#I had the right response but overthought it

[cokoweee]

I was thinking about how you said your next animatic/animation would focus on Kendra’s POV, and it does make me wonder…

The comic is told with some perspective of Kendra’s and Donnie’s thoughts, but not all. So I do wonder if there is an internal monologue Kendra is hiding where even she tries to ignore it?

She mentioned how she won’t can’t go home, because of her past crimes and perceived judgment from her family, because she was barely scraping by on her own despite her incredible intelligence and ingenuity.

She has enough care to provide protection for herself (taser) and maintain her appearance, but still put herself at risk with weekly, random sugar daddy dates.

Kendra has to exude confidence or the world would eat her up, but she possibly has a very fragile view of herself. She only partakes occasionally in tech and computers now, whether from therapy or a fear of reverting, so she holds herself back from things that gave her passion.

She first starts kicking Donnie out of his bed, because she possibly saw herself at her lowest and it gutted her to see someone who was her equal in smarts, computing, and cavalier literally rotting away.

She tries using techniques she learned in therapy and is frustrated when they seemingly don’t work.

And even though she gets irate with Donnie’s depression, she still tries to initiate conversation even if snarky. Because Donnie biting back is better than him staring at her with his soulless gaze.

So because of all this Kendra could start feeling this bond with someone she can relate to on the smallest scale.

And now this person is pushing her away.

For now, she thinks it’s from irritation over the lake incident.

When she finds out it’s because she’s not “one of them”, Donnie’s afraid, she might break…or run away… or fall into a deeper depression of her own.

(Why is this always 3 am!?)

Mmm yes 3am asks like this are what keep me munching on this comic ngl

There is a thick bit I don’t write/show to y’all for a couple reasons. Either it’s uninteresting or it’s a difficult-ish thing to write/draw. Emotions are difficult for me but I do the best I can. I’m better at faces rather than words.

You’re pretty spot on with how she is yuh. I’m struggling with words but sumthin sumthin she does the most of what she thinks she deserves. Also despite not wanting to admit it she rlly is kinda attached to everyone around her now. It rlly is gunna suck if they truly decide to leave without her

If there’s more to add someone add cause I forgot how words work😩😩😩

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Devil's Snare part.5

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Description: Aemond introduces Y/N to his mother as his betrothed, much to the displeasure of Otto Hightower. The strength of their love for one another is tested by the whispers which spread throughout the court of the one-eyed Prince and his strange choice to wed his handmaiden. All the while, Aemond is insistent that Y/N meet Vhagar.

Previous part

Writer's note: I am so sorry this took so long! I had major writer's block and overthought the hell out of it. Its giving "started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit" for the people who get that reference 😂. Also wanted to avoid HOTD content when the leaks happened. We finally get the wedding in this part so shout out to @ateliefloresdaprimavera this one's for you! Unsure whether you guys want this to continue into the dance of dragons plot, I might need to diverge from canon. I thought I'd do a Lord of the Tides part next as a test run.

Warnings: female reader, canon typical misogyny, slut shaming, Granny Vhagar (in the flesh this time), sexual innuendo but no smut (sorry, I just don't read it so don't think I could write it well), lengthy as always.

Y/N felt nervous butterflies fluttering against her ribcage as Aemond led her along the halls of the Red Keep to his mother's chambers, grounded only by the feel of his hand wrapped around hers. It was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, so anxious was she of the Queen's response to her son's decision to marry her, a mere handmaiden. But she could not bear to hold Aemond back any longer, not when his face glowed with such happiness. Besides, she did not think he'd allow her to go back on her word now she'd promised herself to him. He'd all but taken her breath away with the force with which he'd kissed her and grabbed her hand to pull her from his chambers almost immediately afterwards in his eagerness. She'd subconsciously halted where she stood, her thoughts panicked and frenzied as she realised the weight of her words and that Aemond really meant to waste no more time in informing his mother, the Queen herself. Aemond, however, was all too impatient to marry the girl he loved. 

Stopping as he felt her hand go limp in his he turned to her, assessing the panic on her face. Suddenly taking hold of her waist, he pulled her against him so that their bodies seemed to melt into one another, causing Y/N to blush a furious shade of scarlet as she felt the contours of his body against hers. Aemond smirked, always pleased he was able to have such an affect over her. "I'm afraid my patience has been entirely spent, my love. I can tarry no longer in making you my wife. I will carry you to my mother's chambers if I must." His hand tightened around her waist, not enough to hurt but enough to make her gasp as she realised he may actually be serious. Strengthening her grip on his hand, she stuttered out a semblance of a response. "That will not be necessary, My Prince." Aemond's eyebrows shot up at that. "I am no longer just Aemond to you?"

Y/N's blush deepened at her blunder, hoping she hadn't offended him in her state of nervousness. "I am sorry, my love. It just slipped out."

Aemond's face softened and he lightly trailed a hand across her face. "You have not called me that before." Y/N realised he was right. Aemond was so free with his affections, with terms of endearment, but this seemed to be the last layer of intimacy she had struggled to breakthrough. Y/N looked down, somewhat ashamed that she had been so slow to offer Aemond the love he gave so freely in return, feeling strongly that she did not deserve him. Her chin was tilted upwards by a gentle hand as Aemond brushed his lips against hers, the ghost of a kiss. "It matters not what you call me, only call me yours and I should be content." Y/N felt such a strong surge of love for Aemond in that moment, in light of his understanding of her difficulty expressing affection and his unfaltering patience with her nonetheless. She felt her nerves dissipate a little, and grabbing his hand more resolutely she led them from his chambers herself.

