how badly the screen hurt his retinas, due to staring at it for over an hour. Edward grunted, yawning again as he zoomed in on a picture of y/n. She was sitting on a park bench, most likely at Gotham Central Park, right next to her older brother Bruce Wayne. Edward had found out through "research" that she was 28, just 3 years younger than him. Bruce, however, was 30 years old.
"So soft and kind in your appearance, yet aware, like a twitchy rabbit."
Reaching forward, he glided his finger tips over the image. He sighed, closing the laptop before standing up from his desk. If he continued to look at the pictures or read the articles any longer, he would be up all night. If it was the weekend, he could do that, but in the morning he had work. Work. He wondered, was that something that y/n knew of? Did she have a job, or did she simply live off of her dead parents money? Well, she did run part of Wayne Enterprises, so she did get money from that. But, her part in it was not huge, as it was mainly her older brother that ran the company. Edward knew that y/n was independent, as she didn't live with her brother in Wayne Tower. She had her own apartment, as a matter of fact, she lived near Edward. Though, that was not by coincidence. Edward had moved apartments recently, and when he did, he took into mind where y/n lived. So, because of his "strategic" planning, her apartment was directly across the street from his. It was concerning how obsessed he had become with her, the obsession had turned into stalking, and he so desperately wanted to have an encounter with her. Edward was always socially awkward and shy growing up in the orphanage, never having any friends or even trying to make any. He was too different. But, when he began his journey as the Riddler, he felt more confident and powerful than ever before. And y/n, well, every time he saw her...he felt confident in other forms. Edward looked down at the ground, seeing his growing erection hidden under his pants. He groaned, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. Curling his hands into fists, he glanced back down at his laptop. He so badly wanted to open it back up and stare at the pictures of her for hours on end, but he did need to sleep, much to his dismay. If he showed up to work tired and sluggish again, he feared he might get fired. Getting fired was the last thing he needed, as a source of income was necessary to live in this shithole of a city. The twitching of his pants brought him out of his thoughts, hissing at the tightening of the fabric around him.
He ran his hands through is hair, muddling it up. Walking to his bedroom, he removed his belt, tossing it haphazardly on his dresser. Edward kicked his jeans off, not even bothering to see where they landed, his apartment was already a mess due to his plannings. In his t-shirt and boxers, he walked to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and staring at himself in the mirror. The throbbing underneath his underwear did not cease, as thoughts of y/n still raced through his mind. Some of them were innocent, he thought about what her favorite songs were, what her favorite color was, and did she have any childhood pets? But, the other half consisted of graphic fantasies. Edward did not consider himself to be a sexual man, but y/n evoked an animalistic feeling inside of him. To be fair, that's not all he felt towards her. He had many dreams about simply holding her in his arms, feeling loved for once in his life. But, again, he also had dirty thoughts. Images of her beneath him, back arched and mouth agape flashed by his eyes. He had heard her voice before, in interviews, and he imagined how her moans would sound. Would they be high-pitched, or would they be sultry and low? He favored the former, picturing himself making her feel so good that she couldn't maintain a consistent tone of her voice. He wanted to feel her touch so badly. He wanted to keep her safe. Oh, how he would love to protect her from the scum that populated this city. In a way, he already was. He would watch her apartment every night, keeping a close eye on who came in and came out. He practically knew everyone of the tenants schedules at this point. Edward spat the toothpaste and spit mixture into the sink, washing it away.
"The bookstore. That's when you'll see her." He mumbled to himself.
He brought a paper cup of water to his lips, swishing it around in his mouth. Spitting into the sink, he tossed the cup into the trashcan. Edward placed his hands on the edge of the basin, looking at his reflection. His eyes had heavy bags underneath them, a result from lack of sleep, his own fault. After a few seconds, he smirked, turning the light off and walking out of the bathroom. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he read the time.
'4:19 A.M'
He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand down his face. It was so late and he had to get up early. Edward had complete control over when he went to bed, and yet he chose to stay up and torture himself. Why? So he could indulge in his obsession with y/n. But, he wouldn't have to stay up late anymore. Tomorrow, he was going to take a big leap. He was prepared, but he just hoped everything went according to plan. Yawning once again, he got under the covers of his bed. The erection he had earlier was still there, though slowly fading away. It was a good thing, because he was too tired to take care of it like he usually did. Edward had gone through an embarrassingly high amount of tissues since his new 'hobby' started. He removed his glasses, placing them on his nightstand, looking back up towards the ceiling. The sounds of police sirens echoed throughout the streets as he slowly drifted off into sleep, a single thought crossing his mind before.
'This city is a stain on the earth.'
~
The morning came quick, and Edward went to his job running on 3 1/2 hours of sleep. He was used to it though. Work was the same as it always was for him: boring and easy. Being a forensic accountant was easy work, numbers always being a simple thing for him to understand, ever since he was a child. Though, just because he was smart didn't mean he got recognized for it. He would get accounts done quicker than expected, and his 'higher up' would get all the credit. Edward came to understand one thing about Gotham fairly quickly in his adolescence, and that was that the lower class did not get any recognition. But, he somehow managed to get through another soul-crushing day at KTMJ. It felt longer because of what awaited him. He stood outside the window of a small bookstore, peering inside subtly. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, he nodded slightly before walking inside. Because of his penchant for stalking y/n, he discovered that she frequented this particular bookstore. Obviously, Edward took this as a sign that she liked to read. He did too, which gave him a bit of a one-up to start a conversation when he 'accidentally' ran into her. From what he had observed, the always came every other Friday, sometimes they didn't go, but he was willing to take a chance today. His bag from work was slung over his shoulder, laptop and his 'personal' ledger inside of it, filled to the brim with his thoughts and ideas. He walked down the aisles, pretending that he was looking for a book. Rounding the corner, he froze in place, withdrawing behind the shelf as he saw her. She was looking at the rows of books, specifically under the 'Horror/Thriller' section. Edward closed his eyes.
'Shh. You're okay. Just breathe. Now, go.'