Aemond had been pleased Y/N had gone willingly, he had not been jesting when he told her he'd carry her to his mother's chambers. He knew that she loved him and it was only the opinions of others that concerned her, and Aemond could no longer allow such unfounded fears to delay their union. He wanted her and by the grace of the Seven she wanted him too. That was all that mattered to him now, and he was prepared to fight for the girl he loved, from any opposition they may face. Aemond strode purposefully towards his mother's chambers, having no care for the lateness of the evening, but slowed as he felt Y/N's grip loosen oncemore, looking back to see her tailing behind him. Sighing, he lowered his torso to meet her eyes. "Y/N I will put you over my shoulder. Unless you have decided you will not have me after all?" He hated the tinge of insecurity that laced his voice.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with alarm. "That is not what I want. I wish to be your wife. I am only frightened of meeting your mother."

Aemond took hold of her elbows. "I assure you there is nothing to fear. She will love you in time as I do. I will not allow anyone to come between us."

"You sound so certain."

Aemond shot Y/N a roguish grin. "You can depend upon it. Come now." Reclaiming her hand he pulled them down the final corridor which led to his mother's chambers, addressing his mother's sworn protector before they'd even reached the end of the hall. "Ser Criston, I would speak with my mother."

Ser Criston's eyebrows pulled into a confused frown as his eyes flitted between the Prince's serious expression and the hand which clasped his handmaiden's. "The hour is late, my prince. Her grace is presently engaged with the Hand of the King."

Aemond startled slightly before schooling his features into a mask of calm, not wishing to alarm Y/N any more. He had not expected to contend with both his mother and Otto Hightower this night, but it mattered little. He had no intention of backing down on the matter of his marriage to Y/N, whatever the opposition.

"It is no matter Cole, my mother will be gladdened by the news I bring her."

Aemond was not certain of this fact, but he assumed an air of self-assurance nonetheless as he released Y/N's hand to pat Criston on the shoulder, pushing the door to his mother's chambers open.

His mother's eyes snapped up to him as he entered, Y/N shuffling in behind him whilst lightly clutching onto his tunic. He discreetly reached behind him to take hold of her free hand, hoping to provide her some degree of comfort. His mother looked flushed as if she had just been shouting and his good eye immediately sought out the object of her distress, landing on his grandsire Otto whose expression was one of irritation. Aemond narrowed his eyes at the scene before him, clearly he had interrupted an argument. He loved his mother and had never forgotten how she had been the only one to speak up for him and defend him on driftmark when he had lost his eye. Fixing Otto with a stern glare he returned his gaze to his mother. "Mother, I wish to introduce you to my betrothed. I have asked Y/N to marry me and, happily, she has agreed to become my wife." Aemond spoke with finality, he would not prevaricate or draw this out any longer than he needed to. An eery silence followed for an agonisingly long time before Alicent rose to meet Aemond, hands reaching out towards him. He regretfully released Y/N's hand to take his mother's proferred hands. She spoke softly as if to a young child who needed to be coaxed away from doing something dangerous. "Aemond, she is your handmaiden."

"She was my handmaiden, she is my lady now."

Alicent shook her head and closed her eyes, as if when she opened them again the image of Aemond and his handmaiden would only have been a figment of her imaginings. When she opened them and observed her son's determined expression, she blanched. "Aemond, you cannot mean to marry a servant. You are a Prince of the realm and you know it is your duty to marry for the benefit of the crown. I'm sure your handmaiden is lovely, but she is not a suitable marriage prospect."

Aemond's own tone sharpened. He misliked his mother talking as if Y/N was not standing right behind him, her own hand tightening on his tunic.

"Mother, I did not come to argue with you. The matter is settled. I love her and will marry no other. Would you deny me this happiness I have been fortunate enough to find, after all I have lost?" Aemond began to hope his mother was losing her resolve as her eyes softened, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek. But it was at that moment that Otto hightower broke his silence. "Will you truly entertain this nonsense Alicent?"

Then turning to Aemond, "Are you so foolish boy? Or have you got the girl with child? There are other ways of dealing with this than sullying your title with a marriage to a low born girl." Alicnet had to push against Aemond's chest as his face contorted in anger, taking a step forward towards his grandsire. He practically snarled in response. "I will not suffer insults to my betrothed or allow you to taint her honour with your vile assumptions."

Otto's anger only rose to match Aemond's as he shouted back at him. "It would be an embarasment for your family, for your House, for the crown itself. Do you care for nothing but your own base desires, boy?"

Aemond's voice was dangerously low and seething. "My love for Y/N is pure, there is nothing base about it. I'll thank you to watch your words, grandsire. I intend to serve my House dutifully with Y/N at my side. Am I not our House's strongest sword? Do I not ride the largest and most ancient dragon in the world?"

Seemingly writing Aemond off as a lost cause, he looked around the Prince to the girl cowering behind him. Perhaps she might be swayed to sense.

"Girl, you must know that this would be a disastrous match for the realm. I am sure you must feel something for the Prince. Would you not then see him ascend to his rightful position and marry for the good of the realm?

The girl's face turned disconsolate. Aemond lost his composure entirely, brushing past his mother and advancing on his grandsire, each word laced with venom. "Do not speak to her as if she were just an object to be dispensed with when it is no longer of use."

Otto's eyes flitted back to the girl, ignoring his nephew's attempts at intimidation. He was sure Ser Criston would intervene if it came to violence.

"What will you take to renounce this farcical pact? A girl like you should want for security, the path you tread will offer you only strife and judgement. Will you take coin, jewels, an elevated position perhaps?"

He watched his nephew's reaction closely for any sign he would strike, coiled as he was like a viper.

Instead, he saw his nephew's face crumple and his good eye widen. Mayhaps he feared the girl would take him up on his offer.