Without another thought, he stepped out from behind the shelf. He let his eyes wander around the area. Edward continued to walk towards her, bracing himself for what he was about to do. Squinting his eyes shut, he walked directly into her, falling on his back. His bag, still around his shoulder, laid next to him. Just like he knew she would, she gasped and looked down at him. He held onto his head, faking a grunt as he met her gaze. Y/n knelt down, holding out a hand with a soft smile.
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Did I trip you?" She asked softly.
Edward smirked internally, finding it amusing that she was the one who apologized even though he was the one who ran into her. It just goes to show how polite she was. He nodded, grabbing onto her hand and allowing her to help him get up. The feeling of her soft supple skin against his sent a shiver down his spine, just like he got when he looked at pictures of her.
"There's no need for you to apologize, I'm the one who wasn't looking at where I was going. And, no, you did not trip me...Ms. Wayne! I'm very sorry for running into you ma'am." He faked his surprise.
She shook her head.
"No, no, I have a bad habit of standing directly in the middle of the aisles. I get so focused on finding the book I want that I forget about my surroundings. And, please, call me Y/n. Me being a Wayne doesn't change a thing about my status. Or, at least I like to believe that." Y/n laughed awkwardly.
Edward groaned in his head, her laugh resonating in his ears. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It made his heart warm and his lips form a smile. Now, it was time to start a real conversation. He had to get y/n interested in him.
"Well, that's understandable depending on what book you were looking at. Have you found one?" He asked suavely.
She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. He took in her appearance, light makeup on her face, he had noticed that she really liked blush on her nose. Just like earlier, he had compared her to a rabbit, and the faint pinkish nose further solidified his comparison. She wore jeans and a dark burnt sienna sweater. A pair of mismatched converse covered her feet, which Edward found to be an interesting fashion choice.
"No, I haven't found one yet. I know what I want, but I just can't...find it? You know?" She shrugged, placing a book onto the shelf.
"Readers block?" He questioned.
"Oh, is that a thing?" She asked, tilting her head.
"I mean, maybe? I just made it up on the spot." Edward shrugged.
"Huh, well I like it. I'm gonna start calling it that...anyways, what kind of book are you looking for? Maybe that will help me." Y/n asked, whipping her hair out of her face.
Edward used every fiber of his being to not lurch forward and smell her hair. Though, he could detect a soft smell of peaches. It was a pleasant scent that made him want more. More of her. If he could just touch her...
"I was just looking for some of Shakespeare's plays. I've already read the majority of them, but I don't have them in my own apartment." He said.
"You like Shakespeare?" Y/n asked in bewilderment.
"Who doesn't?"
"I loved reading Shakespeare in high school, I got made fun of for it so much. But, being a Wayne might have had something to do with it too..." She trailed.
"Do you have a favorite play? I wouldn't mind re-reading a few." Edward hoisted up his bag, readjusting its position on his shoulder.
"Well, call me basic, but I really like Macbeth and Hamlet, the stories are interesting. Romeo and Juliet is a classic though, if you want romance."
Y/n walked over to the plays, scanning the shelves and removing a book. She opened it up, flipping through the pages. Edward watched closely, like a predator analyzing his prey for a weakness. Where would he strike, and when? Would he go for the throat and jump right into action? No. He had to be patient. If he was to truly win her love, he would have to do it the right way. But, he so desperately wanted to grab her hips. He pictured himself shoving her against the shelf, attacking her neck with his lips and teeth. Would she squeal like a timid rabbit? Would she enjoy it? Would she want him to do more? Would she beg for him to take her in this very aisle? Oh, he hoped so. He so badly hoped that she had the same filthy fantasies as he did.
"Mmm, here's one of my favorite quotes! 'Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.'.." She giggled, looking down at the quote with a smile.
Y/n closed the book, sliding it back on to the shelf.
"A Midsummer Night's Dream. That's a good one." He nodded.
"I told myself growing up that I would not accept someone's love unless they spoke through the words of Shakespeare. It's easy to tell someone you love them, but finding a poetic way is harder."
He looked at her, fascination evident in his eyes. She was even more interesting in person. Of course, Edward knew she liked Shakespeare. He practically knew everything about her. But, to be discussing it with her face to face was an amazing feeling. He never wanted this conversation to end.
"Fuck, what am I saying? I'm discussing my childhood with a complete stranger. I never even asked what your name was!"
"It's Edward. Edward Nashton." He introduced himself.
"Edward Nashton...why does that name sound so familiar..." She hummed.
He felt himself sweat. Why did he tell her his real name!? What an idiot. Stupid, stupid, idiot. Her father knew him, of course she knows his name. Should he tell her? Should he tell her about Renewal? She was smart, he knew that. Eventually, even if he never told her, she would find out. If he kept it as a secret, it would likely ruin his chances with her. Damn it.
"Um, your father came to the orphanage I was homed in, back when the Renewal project started. I applied, but then he..." He trailed.
'Great first impression, bring up her dead father. Real fucking smart.'
Y/n noticed he looked guilty for bringing it up, so she put on a small smile.
"Did you ever get accepted?" She asked.
"No."
"Oh, I see. I'm very sorry about that. I was too young to take part in any of that...if I was able to, I would have done more than he did." She scoffed.
Edward picked up on the hint of resentment. Perhaps, she felt equally upset about the Wayne's history? Oh, how interesting...
"I don't hold on any ill will towards you, incase you were worried. I've seen what you've been doing for Gotham citizens, especially the children." He said.
That was true, he held no ill will towards y/n. Her family, on the other hand, that was a different story. Sure, he still had a fascination with Bruce Wayne, but he needed to pay for the sins of his father. Y/n did not. She was actively trying to do things about the corruption and violence in Gotham. Meanwhile, her brother stayed up in Wayne tower being waited on by a butler. Edward couldn't remember the last time Bruce Wayne did something as charitable as y/n did. A ringing in y/n's pocket echoed throughout the store, causing them to scramble to grab it. Looking at the caller ID, she shook her head and lightly sighed. She looked up towards Edward, holding up a finger with a sheepish smile. He nodded, wishing he could see that shy smile once more. Y/n stepped away slightly, answering the phone and holding it up to her ear as she leaned against a shelf. Edward could not hear the conversation, only what y/n was saying.
"Hey Brucey, what's up?" She asked.
'I need you to come to Wayne Tower. You know about drops, right?'
"Um, yeah?"
'I busted a dealing and I'm not sure where to go from here. I was wondering if you might have any leads since you live near the shady part of the city.'
"Shit, look, you know I'd help, but I really don't think I should get involved with that...hobby. I'm not a huge fan."
She looked at Edward, not wanting to be too open with information. Based on the tone of her voice, Bruce assumed that someone was near her. She knew that Bruce was Batman. Did she like the idea and purpose behind it? Yes. Did she want to get involved? No. Y/n loved her brother to death, but she did not want to get involved in his vigilante life.
'I understand. I'll figure it out myself. But, y/n, be careful. This city is filthy.'
"You know what, I can send you some information for it later on." She added.
'Oh, that's great! Thank you so much, sis. I really appreciate it.'
"I know, Bruce. I love you. Tell Alfred I said hi, ok? We should have dinner sometime soon." She hummed.
'That sounds nice, and I'll be sure to tell Alfred. I love you too, be safe.'
Y/n hung up the phone, sliding it back into her pocket. She walked back over to Edward, clearing her throat. He gave her a smile.
"Sorry about that, it was my brother. He asked if I would come over and help him work on a car of his. I'm not a big fan of mechanics." She laughed.
"It's no problem. I think I'll get A Midsummer Night's Dream, you've convinced me." He smiled.
"Oh, I'm glad! You'll have to let me know what you think of it!" She beamed.
"And how would I do that exactly?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah...I don't know why I said that. Oops."
He smiled, pulling out his phone and opening his phonebook. Handing it to y/n, he encouraged her to take it. She looked up at him, that pink nose of hers scrunching as she giggled softly. He could see her cheeks turn pink, and it wasn't just the blush. He felt confident. Cocky. Proud. He knew that she wouldn't reject him. She was too kind to do that to someone. He was purposefully shy and awkward, knowing that it would raise the chances of her not rejecting him. Everything had been planned out and was being executed perfectly.
"Have I earned the right to ask for your number?" He asked, grabbing the book off the shelf.
"Hmm, I'd like to think so." She smiled, inputting her information into the phone.
Y/n handed it back to Edward, pulling out her phone as well. Smirking, he told her his phone number and watched as she typed it into a contact. He could feel his heart race from underneath his rib cage. It thumped, pounded, beat like crazy and he could practically hear his blood pumping in his ears. Swallowing thickly, he gave her an awkward smile, still playing the part of a socially awkward man.
"I'll talk to you later, yeah? I still can't figure out what to get, so I think I'll just head back home. Bye bye, Edward!" She waved, walking out of the store.
He waved a goodbye, watching as she walked away. His eyes were focused on her hair, bouncing and swaying with her steps. But, his eyes trailed lower and lower, resting on the plump of her ass. The way it moved was almost hypnotic, sending him into a trance of desire and lust. But, he had to be patient. As with his plan for Gotham, he had a plan for y/n. If he skipped steps, everything would fall down. So, he simply watched her fade away, the natural bounce in her step resembling the hop of a bunny. A familiar shiver creeped down his spine, his body shaking in delight. He wondered if she would have the same natural bounce in bed. Closing his eyes, he let his imagination run wild, feeling
'And there you go, gentle rabbit. As you hop through the streets, be calm, knowing that a fox is watching over you.'
~
He was a genius. His plan worked, and now y/n was eating from the palm of his hand. Back on the first night they met, he did not text her first, even though he wanted to. He had to make her want to talk to him. He had to make her want his attention. It was easier than he thought, though, as y/n found Edward to be an interesting man. He became a frequent guest at her apartment, pretending to be shocked when he 'found out' that they lived right across the street from each other. He no longer needed to 'research' her, because she would willingly confide to him about all of her problems, past, and thoughts. He was her friends, just like he had planned. A week turned into two, two turned into three, and then a month went by. Then, another month went by. And then another. It was October, and he was putting his plans for Falcone into motion. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. Of course it was, he had planned it. He never made mistakes. But, now, was another part of his goal that he needed to accomplish. Making y/n fall in love with him. And, he didn't have to try hard. As Halloween grew closer and closer, so did y/n's relationship with Edward. She found herself falling for him, face first into the dirt. He knew this. It was so obvious. Oh, it made him feel so powerful and strong, having a Wayne be in love with him. He could so easily manipulate it, use it as blackmail, but he didn't. This was for his own pleasure. He loved her and he was making her fall in love with him. It wasn't forcing, she was willingly doing it. It was so evident how head over heels she was for him. She was practically putty in his hand, and they both knew it. He could ask her to do anything and she would, well, with limitations of course, do it. Though, he would never ask her to do anything bad or criminal, no, no, no. Instead, he would ask for small favors...ones that he knew would drive her crazy and spiral further in love with him. The way she looked at him, it fed his ego so generously...
~
A knock at y/n's door caught her attention. She placed down the pencil she had in her hand, walking over. Glancing through the peephole, she giggled when she saw Edward on the other side. Y/n was quick to open the door.
"Eddie! Hi!" She greeted happily.
"Hello, y/n. I'm sorry to interrupt but the heater at my apartment building isn't working. Is it ok if I take a shower here?" He asked.
Y/n's cheeks tinted pink, eyes slightly widening. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Nodding, she stepped to the side, allowing him to come in. As he walked past, y/n took in the smell of his natural scent. For some reason, he always smelled like he wore cologne, even when he didn't. It was like a natural peppery smell, hints of pine and citrus as well. Y/n knew he loved candles, so it could be because he always had a candle lit and the smells just started to stick to him. Whatever the reason, y/n loved it.
"I'll go get a towel, but um, you'll have to use my soap and stuff." She said.
"No need, I brought my stuff. I had some extra, is it ok if I leave it here? In case I need to use your shower again in the future?" He questioned, slyly smirking to himself.
'Oh, how precious...she's blushing so deeply.'
"U-Um, yeah that's fine! Really smart! You're really smart, Edward!" She praised shyly.
'Yes, I already know that. But, say it again, it sounds so good coming from you...'
"Anyways, let me go get a towel for you." She smiled, leaving the room.