Looking back to the girl, Otto was startled by the fierceness of the glare she now levelled at him. She'd only seemed a timid creature moments before, easily malleable to his will. She took determined steps forward until she stood next to Aemond, taking his hand in hers. Looking steadfastly up at Otto, she spoke for the first time with an air of confidence he had not expected from her. "I love Prince Aemond and I will not abandon him, whatever you offer me." His nephew's face softened as he gazed down at the girl, perhaps he had not expected such a reaction from her either. Before Otto could incite Aemond enough to strike him, Alicent intervened. "Aemond, we will discuss this further tomorrow. I will have separate chambers prepared for Y/N. She cannot be permitted to continue in service as your handmaiden if these are your wishes. It would continue to raise questions." Alicent knew her son. He was determined and unlike to make a vow he did not mean.

Aemond smiled at his mother, pleased by her softened resolve, though she still looked unconvinced. "Very well Mother, thank you. I will see you on the morrow." Lightly pulling Y/N with him he quickly strode from the room, not stopping until they had passed along several hallways and were far from his mother's chambers. Halting without warning, Y/N almost bumped into him before he caught her, wrapping her up in his arms and leaning his head down to rest against her shoulder.

"Thank you, my brave girl."

Aemond had felt a deeper scar than the one he bore upon his face begin to heal over as Y/N had affirmed her love for him, standing up to the Hand of the King himself to remain at his side. He could not put into words how much her actions had meant to him, knowing how difficult it must have been for her to do so. He cursed himself for believing, just for a moment, there was a possibility of Y/N taking Otto up on one of his sordid offers, so used was he to being the second choice as the second son, and even then it was only Rhaenyra his father truly cared for. He knew how inherently good Y/N was, how she returned his love, and decided his faith would never falter again. Releasing his hold on her he slid his hand down her arm before interlocking their hands. "Come, I will walk you back to the servant's quarters for tonight. Tomorrow you will have more adequate chambers fit for a princess."

Y/N lightly swatted at Aemond's chest. "Aemond, it would scare the servant's half to death for a Prince to show up unannounced at this hour. Rumours will run rife. And I am no princess."

"I do not care, my love I wish to walk my betrothed safely to her door. Besides, you shall be my princess shortly and I wish you to be treated as such. I would shower you with jewels if you would allow it."

Y/N blushed, looking down at the ground. "I have no need of extravagant gifts, Aemond. You know I have always managed quite well with my room in the Keep and with less before that."

Aemond frowned, his heart dropping at the thought of the hardships Y/N must have faced whilst his every need was tended to in the Keep. "I do not like to think of you suffering any deprivation." Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly. "It was not so bad, I was very lucky to secure a position in the crown's service at a young age."

Aemond tucked a tendril of hair behind Y/N's ear, smiling softly at her and humming as if in thought. "Well, if you will not take jewels, I will need to find another way to express my adoration for you, little one."

Aemond made good on his promise, and everyday a squire would arrive at Y/N's newly appointed chambers to deliver a bouquet of bluebells to her door. Y/N had no idea how Aemond was managing to get hold of so many bluebells, aware as she was that they did not grow within the grounds of Kings Landing, but she adored them and her heart fluttered at the Prince's thoughtfulness. He had heeded her previous rejection of jewels, but he sent her gifts he thought would be more acceptable to her instead; books he thought she might like to read, as thanks to him and Helaena this had become a favourite past time of hers, new gowns in the colours of his House, which made the prospect of their marriage feel more real to her, that she really would be his lady. But it was the flowers that made her feel closer to him as her abrupt change of circumstances meant she could no longer spend time with him alone in his chambers, and she missed him when he was attending to his duties during the day.

She would have been bored out of her mind if not for the company of Helaena who was only too happy to receive her as a sister. She spent the better part of her days in Helaena's chambers, either playing with the little Prince Jahaerys and his sister Princess Jahaera, or discussing her upcoming nuptials with the Princess Helaena. Aemond came to see her at least once a day when it was permitted in his sister's chambers, or she would come to watch him in the training yard. But she misliked the stares she received and found herself seeing Aemond less and less as a result. The Queen had tentatively consented to her marriage with Aemond, despite the Hand's open distate, but she had not spoken to Y/N since. She was all too aware how the Queen and her father saw her as a burden to the Prince, to House Targaryen. As such, the wedding was set to be a small affair, which suited Y/N's shy nature. Though she did hope that in time she might be able to bond with the Queen if she truly saw how happy she and Aemond were together. What mother would not wish their son to be happy?

Rounding a corridor on the way to Helaena's chambers, Y/N heard giggles and muffled whispers, halting in her tracks as she heard the repeated refrain of Aemond's name.

"The Prince Aemond...marrying his handmaiden."

"With child, surely?"

"It is a wonder she is not frightened of him with that scar."

"I could not do it."

"Perhaps no other ladies of the court could stand it?"

She struggled to discern the nature of the conversation between the three ladies of the court, only picking out bits and pieces at first. But when she pieced it together she felt her blood heat as outrage rose up within her.

Before she could think through her actions, Y/N stepped out from behind the wall which concealed her and stormed towards the three ladies who glanced up at the heavy tread of her steps. "You should not speak of the Prince in such a manner. Have you no shame, no respect for the Crown?" The lady closest to her scowled, shifting her raven hair over her shoulders as she upturned her nose at Y/N. "Who are you to presume you can dictate what we should or should not discuss? This is a private conversation."

Y/N was sure she must resemble Vhagar, though she'd never seen the she-dragon, with her own flames pouring forth from her in the form of her heated cheeks. "I am the Prince Aemond's betrothed you speak of. I will not allow you to sully the Prince's name with your false rumours or distasteful remarks about the scar he bears through no fault of his own." The raven haired lady's tone turned mocking then. "So you are the handmaiden then? How dare you talk to your betters this way? Know your place girl."