Edward waited till she left, noticing that the lamp on her desk was on. Curiously, he walked over to see what she was doing before he arrived. A pencil rested on an open sketchbook, the contents making his lips tug up in a smug grin. She had been sketching pictures of him. He was in her mind 24/7, unable to get him out, so much so that she needed to draw him. Some of them were normal sketches of him smiling, neutral, or frowning. But, then there were more risqué ones. Those intrigued him the most. There was one of him looking down, eyes dark and heavy, perfectly capturing how tired he looked all the time. Another one had him standing in front of a poorly drawn bed, the main focus being his own body. He was gripping the frame, hunching over it. It was drawn in a perspective that made him look down, almost like someone was below him staring up at him. Oh, he knew what was going through her mind when she drew that. After all, it was a thought he had quite often. One where she was beneath him, either on a bed or a couch, it didn't matter to him. But, she would look up at him with those doe eyes, completely bare and on display. He would look down, intimidating and ominous before ravishing her and making her nails dig into the skin of his back. Edward had heard of the 'cliche' promise of fucking someone so roughly that they'd break the bed, but he wasn't trying to be cliche. It wasn't playful dirty talk to him, no, it was a promise. And if he was ever given the chance, he would be sure to keep it.
"Ok, I put a towel in the bathroom. Y-"
Edward turned around, the sketchbook in his hand. Y/n was a mess, completely embarrassed. He knew she would get like that, which is exactly why he picked it up. Smiling, he lowered it from his vision.
"These are really good, y/n. I'm honored to be your muse."
"O-Oh, it's nothing. I j-just got bored, you know? And I know what you look like, so I figured I-I'd just draw you." She stuttered.
"This one is my favorite. Well, I'm going to shower." He said, walking towards the bathroom with a bag of his toiletries.
Y/n looked at the sketch he pointed at, face turning beet red. Of course it was the one of him looking down. God, why did she even draw that? Well, she knew why, but she was utterly embarrassed because he had seen it. And now, he was getting naked in her own apartment. Did he know what he did to her? The power he held over her? Yes, he did know that. After all, his heater was working just fine.
~
As time went on, Y/n knew something was up with Edward. The way she could see his lights on very late into the night. The way he never wanted her to come to his own apartment. But, all of her suspicions were answered one night. He did it on purpose, she was sure of it...
~
"I had so much fun with you tonight, Edward! Thanks for coming over." She smiled.
Y/n opened the door for him, watching him walk out and stand in the doorway. He looked at her and smiled.
"You don't need to thank me for wanting to hang out with you. I find it fun too."
He turned to walk away, but y/n called out to him. Edward stopped, looking back to her with a curious expression on his face. Y/n fidgeted with her hands. She knew what she wanted to ask, but she was terrified of what the answer might be. Of what it would be. There was no might. Deep down in her heart, she knew.
"Have you heard of this 'Riddler' man?" She asked.
Edward raised an eyebrow, walking back to the doorway. Leaning against the frame, he nodded. Y/n swallowed thickly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yes, I have. What about him?"
"W-Well, I've been a little scared. He seems to have a grudge against my brother...what if he starts targeting me?" Y/n sighed.
"Oh, I'm sure he won't come after you."
"How do you know that?"
"Just a hunch." He smirked, looking down on her.
That was it. It was in that exact moment that y/n knew. There was no debate about it. For the first time in a while, she felt true fear flood her body. A shiver ran down her spine, visible to Edward. He was playing with her. He was not saying he was the Riddler, but he wasn't saying he was not the Riddler either. But, if she suspected, then why didn't she tip off the police? Why did she not say anything? And most of all, why did she feel so hot as he looked at her. A serial killer, a friend, stood in front of her, and all she could feel was arousal. Edward smirked, he could see how rapidly she was breathing. Humming, he stepped towards her, forcing her to back away slowly. He closed the door behind him, holding a hand over his heart.
"You don't think that I'm the Riddler, do you?" He feigned surprise.
"W-What? N-No! W-Why would I think that?" She stuttered.
He continued to walk towards her until she was backed against her desk. Edward now stood in front of her, eyes looking down menacingly at her through the lenses of his glasses. She gripped the desk firmly, searching for stability. The sight alone made him lustful.
"Then why do you look so scared?" He questioned.
"I-I'm not, Edward. I'm not scared..." She mumbled.
"Yes you are. I can see it in your eyes. You're trembling beneath me."
"I-"
"Here. Call the police." He said, pulling out his phone.
"What?"
"Call the GCPD. Tell them that The Riddler is in your apartment."
Edward dialed 911 onto the phone, not pressing call. He handed it to her, crossing his arms over his chest. The phone shook in her hands, her eyes looking up into his. She should call them. But, she didn't want to. Yes, Edward had killed people...but they were all bad. Y/n knew better than most people how corrupt this city was, that was why she lived in a shitty apartment. She wanted to go through what every other Gotham citizen had to. That was why she donated money, volunteered, did whatever she could to help. But, these assholes did the exact opposite. They didn't give a shit about the people.
"N-No..."
"No? You won't call? Why is that?" He teased.
"Because, I-"
"Because you what?"
"Because I'm not betraying you! You're my friend, but you're sick in the head, Edward. I understand that you hate the corruption in this city, I do too. But, murder is not the way to solve it!" She cried.
"Oh, you're such a liar, y/n. You should already know how much I hate liars..." He seethed through gritted teeth.
"I-"
"I could kill you, easily." He muttered.
"Edwa-"
"Tell me the truth!"
"Because I love you!"
Edward smirked, stepping closer to her. He planted his hands on both sides of the desk, trapping her beneath him. Y/n was now breathing frantically, heart racing underneath her supple skin. He tutted, shaking his head as he leaned down to her ear.
"My, my, what would Bruce think? The citizens of Gotham? The news? Y/n Wayne, hopelessly in love with the Riddler. How sad..."
"Edward, what are you planning..."
"Mmm, why would I tell you? Because I love you?"
"W-"
"How would you feel if I told you that I had stalked you for months before I 'met' you?" He chuckled.
"What?"
"Do you think I coincidentally went to your favorite bookstore? That I just happened to live right across the street from you? I know everything about you, y/n. I've been watching you. Studying you. Like a predator stalks their prey. And you had no idea..." He smirked.
"Edward..."
"How does that make you feel? Are you scared? Petrified? Intimidated? Please do tell me."
Y/n whimpered, knees buckling below her. She was red in the face, eyes soft and hazy. Her mouth was partially open, lips shiny from her lip gloss. He could practically smell her fear. But a sickening scent of arousal hung thick in the air as well.
"Or do you like it?" He mocked.
"You're scaring me, Edward..."
"Is that why you're blushing? Is that why you're panting?"
He leaned forward, gripping his hands on her hips. She whined, biting on her bottom lip. Edward moved his knee to between their legs, roughly grinding it against her clothed heat. A pathetic whimper slipped from her lips.
"Is that why I can practically smell how aroused you are?"
"P-Please..."
"Do you get off on fear, y/n? Do you like being intimidated? Overpowered? At the mercy of someone else? The mercy of me?"
He moved his knee back and forth again, admiring how helpless she looked. She reached up and gripped onto his shoulders, throwing her head back. Edward scoffed, holding her head in place with his hand. He looked into her eyes as he continued to grind up into her.
"Talk."
"Fuck, y-yes, Ed! I l-love it! Please..." She groaned.
"You love what? Being at my mercy? Being afraid? Intimidated?"
"Yes! All of it!"
She leaned forward, snaking arms around his neck. Without a thought, y/n kissed him with force. He took no time at all to reciprocate it, hiking her up onto the desk. His tongue slipped into her mouth, teeth clashing against each other in the sloppy kiss. Edward pulled away, wrapping his hand around her throat. He slapped her face harshly, gripping her jaw.
"You're a fucking embarrassment to the Wayne family."
"I-I know..."
"Tell me you want me to fuck you. I know you want it."
"P-Please, Edward! Fuck me!"
He ripped her panties off, throwing them across the fl-
...
No, that's not what happened at all. None of that happened. It was a dream. A sick, sexual fantasy that y/n worked up in her head as she slept in her bed. She shot up out of bed, the center of her legs dripping wet. Shakily, she let out a breath, holding a hand over her chest as it heaved. Y/n definitely had feelings for Edward, that was a fact. But, she also had suspicions of him being the Riddler. He had never given any confirmation, but deep down in her gut she had a feeling. And what did her subconscious do with those feelings? It created a vulgar wet dream. Of course it did.
"He's not the Riddler. You're imagining things. It's paranoia." She whispered to herself.
She grabbed her phone off of the nightstand, the bright light making her eyes squint. It was late, but Edward usually pulled late nights. Shuddering, she called him, putting the phone on speaker. It was stupid, but she needed Edward to comfort her. The heat between her legs was still there, making her rub her thighs together.
'Y/n? It's the middle of the night, what's wrong? You kind of caught me in the middle of something.'
"Should I call you another time?" She asked.
'Uh, no it's ok. I have some time to...kill. So, what's up?'
"Well, I had a...bad...dream."
'Oh? What was it about?'
She blushed.
"Well, it was weird. I dreamt that you were the Riddler and you..."
She trailed, there was no way she was going to admit she had a wet dream about him. Fat fucking chance.
"...you were really scary."
Edward smirked, looking through the scope of the rifle. Still no sign of Falcone. Fuck.
'Really? Well, that's weird. I bet it was scary indeed.' He feigned curiosity.
"Yeah..."
'Well, it's ok now. It was just a 'bad dream'.' He cooed, emphasizing the last two words.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, unsure of why he did that. But, Edward knew she was lying about the dream. He didn't doubt that she had a dream where he was the Riddler, though. Throughout their time hanging out, he had been leaving extremely subtle clues. Subliminal messages that would lead y/n onto his trail. But, he could easily tell when y/n was lying. When she lied, she had a habit of trailing off on words or adding emphasis to them. He could see right through her. He knew what the dream truly was. Maybe not the full context, but he knew what it was about.
"Sorry, I just wanted to call you. You always help me calm down."
'Of course, y/n. I'd do anything for you. And I mean anything.' He chuckled to himself as the clubs of the door opened.
"What are you doing Edward?"
'Shhh, you'll make me miss.' Edward giggled.
"Miss? Miss wh-"
The sound of a gunshot rang through the phone, echoing throughout the block as well. Y/n shot out of bed, running towards the window. Looking down, she saw cops around 44 Below. A street light shone down on a body and y/n gasped when she saw Bruce. Her eyes flickered towards Edward's window. There it was.
A sniper rifle.
"Edward!?"
'Oh, not now rabbit, I've got to run! I'll see you soon...'
The call hung up. Y/n stood there, phone limply held in her hand. She dropped it to the ground, seeing Bruce run into Edward's apartment. Her heart sunk in her chest, falling into the pit of her stomach. She was right about Edward.
And now he killed Falcone.
~
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adamlovesspecs · 5 months
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we need to acknowledge lord cassidy more often cause holy fuck hes so cute and sweet
cassie marry me i love you
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 19 days
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ring pop proposal ♡
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fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.
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the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.
soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.
you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.
“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.
mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.
she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.
he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.
you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.
“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.
“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”
“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.
katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.
“gave her one of these !”
“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”
katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.
“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.
she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.
she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.
mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.
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povlnfour · 4 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ BEACHED! (OP81)
pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader
summary: after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral
warnings: cheesy humour, chaos
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 98,002 others
yoursername shout out to australia, especially to the random dude in orange who saved my life from prematurely ending (note: waves in australia are brutal stay away if you can't swim)
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yourbsf NO FR SHOUT OUT TO KING I WAS TOO BUSY LAUGJING AND TAKING PHOTOS
yoursername I NEARLY DIED Y/B/F
yourbsf i was too busy giggling! your dream boy and first time he's seeing you is nearly drowning
friend1 Y/N DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS (6)
yoursername an australian?
user IS THAT OSCAR???
user oscar in papaya even on the beach… i fear he has no other clothes
user WHAT IS GOING ON
user NOT ME SEEING OSCAR TODAY AFTER HE SAVED A RANDOM GIRL FROM DROWNING?!?!