Y/N's fists clenched unconsciously. "My place is beside the Prince, or defending him from ignorant people like you who would insult him over something entirely out of his control. I must refute your cruel assumptions. The Prince is a noble warrior, a fierce dragon rider, and a dedicated scholar, deserving of your respect. Greater still, he is kind and a gentleman, and I do not fear him in the slightest. Any lady would be lucky to receive his affections and it is my good fortune that he has decided to bestow them on me, though I am but a lowly handmaiden as you say. This only speaks more to his character, that he is able to see past the physical appearance of things, unlike certain members of this court."

Chest heaving, her breath coming in short pants as she finished her tirade, Y/N glared at the three ladies, daring them to speak another word against Aemond.

The raven haired girl took a step towards her, a clear attempt at intimidation. "Be careful girl. You are not wed yet. Who knows how long you will have Prince Aemond's favour. The love of a Prince is a fickle, fleeting thing." When Y/N only continue to scorch her with her glare, the three ladies stalked away. Y/N could feel herself still trembling slightly in her anger at the insults levelled at Aemond. She had never stood up to anyone, her naturally timid nature and status as a servant did not lend themselves to such agency. Though she felt a sense of satisfaction in having done so in defence of the man she loved.

Alicent Hightower had been making her way to her daughter's chambers when she came across the odd sight of the girl, Y/N, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice to three ladies of the court. Shocked at first that she should be so brazen, she stepped forward to intervene, quickly relenting once she approached close enough to hear the nature of the girl's tirade. Instead, the Queen felt her heart warming to the girl as she heard her passionate defence of her son, beginning to understand the depth of Aemond's feelings for the girl. No one save herself had ever defended him so steadfastly. And Alicent could admit that even she had been somewhat lax in expressing her affections for Aemond. This girl clearly loved her son, unconditionally so, and Alicent could not but help to feel grateful to her for this fact. She loved all of her children and wanted them to feel safe and loved. The King barely took note of Aemond, no matter how hard he tried to embody the traits of a true Targaryen, whilst he revered Rhaenyra's plain featured bastards. It was an insult to all decency. In that moment, Alicent resolved to accept this marriage fully and try to bond with the girl, Y/N she reminded herself. Aemond deserved to be loved and she would defend his right to marry the girl should her father or husband express any further opposition.

Aemond was surprised to be summoned to his mother's chambers that evening, she spent the greater portion of her time with Helaena and rarely sent for him. Though he often wished she would show him more affectation as his mother. He grew concerned she wished to talk him out of his engagement with Y/N, already having tentatively expressed her apprehension to the match to no avail. He would not hear anymore on the matter if that were the case.

"Prince Aemond, your grace."

"Thank you Ser Criston."

Aemond entered his mother's chambers as Cole announced him, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind his back.

Hi mother waited until Cole had shut the door behind him before taking both his hands in her own. "I wish to talk to you on Y/N, Aemond."

"Mother..."

"No, let me speak my peace. I wish only to tell you that I approve of your marriage to the girl and give you my blessing. I will defend your choice alongside you should the need arise again. Though I believe your grandsire has written it off as a lost cause and you well know your father's condition."

Aemond squeezed his mother's hands, hardly believing such a change could have come about so suddenly. "I thank you, Mother. May I ask what has prompted you to change your opinion on Y/N?"

Aemond felt the love he had always wished for from his mother as she smiled warmly up at him. "You'll be pleased to know your betrothed is not so timid as she seems. I came across her defending you quite passionately against three members of the court today. She would hear no insult to your name or your intentions towards her, and made her love and respect for you abundantly clear to the three ladies...and to myself. I confess myself greatly moved by her love for my son."

Aemond felt pride rise within him at Y/N's defence of him and his love grow for her if that were even possible. Taking his mother's hand to place a kiss upon her knuckles, he released her to go and thank his lady. "My heart is gladdened to hear of it mother, and grateful for the affect it has had upon your own. I will bid you goodnight now."

Y/N jumped at the sound of a knock at her chamber door. The hour was late and she had been preparing for bed. She was not entirely certain she should be opening the door in her night dress at this hour but did not wish to be rude if it were a matter of importance, a summons from the Queen herself even. Y/N had barely taken the lock of the latch and opened the door before she was unceremoniously crushed to Aemond's chest, shrieking as she was lifted into the air and spun until her back met the door as he quickly swung it closed, shushing her as he did so. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck reflexively, though she knew he would not drop her. "Aemond what in the Seven..?"

Aemond silenced her with a kiss that took her breath away as he continued to hold her against his body. Melting into his kiss, Y/N tangled her hands in his hair, not caring anymore for the abruptness of his greeting. Pulling away so they could catch their breath, Aemond gently set her down though he kept a hold on her waist. To Y/N, his face looked ethereal in the soft glow of the candle light as he smiled at her.

"I apologise for startling you, my love. I did not wish anyone to see me enter given the lateness of the hour."

Y/N was half dazed by Aemond's proximity and the tingling sensation on her lips from when he'd kissed her, but she willed herself not to just stand gaping at him. "And what brings you to my chambers at this hour?" Her tone was light and teasing. She had missed him and was glad he'd come to see her whatever his reason.

Aemond stepped closer towards Y/N before bringing his lips to her jaw. Y/N gasped softly, but pulled him closer to her instinctively as he kissed down her jaw and spoke against her skin. "I came to thank you for defending me. My mother spoke of it to me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as Aemond began to kiss her neck but tried to maintain a degree of composure to respond to him. She had not been aware of the Queen's presence at the time. "I did not like to hear others speak badly of you. They do not know you as I do." Y/N lifted a hand to stroke his hair as Aemond hummed in response, planting a kiss against her clavicle just above the neckline of her night gown. Her eyes flew open as she realised for the first time that she was, in fact, only in her night gown and the situation was less than appropriate. Pushing Aemond back slightly by his shoulders she tried to keep her voice quiet so as not to alert anyone who might pass by to Aemond's presence in her chambers. "Aemond, I'm only in my night gown!"