yoursername who tf is oscar
oscarpiastri hi! random dude in orange here
yourusername UM.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter reacts
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ dms with oscar
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted stories
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[captions:
1. treated the tour guide to lunch :)
2. note: don’t let an f1 driver drive the golf cart if you value your life. moments before i nearly died (again)]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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liked by oscarpiastri and 76,408 others
yourusername live evidence of the moment my tour guide turned on me
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user UHHHH
user oh so now they’re hanging out… i smell love at first sight
user NOT HIM DIVE BOMBING YOU????
oscarpiastri HEY i saved you again as well🙄
yourusername AFTER I SWALLOWED LIKE A GALLON OF WATER
friend1 @/yourbsf where were you during this murder attempt
yourbsf honey they don’t even know i’m here
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 224,517 others
oscarpiastri best way to get used to the aussie waves is to just go for it☀️
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user okay when will an f1 driver save ME from drowning and fall in love (and then try to drown me on two other occasions)
user hahaha i think they’re just friends
user GIRL ^ look at what he just posted dedicated to her and tell me he’s not already obsessed
yourusername please stop trying to end my life i have a child at home
user UM
oscarpiastri a dog. she has a dog.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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liked by oscarpiastri and 103,228 others
yourusername australia i am in love with your food, your weather, and certainly your people. i can’t wait to come back one day🤍
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user ‘and certainly your people’ 🥹🥹🥹
user i knew she was only on holiday but why am i legitimately sad she’s leaving?
user why am i crying for people i don’t know
user is the shirtless man in the bg of the third oscar😳
oscarpiastri don’t be a stranger🧡
ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with oscar (1&2) and your best friend
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ your username just posted a photo
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liked by 65,087 people
yourusername puppy therapy
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user no oscar in the likes again :(
user he’s so fluffy
user my heart aches so bad i want her back with oscar
user no fr i’m hoping that they can meet up when he’s travelling again :(
yourbsf coming over for a cuddle (with you and charlie pup)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
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replies…
user why do i feel like this is about y/n…
user i hope they still talk :(
user with the way they’ve been posting i don’t think they do :(
user sending you love oscar. you’ll smash next season🧡
user something definitely happened
user im guessing just summer romance that fizzled out now they’re both busy :(
ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 200,091 others
mclaren pre-season testing underway✅
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user did anyone see the interview he did on f1’s page?
user no what happened?
user they asked him about his winter break, and his smile faded so fast :/ then he just said he did a bit of exploring and moved the conversation on so fast
user god they. really fell for each other huh
user mclaren you have an opportunity to do the best thing. invite y/n to one of your races and reunite them please
ੈ✩‧₊˚ an email from mclaren
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with your best friend
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted a photo
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liked by 247,996 people
mclaren a special home race for oscar with even more special guests🇦🇺 #OP81
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user IS THAT… IS THAT CHARLIE PUP. IS THAT Y/N.
user DID MCLAREN TAKE OUR ADVICE
user IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING ARE MY LOVES REUNITING?
user IM HERE RN AND SHES DEFINITELY IN THE PADDOCK
user FOR REAL? HAS OSCAR SEEN HER?
user NOT YET BECAUSE HE’S BEEN IN PRACTICE SESSIONS BUT THEY FINISH SOON
ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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liked by oscarpiastri and 123,008 others
yourusername who said fairytales aren’t real
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user OH MY GOD ITS OFFICIAL
user i would like to thank mclaren
user why am i crying. i don’t know these people
oscarpiastri and in all 100 versions of the story, i’d always choose you
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 247,721 others
oscarpiastri i guess i was the real race winner after all
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user THE CAPTION IM SOBBING
user can’t believe y/n went from nearly drowning to dating the internet’s boyfriend
yourusername can’t wait to have my life threatened by you for years to come
oscarpiastri okay nearly backing over you was an ACCIDENT
mclaren you’re welcome😉
landonorris when is it my turn
mclaren challenge accepted…
landonorris NO NO NO I TAKE IT BACK
————
a/n: HIHIHI i hope this lived up to expectations omg. the snippet for this went crazy but i don’t know if this is good EEK
huge thank you to EVERYONE for all the love in my inbox and comments recently, i’ve had so much fun writing these smaus so it’s been great to see everyone’s thoughts🤍
this will most likely be my last one shot posted before christmas with not funny (didn’t laugh) being my first post afterwards, so i want to say a huge merry christmas to all who celebrate!!
and finally. thank you for 800 followers!!! merci du fond du coeur. ça représente beaucoup pour moi🤍🤍🤍
- giselle / zellie / gigi / elle / gi i havE SO MANY NAMES
taglist (found here): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings @treehouse-mouse @iloveyou3000morgan @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers
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clairenatural · 6 months
Text
Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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caxde · 1 month
Text
bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3
It was warm outside. 
Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping. 
You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer. 
You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve. 
You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door. 
You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could. 
“Hi.” 
It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes. 
“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out. 
She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded. 
“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her. 
You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun. 
“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you. 
“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you. 
“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers. 
But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty. 
pretty, pretty, pretty. 
Your cheeks become warmer, pinker. 
As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said. 
He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms. 
He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips. 
You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him. 
“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner. 
“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider. 
If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close. 
He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet. 
He wasn’t used to this though. 
A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom. 
“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms. 
Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment. 
The thought made him smile to himself.
“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction. 
He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile. 
Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him. 
But you didn’t. 
Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met. 
“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean. 
“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours. 
“That’s us.” 
“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple. 
“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…” 
He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back. 
You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened. 
You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind. 
It felt as if you were finally on the right path. 
-
“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window. 
She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 
“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa. 
He could scream out of excitement once she finally did. 
“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door. 
She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you. 
Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him. 
“Once I get back from work, deal?” 
Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up. 
He enjoyed this little moment. 
Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of. 
Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment. 
“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her. 
“She did.” 
“Who?” 
“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window. 
“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning. 
“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard. 
“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy. 
“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you. 
“Okay bug, see you in a bit?” 
“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss. 
“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him. 
“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded. 
And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home. 
You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally. 
“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him. 
He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up. 
“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets. 
“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in. 
“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up. 
“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-” 
“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?” 
Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing. 
While you had to try hard to hide your excitement. 
“You don’t have to…” 
“Shut up. She deserves it.” 
Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse. 
“What time were you thinking?” 
“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…” 
“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.” 
He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway. 
“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush. 
“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.” 
He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot. 
-
You might have gone a bit overboard. 
You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe. 
The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one. 
Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics. 
You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control. 
Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing. 
A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began. 
“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready. 
Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to. 
Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard. 
“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think. 
“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad. 
Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her. 
He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough. 
Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around. 
Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette  tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways. 
“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no. 
“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music. 
The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.
“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely. 
He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was. 
“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.” 
“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?” 
“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response. 
“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning. 
“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you. 
“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach. 
“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them. 
-
You were on the couch. 
Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really. 
You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily. 
Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good. 
He didn’t really know you. 
Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet. 
Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough. 
It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there. 
Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while. 
You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much. 
While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much. 
You didn’t care. Not at all. 
Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.
-
part 2 is up!
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference &lt;3
requests! are open
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luveline · 8 months
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could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her
tysm for requesting, 1k
Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 
You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 
You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 
Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 
What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 
Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.
She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 
What if you're forcing yourself on him? 
You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 
Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 
"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.
Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 
"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 
The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 
Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 
"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 
"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 
"Don't rush it for my sake."
Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 
Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.
You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 
His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 
"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"
You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 
"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 
"What?" 
"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 
"What's not a good idea?" 
You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 
"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 
"I don't want to torture you," you say. 
Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 
Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 
You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 
He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 
"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 
Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 
And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 
"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 
You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.
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dudeitiskarev · 26 days
Text
I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.
Word count: 2.4k.
Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.
Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!
MASTERLIST
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A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.
Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.
You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.
“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.
“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”
“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”
The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.
It was his soul returning to his body.
He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.
All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.
You were alive.
“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.
Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.
“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.
Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.
“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.
“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.
“JJ?”
“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”
Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.
“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”
It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.
“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.
“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”
Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.
This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.
“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.
“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”
Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.
God, if you don’t ever wake up—
“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.
She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.
“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.
“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”
Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.
“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”
Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.
“García,” Gideon insisted.
A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.
“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”
“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.
Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.
“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”
Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.
It was just you and him.
The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.
As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.
Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.
He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.
Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.
He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.
His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.
“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”
He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.
“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.
You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.
“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.
He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.
“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.
“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”
It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.
“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”
You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.
Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.
It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.
Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.
Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.
“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”
He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.
“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”
Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.
The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.
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It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.
“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.
Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.
You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.
“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”
It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.
He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.
A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.
Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.
Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.
Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.
Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.
“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.
Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.
“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.
You were awake.
Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.
You coughed and writhed with discomfort.
“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.
You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”
Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.
“Hi,” he merely said.
You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.
“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.
“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”
“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.
This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.
“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”
The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.
“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.
“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”
“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.
The guilt was still there.
“But I didn’t.”
“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.
“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”
He chuckled. “Barely.”
“It looks good. I like it.”
He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.
“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.
“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.
Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.
“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”
“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.
“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”
I love you, he thought.
“How could I not?” he said instead.
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Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.
I hope you liked it!!!!
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
Text
— TRAPPED (WORDS NOT SAID)
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pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
warnings: cold!corio, murder, nc kissing, possessiveness, very controlling thoughts and actions, arranged marriage, cheating, dark-ish themes since he’s literally insane HAVE U SEEN THE BOOKS? not proof read
summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.
word count: 1.9k words
a/n: i don’t usually write toxic shit but like that’s the definition of snow and his cute lil intrusive thoughts so here u go 😘 this man is a bad man especially after lucy. so i find it so funny when he’s super sweet in some fics but he’s super like ooh she needs protection, oh she’s fragile you get me???
PLEASE READ WARNINGS
there was no point in crying.
you knew that.
but at the prospect of marrying a man whom you barely even knew scared the hell out of you, and the thought of not being with your albeit secret boyfriend, not getting to marry him, start a life with him? it was unbearable.
your dress was crisp white, like snow. of course.
the memories of that day were jumbled in your head, you remember being stuffed into a dress, your hair and face being pulled every which way and holding coriolanus’s hands as you listened to his vows, void of emotion in the eyes but with a slight smile on his face. you couldn’t even recall what happened afterwards. and you didn’t want to. coriolanus hadn’t even let you properly bid your family farewell before he’d sweeped you away to your new home, courtesy of your parents and the plinths.
and even if your home was cold and distant you tried your best to be nice and easy with snow. you’d wear what he wanted, did what he wanted and everything else. you could tell he found comfort in control, knowing what was happening, being able to tell people what to do. even if you hated to admit it, it suited him.
in a rare moment, his mask would slip. the mask that kept his true thoughts and emotions neatly stored away, it would fall. and you revelled in them, a genuine smile, across his face. but as soon as it slipped, his walls were back up and he was straightening his red coat and out the door.
over the next months you’d learnt to keep yourself in check, there was no point in trying to bond with coriolanus, he knew his boundaries in your relationship? marriage? whatever it was, it was just on paper. you were mere passing acquaintances at best. you’d have breakfast together, he’d leave the house, you’d occupy yourself with the house, the library, entertainment, shopping, he’d come home, dinner and then off to your rooms.
but over a few weeks ago you’d met someone new.
andrenis was insanely gorgeous, his eyes shone in the sun and his brown hair reminded you of chocolate. he was breathtaking and he loved you. it’d been so long since you felt love, pure and devoted love to someone. the vacant halls of coriolanus’s and yours home were at the back of your mind in his presence.
at first youd started of friends of course and as you continued you felt, alive. every time he looked at you, talked to you everything faded to the back of your mind. but what you didn’t know was that snow had taken note. he’d noticed you skipping out on breakfast at times, your maids always claiming that you’d been reading late, working late and so on.
working late? you were married to him, what work could you possible have? why were you sleeping so late? could you not do your reading during the day? what was taking your attention, who?
even if you didn’t talk much, let alone see eachother you were a constant in his life now. something that gave him comfort of sorts. small talk with you in the morning and night, seeing you in the halls, your laugh echoing through the halls as you talked with staff, your scent lingering in the library and the drops of blood on his roses, since you were the only person whom he allowed to tend to them.
for him, you were security.
he knew you wouldn’t leave since you had no reason to. there was no love holding you to this relationship, you had a comfortable life, your friends and family in your reach and the luxury that you lived in. you were free, in your eyes. but in reality the second your own pen touched that paper and you signed the certificate your life was taken from you. even if you didn’t know it, coriolanus had been monitoring you from afar.
keeping track of what you did, where you went, what you spent. it was all to make sure you made it home of course. nothing less, nothing more.
so imagine his surprise when he heard reports of you sneaking out of the house and returning in the early hours of the morning.
for some reason he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his heart. why on earth would you be sneaking out? was this home not enough? the roof over your head and the food in your stomach? the bed you sleep in and the man you call your husband. your loyalty should be unwavering yet here he was, watching you creep out of the house through the servants quarters.
his jaw clenched and his fists curled as you laid your hands against his chest, foreheads against the others. “i’ve missed you my love.” the man’s voice echoed through his head.
words he’d never said to you.