Aemond looked confused that she had only just realised this. "I'm well aware, you look beautiful."

Y/N blushed scarlet. "That's not what I meant. But if we're seen together like this, people will think..." She trailed off, hoping Aemond would understand her concerns without her having to spell it out.

Aemond grinned at her. "I only wished to thank my lady for defending my honour. Having done so I shall depart forthwith. I will be discreet." He took Y/N's hand and pulled her with him as he quietly opened the chamber door, glancing around for any signs of movement. Quickly turning to bid his lady goodnight with a final peck on the lips, he shut the door behind him and hurried back to his own chambers, unable to contain his smile as the image of Y/N's flushed cheeks and hair mussed from his ministrations swam in his mind.

Y/N shivered as a cold breeze blew through the courtyard of the Red Keep, blowing whisps of hair into her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. Aemond had asked her to meet him that morning for she knew not what, but the presence of the horse being saddled by a young squire by the steps of the Keep entrance concerned her somewhat.

"Y/N"

At the sound of her voice she looked up to see Aemond taking the steps three at a time to meet her, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist to kiss her as he reached the bottom.

"Good morning, my love" He pulled back to smile at her, the biting cold of the crisp morning seemingly having no affect on his mood. She supposed the blood of the dragon spared him.

Placing a hand against his chest she realised she was right as heat seemed to radiate from him whilst she stood there shivering. "Good morning, Aemond."

Taking hold of the hand that was on his chest in both of his, Aemond began rubbing his hands up and down hers "Your hands are cold. We should head off while the skies remain clear." With that he began pulling her towards the horse, just as she'd feared. She'd never ridden before and could foresee embarassment just at the thought of mounting the horse. "And where are we going, Aemond?"

Without stopping Aemond called back to her over his shoulder. "To visit Vhagar. It is important to me that you become acquainted." Y/N blanched, she'd expressed her interest in dragons early on to Aemond, they were almost like gods to her, but also her fear of them...and Vhagar was the largest and fiercest of them all. Aemond had taken to mentioning Vhagar with increasing regularity to her and she should have realised this was inevitable. His grip on her hand was tight and carried with it a sense of finality. Sighing and accepting her fate, hoping the dragon wouldn't cook her on sight, she asked the other question that was on her mind.

"Why do we have need of a horse to see your dragon? The dragon pit is within walking distance, is it not?"

"Vhagar is too large for the dragon pit. She resides on the outskirts of the city."

Y/N gulped. Aemond was always so nonchalant about his fearsome dragon, as if she were a friend to him rather than a fire breathing beast. She could not be so calm about the danger.

As Aemond released her hand to take the reigns of the horse from the squire, she looked sceptically at the saddle. Before she could make a disastrous attempt at mounting the horse, warm hands lifted her by the waist onto its back. Aemond followed swiftly, positioning himself behind her.

Y/N blushed as Aemond reach around her to take the reigns, encompassing her in his arms as the horse broke into a canter. His breath tickled the hair by her ear as he leant his head on her shoulder. "Relax." She realised she had been sitting stiff as a board, tilted forward, and leaned more fully into him, her back pressing against his chest. She felt a sense of security in Aemond's arms, even as she want to meet a dragon, his warmth seeping into her.

Aemond smiled as he felt Y/N shift closer to him, basking in her proximity and how far they had come for her to be so comfortable with him now. He'd been bemused at the look on her face as she'd approached the horse, tentatively placing her smaller hand on the saddle. He doubted she had any or at least very little experience with horse riding. Lifting her up onto the horse himself and wrapping his arms around her to take the reigns, he thought to himself that he should have invented an excuse to do so long before.

They fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by Y/N's gasp as what she'd thought had been a huge mountain moved and lifted its head, seemingly sensing its rider's approach. Not a mountain...Vhagar.

"It is alright, Y/N. She will not harm you. I am here."

Bringing the horse to a stop a safe distance away from the she-dragon, Aemond jumped down before turning to lift Y/N down. Vhagar was looking inquisitively at them and Y/N feared she was wondering whether Aemond had brought her a snack, though she was also awestruck by the sight of a real dragon before her. "Stay here a moment, I will calm her before I introduce you."

With that he approached the large dragon as if she were only a small dog, speaking softly to her and patting her snout when he was close enough.

"Lykirri Vhagar, dohaeras."

Y/N felt her lips quirk up in an involuntary smile and her cheeks heat at the smooth, low tone of Aemond's voice as he spoke in High Valyrian. She had not heard him speak it before but found it unspeakably attractive. Y/N could not understand what Aemond was saying, but whatever it was seemed to have a calming affect on the she-dragon as she rested her head back on the ground, not even looking at Y/N anymore. She could not school her features before Aemond looked back at her, returning to her side and looking down at her questioningly. "I do so love to see you blush, might I inquire as to the cause on this occasion?"

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her up at his directness, but as she began to turn from Aemond to hide her glowing cheeks, he only took hold of her elbow and turned her back towards him. "There is no need to be embarassed, Ñuha prūmia." As her blush deepened and she squirmed away from him realisation dawned on Aemond's face, and he graced her with a knowing smirk.

"Ah, I see."

Y/N felt the need to explain herself, but only managed to stumble over her own words. "It is only that I like to hear you speak in Valyrian, it has an elegance to it. I mean to say that I find the sound of your voice comforting. Wait, that sounds worse." Flustered she placed her head in her hands, hearing Aemond chuckle softly as he prised her hands from her face. "I am glad you like the sound of my voice, my darling, and I'll speak to you in High Valyrian more often if it should please you.

Brushing his hand over her blazing cheek he brought his face low to speak against her ear, his voice barely above a whisper.  "Iksā gevie, Issa jorrāelagon."