“i know, but we are together and that is all that matters. i love you andrenis.”
words you’d never said to him.
“i’m to visit district 12, my father wishes for me to visit my brother. you know what he did, his punishment was to be a peacekeeper. but his time is up and mother misses him terribly. i do not know how long i will be y/n, but i will bring you back whatever you wish.”
“and what exactly will you get from district 12 that my dear wife will will not be able to get here?” it wasn’t a question, even if it was said as one. there was not a single thing that he wouldn’t give his wife. to keep up your appearances of course, he couldn’t have you going without something you wanted.
your heart was racing and your hands sweaty as you instantly pulled away from andrenis. snows eyes bore into his, andrenis breathed deeply before speaking, “coriolanus. you look good, rising above the ranks, marrying up are we?”
andrenis layworth. not only did coriolanus despise him but he knew how he truly acted. he should’ve stayed away from things that weren’t his, never were and never would be.
“andrenis!” you scolded him, it was already embarrassing in your eyes to be caught with him by your husband but you wouldn’t let him mock coriolanus.
your husband reached his hand out towards you, and you accepted as he spoke up. “i hope your travels are safe, andrenis.” the two of you walked away, him placing you into the car before shutting the door. he tapped on the back as you drove back home, without him to your surprise.
andrenis was taken aback. in all the time he’d been with you, you’d failed to mention your husband was him. and as much as andrenis would hate to say it, snow did intimidate him. nowadays at least. he rarely showed emotion, he was always proper and dressed appropriately, but all that didn’t matter when snow had his mind. his wit, intelligence and cunning was far more impressive than most.
he’d always kept himself in check.
but as coriolanus snow walked towards him with certainty he backed himself all the way into the dark alley as he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the wall. “my wife. she is my wife, no one else’s. just because your pockets may be deeper than mine does not mean that i won’t hesitate to get you out of my way. you could never be worthy of her and if you so much as look at her, i will make sure you will never see the light of day. perhaps you’ll have a fall, or a crash with your traitor brother?”
the mask had fallen and the only thing left behind it was pure rage.
“or maybe we’ll hang? what would that be, three deaths on your hands?” andrenis smirked as coriolanus’s face dropped. he grabbed andrenis and shoved him infront, pushing him to walk. “you’re going to district 12 and you will never come out.” andrenis laughed loudly, “such terror you impose, poor coriolanus, clawing his way to the top. marrying a woman by force-”
“on second thought.”
a single gun shot rung through the air.
“district 12 isn’t low enough for you.” snow spoke as andrenis tried to crawl away from him. “no place on earth deserves the dishonour of having you waste their resources. the air you breathe is a privilege, that should not be taken by you.” coriolanus pulled him up by his hair, “the second you decided to be with her, was the day that you died.”
andrenis’s eyes were closing, fear swimming around. but corio couldn’t bring himself to care. his mind was clouded, for once he wasn’t thinking clearly. as he walked back into the house he saw you, sat with your head in your hands, jumping up at the sound of him entering. “corio.”
his heart was beating erratically at the sound of your voice, so soft and welcoming. why hadn’t he noticed your sweetness before?
“i’m so sorry, i- i was weak. we rarely speak to eachother, let alone allow ourselves to love. with andrenis, he reminded me of it, reminded me how it felt to love and to be loved. i won’t see him again, i promise.”
so submissive, rather than standing your ground. getting angry at him for forcing you into the marriage, for not talking to you, you were apologising. whilst you may have been disloyal he saw it only as a weakness. a bad habit to which he could help, he could fix. and he knew you’d keep your promise, not because you’d try your hardest but because andrenis was a cold stiff body in the bottom of a construction site. a mugging victim? an accident? it didn’t matter how his passing was seen as, he was gone and he’d never return.
he’d made sure of it.
as he walked towards you the scene from before replayed in his head as you walked backwards with every step you took, and in your eyes he saw what he craved to enforce, terror. and you were so small to him, something fragile, in need of control and order.
“don’t worry, i’ll keep you safe, i’m all you need.” corio spoke as his face got closer. the rise and fall of your chest was rapid, your eyes were wide as you realised what he was trying to do. you quickly turned your head but he quickly forced you to look at him, fingers digging into your face, “i give you everything, i will always give you everything. you deserve nothing but the best and i am the only one who can give it to you, you need me. do you understand?” he questioned as you began to cry, you’d never seen him so unhinged. his hair was slightly out of place, a strand infront of his eye.
(zayn malik vibes)
his coat was off, most likely hung on the door way and his sleeves were rolled, his usually pristine white shirt was crinkled, dirty. what had he been doing after you left? you’d gotten your answer as your teary eyes blinked away the tears, focused on his bare arms,
blood.
“corio, please. what did you do?” you cried as his hand made its way to your neck as he pressed your forehead to his, your stomach swirling and head spinning as a sense of deja vu crossed you, andrenis.
“what i had to, i will always do what i have to. nothing is ever handed to me.”
“you didn’t-”
he laughed, “snow lands on top, in life and on you.”
(going to puke why did i write that it’s so cringe)
the kiss was nothing like you ever had. it wasn’t sweet, passionate, rather hungry, as if he was chasing you, afraid you’d run. as if you could, he’d let one girl get away and with how he looked at you in this moment?
you were trapped.
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