A shiver went down Y/N's spine, though she did not understand the meaning of the words. "What does it mean?"

Aemond pulled back, his smile widening at her physical reaction to his voice. "Do you truly wish to know?" Y/N narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the cunning glint in Aemond's eye, resolving to just ask Helaena later. She hoped it was not anything too crude. "I'm suddenly not so sure I do." Aemond patted her cheek affectionately before taking her hand in his. "Come then, I wish you to meet Vhagar. She is calm now. It is safe."

Interlocking their fingers, Aemond gently pulled Y/N towards Vhagar until she was close enough to touch the she-dragon. Pulling their joint hands up, he placed Y/N's palm on Vhagar's side. The Prince observed Y/N's face switch from one of trepidation to a look of of wonder as he smoothed their hands down the tough surface of Vhagar's scales. His dragon was not perturbed in the slightest, a relaxed hum reverberating through her as she huffed out soft tendrils of smoke.

He knew that Vhagar could feel the great importance the girl beside him held for Aemond, could feel his love for her, through their shared bond. And as such she would not harm her. But it warmed his heart to see the two great loves of his life interact. His bond with Vhagar had been the most important connection in his life before he met Y/N. She was his only friend, their bond with one another unequivocal, unbreakable. Introducing Y/N to Vhagar felt like baring the most essential parts of his soul to her. He hoped that Y/N might even agree to a ride with Vhagar in the future as she grew more comfortable with his dragon, and his heart raced with excitement at the prospect. There was no feeling like riding high in the skies, as if touching the heavens, nothing so pure as the trust between a dragon and it's rider. Aemond wanted to experience this with Y/N in time.

Y/N allowed the Queen to manage preparations for her wedding entirely, grateful there would only be a small wedding feast afterwards. The Queen had been nothing but warm and welcoming to her since she'd witnessed Y/N defending her son so vociferously. Y/N would be forever grateful to Helaena for teaching her the basics of dancing and only hoped she would not embarass herself too greatly, though she was excited at the prospect of dancing with Aemond. There was only one matter she had a strong opinion on, and that was her dress. One conversation with Helaena had convinced her that her dress should be blue. The Queen had seemed unsure at first, the common colour being white, but did not see the harm if Y/N was adamant.

Though Y/N was racked by nerves on the morning of her wedding, she was overjoyed by the way her dress had turned out. The soft midnight blue fabric and the golden detailing shifted elegantly as she moved, and Y/N thought it resembled the night sky. She only hoped Aemond would also like it. Butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach as she faced the long expanse of the aisle of the Sept, her arm interlocked with the Prince Aegon's.

Aemond's brother had been surprisingly pleasant to her, despite his reputation for being somewhat of a menace at court, and had offered to walk her down since she had no surviving male relatives of her own to do so. Searching Aemond out, she felt her nerves settle somewhat at the sight of him, handsome garbed in his ivory tunic and with a soft smile upon his face as he took her in. Taking his hand in hers, Y/N felt a wave of calm rush over her at how their hands fit together, as if made for one another. Her feeling of contentment, of pieces falling into place, only intensified as they spoke their vows and Aemond placed a cloak embroidered with the colours of House Tagaryen over her shoulders.

The wedding feast itself passed with little ceremony, including only a small gathering of nobles. Aegon had sunk into his cups early into the evening and managed to make a fool of himself drunkenly pulling Y/N about the room in the semblance of a dance, insistent that he should "welcome his new sister into the family properly" before she was rescued by her husband. Her heart fluttered at the thought as she placed her hands on his shoulders and he pulled her close to lead her in the steps of the dance. Aemond did not much like to dance, but that night he did for Y/N and found he did not mind so much when it was his wife he held in his arms rather than the simpering noble ladies that had been thrust upon him at feasts before. As the hour grew late and Y/N felt herself growing overwhelmed under the watchful gaze of the courtiers, they made to retire to their chambers. Aegon had just barely spoken the words "bedding ceremony" before Aemond fixed him with a glare so fierce he immediately quietened and went back to his cups.

Shutting the doors to their shared chambers, his heart warming at the thought, Aemond's smile fell as he turned to see his wife anxiously wringing her hands and shifting from one foot to the other. He gently gripped her shoulders. "Are you well, my love?"

"I confess I am a little afraid." Realisation dawned upon him. It was not uncommon for ladies to be concerned about their wedding night, but he did not wish his wife to be.

"You needn't be. We do not have to do anything. I can just hold you."

Aemond's felt a surge of guilt at Y/N's still uneasy expression, he hated to think she felt she had to do anything she was not yet comfortable with out of duty. It was more than enough for him that she was now his wife. He wished her to understand that he would never force her, or pressure her for anything more than she would allow.

Gently taking her hand he purposefully pulled her away from the bed to the chaise in the centre of the room. "Come, sit and talk with your husband a while."

He hoped if he continued on as they normally would, Y/N would feel less nervous. Keeping hold of her hand in both of his he turned to her, mouth quirked up in a conspiratorial smirk. "You have been thoroughly inducted into House Targaryen now with all its foibles. I hope Aegon's fool hardy behaviour did not alarm you too much. I must warn you that I will not allow myself to be parted from you even if it did."

Aemond felt his heart warm at her laugh, hoping she was beginning to feel more comfortable. They talked for a while before Y/N suddenly quietened, her expression sheepish. Aemond squeezed her hand gently, concerned that his wife might be afraid of him by the way she was looking at him. Her next words quickly dispelled that thought. But they instilled in him a different fear entirely, causing him to stiffen as she tentatively raised a hand to brush against his cheek, along the strap of his eyepatch.

"May I see you without your eyepatch, husband?"

Aemond caught her wrist, halting her movements, his voice laced with an admixture of shame and fear he had carried with him since he had lost his eye. He had gained a dragon, the largest and fiercest in the world, but he had been irreparably maimed for it. It was an act of violence that had changed the way people looked at him ever since and he could not bear it if Y/N should look at him with disgust or horror, or shame. "It is an ugly thing, my love. Not for the faint of heart."

"It is a part of you, Aemond. I will not judge you for it. I wish only to look upon the face of my husband, who I love dearly."

Aemond closed his eyes briefly, trying to control the erratic beating of his heart as he sought a way to distract his wife from her current train of thought, to disway her from her wish to see what lay beneath his eyepatch. He did not know if he could part with this layer of armour, the fear of rejection palpable in the air between them.

"I do not know..."

Y/N cut him off before he could give his excuses.

"If you will not show me, will you tell me how it happened? If it is not too painful. I know that it was your nephew Lucerys who was to blame." Aemond was surprised by the biting tone of his wife's voice as she spoke the name of his nephew. But he was grateful for the escape she had offered him and so he told her everything. Of how he had so oft been an outcast, jeered at by his brother and nephews when his dragon egg failed to hatch. He told her of how they'd mocked him with the promise of a dragon, only to present him with a pig. He told her of how he'd tried to offer his nephew Jacaerys comfort upon the death of Harwin Strong, of how he'd been rebuked and sought out Vhagar. How he'd claimed the largest dragon in the world, and how he'd lost an eye for it.

All the while Y/N stroked the side of his face, his hair, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing at each painful memory Aemond recalled. When he'd finished, she pulled him to her, his head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. "I hate that you have suffered so much at the hands of those who should love you. I wish I had been there for you." Aemond felt his heart seize, unused to such care, such devotion to his well being. "I do not wish to distress you, my wife. I am perfectly content now."

Y/N huffed. "I always want you to feel comfortable telling me about these parts of yourself Aemond. I would like a word with your nephews though" she grumbled out under her breath. Aemond let out a hearty laugh at that, clutching his wife tighter to him "Perhaps it is not Vhagar my enemies should fear, but my fearsome, protective wife. I have long since forgiven Lucerys, it is his lack of punishment that has always pained me, rather than the act itself."

Y/N pulled away from him to look into his face, cupping his cheek where his eyepatch rested. "Then you are a better man than most."

As gratitude for his wife's care washed over him, Aemond felt that he did not need to hide from Y/N anymore, that it might be a relief for her to see him as he truly was without the fear of her reacting negatively. She had not judged him at any moment for his scar or as he told her of the misfortunes of his childhood. Had she not been the one to mend the very eyepatch he now wore upon his face the day they had met, knowing what it meant to him? He trusted her fully, and would show her as much.

"I do not mind if you wish to see it, my love." Taking strength from the warmth of his beloved's hand he placed both their hands atop the strap of his eyepatch and slowly removed it from his face, leaving only the sapphire where his eye should have been. He closed his good eye, not wishing to see his wife's initial reaction, aware the sight was ghastly and harrowing for most. The soft touch of her fingers down the line of his scar grounded him, reassuring him that she was not disgusted with him. She did not despise him.

"It is beautiful, Aemond."

Aemond snapped his eye open, looking at Y/N as if she'd lost her mind. "Beautiful? I expected you to shriek or faint at the sight of it. You are always surprising me Y/N."

"I think every part of you beautiful, the sapphire compliments you well. Why did you think I had a blue dress made? It is not the common colour for a wedding gown."

"You had your dress made to match me?"

Aemond spoke slowly, each word latent with barely repressed emotion.

Y/N nodded eagerly. "Yes, Helaena told me of your sapphire. I know it is not common knowledge but I thought it might please you."

Moved by his wife's sweet gesture, Aemond pulled her towards him so she was halfway in his lap, one hand holding her head to his chest.

"I worried you would hate me for it, that you would come to regret tying yourself to a man with such a deformity when you are perfection itself."

Y/N pulled back from him then, all seriousness as she considered how best to show Aemond that his scar did not make him any less in her eyes, that she love all of him.

"I could never hate you, and it does not frighten me. If anything I only love you all the more for allowing me to see you this way, for trusting me. And as to me being perfect, I assure you it is only you who thinks so and I most certainly am not."

Leaning over Aemond, Y/N placed a trail of kisses along the length of his scar, pulling away to rest her hand on his cheek. "You will always be the most handsome man to me. My brave husband."

Y/N lowered herself from her position leant over him until she was straddling Aemond, his hands moving to her waist to keep her secure as he gazed up at her in awe. Bringing her lips to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself as close as she could to him. In the comfort of his arms and with the feel of his lips on her, Y/N realised she had never felt so safe, so seen with anyone as with Aemond, and her previous worries dissipated. She parted her lips, allowing Aemond to deepen the kiss, before reaching one hand down to take hold of Aemond's.

He did not oppose her as she moved it from her waist to place it on her collarbone, slowly moving it down her chest until it rested over her breast. She heard Aemond's breath hitch but steeled her courage as she continued to move her lips against his, all the while trailing his hand down her torso, her hip and finally her thigh. Aemond pulled away from her then to look into her eyes, seemingly searching for any doubt. "Are you sure, my heart?"

Y/N had never been so sure of anything in that moment as she was of her love for Aemond and his love for her. Bringing her hands up to his shoulders she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Yes."

Aemond smiled tenderly at her, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Avy jorrāelan." He knew that she would understand what that meant from the tone of his voice. Pressing her closer to him still, if that were possible, the prince crashed his lips against hers.

Valyrian translations:

Avy jorrāelan~ I love you

Iksā gevie~ You are beautiful

Issa jorrāelagon ~My love

Nuha prumia~ My heart

This might be the prettiest a man has ever looked. I was in shock your honour.

Also. How the fuck did he do this????!!!!

@zoetje2004 @jjkysnk @ieieibhibu8 @skymoonandstardust @truly-abysmal @idonotknowenglish @leonesimp @hyacinthesiss @nanawaffles @callsigncrushx @bitchyfestivalbouquet @void21 @sapphiresandferrari @pinkykats-place

@lportes-22

@superintenseart @youknownothingjohnwatson

@misspinkonmars @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - Will They, Won't They

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where they take a brave step forward. Part 8 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.4k+

Warnings - kissing, lovesick and anxious Yoongi, that's about it

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity

A/N - Yes, I am alive. No, I did not abandon this story. Just, life happened. Ofc, not proofed (lol when is it ever). Just wholesome moments, really. Hope you like it.

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The kiss had been perfect—sweet and electrifying. For a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped to give them those precious few moments. The moment their lips met, it was like the world shifted. For a second, Yoongi forgot how to breathe, think, or do anything but feel.

This is real.

He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. For so long, he’d convinced himself that this was one-sided, that the way his heart raced when she laughed, the way his chest ached when she was near him, was his burden to carry alone. He’d hidden it, buried it beneath layers of careful excuses and overthought jokes. Or so he thought. She does not see you like that, he’d told himself, over and over, like a mantra.

But here she was, her lips against his, soft and warm and so awfully real it made his head spin.

She kissed him! Scratch that. She kissed him first! She. Kissed. Him. First!

A swell of disbelief surged in his chest. Was he imagining this? Was this some cruel trick of his mind, conjured by weeks of wishing and hoping in secret? His heart pounded so loudly he was sure Y/N could feel it too. He almost pulled away, afraid that the slightest shift would implode this extremely intimate moment and consume them whole.

But then she leaned in closer, her hands resting firmly against his lower back, grounding him. The touch was deliberate, sure.

She wants this too.

The realisation swept over him like a tidal wave, an overwhelming mix of exhilaration and fear. Fear of what this meant and euphoria for all that could come. For all the sleepless nights he’d spent dreaming about this, it still felt too good to be true. He wanted to laugh at himself for doubting it, for letting his insecurities keep him in the shadows.

Her lips moved steadily against his, and it felt like a quiet answer to every unspoken question, a silent assurance against all trepidation. He wasn’t dreaming. She was here, with him, choosing him.

How did I get this lucky?

He opened his eyes slowly, breaking the kiss momentarily, half afraid she’d disappear if he let her go. But her keen gaze accompanied by a low complaining moan dared him to believe that there was a feeling akin to affection floating between them. Maybe even more than that.

He blinked, swallowing hard, before pulling Y/N flush against him and diving in for another kiss. When they parted next, Yoongi could not hold back his smile as he said, “I waited so long to do that.”

Taken aback by a soft “Me too, actually,” with a flustered smile, he stared back, unmovingly, for a bit. Surely, Y/N in his arms, gushing in the aftermath of a kiss seemed too good to be true. The way his mind was racing between what would be and what would not have been if he had not followed her out onto this deck almost choked him up.

However, he could feel all the ifs and buts wiping away from his cognition as Y/N leaned slightly to peck him right by his mouth. Not on, just next to his lips. Yoongi kept his head lowered, trying to bite back a full grin.

When he found the courage to look into her eyes again, she asked, “You want to take a walk?”

Of course, he did. He did not trust his voice yet, so he nodded in response and let out an unmindful sigh. As they turned to walk down to the beach, Yoongi tried to quiet his thudding heart and reached out to hold Y/N’s hand. It seemed like the only natural thing to do. Almost instinctively, their fingers wrapped around each other. Yoongi could live in this moment forever. Nothing more, nothing less. Just the absolution of being wanted by Y/N, the sober affirmation of her hand in his.

But the moment shattered as thunder rolled overhead, a warning drumbeat that quickly turned into a deafening roar. A flash of lightning cut through the night, momentarily blinding Yoongi and Y/N, and shrouding the beach in a dense darkness.  

As Yoongi blinked quickly to acclimate to the lack of light, he realised that the power had gone off. All electronic lights were out. 

At that moment, after what seemed to be aeons, both Yoongi and Y/N realised that they were on the deck of Hajoon’s beach house. All their friends were still inside. Hand in hand still, their phones’ flashlights alight in the other, they turned to walk back into the house. 

The house was alive with chaos. 

“Do we have candles?” someone yelled from the kitchen.  

“Who left the window open in the kitchen? I think I saw something jump in!”  

“I swear I just saw something move—was that the wind, or do we have a fox in here?!”  

Yoongi and Y/N exchanged glances, barely visible to the other as most lights were directed to the floor. Her gaze managed to calm something in him, despite the mayhem around them.  

“Who lit this candle?!” Another voice, muffled but distinctly annoyed, came from the hallway. “It smells like... vanilla? We hate vanilla!”  

Someone tripped over a forgotten board game on the floor, letting out a startled yelp. 

The chaos in the house only seemed to intensify. The wind howled, slamming the shutters of the windows that hadn’t been latched properly. Someone cursed loudly from the living room, followed by the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.

“Yoongi! Is that you?” Hajoon appeared in the dim light, his face barely visible as a flashlight beam bobbed from his hand. “Could you check the back patio? Something’s banging against the railing—it might be that cooler we left out.”

Yoongi hesitated. His fingers still tangled with Y/N’s, he felt her slight squeeze before she let go, her hand slipping away like an afterthought.

“I’ll help,” Y/N volunteered, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves she was trying to suppress.

Hajoon nodded and led her away, leaving Yoongi, standing awkwardly in the doorway. A mixture of relief and regret settled in his chest as he watched her go, her phone’s flashlight bobbing with each step.

“Yoongi! Get in here!” another voice, possibly Aera, hollered, and he turned toward the kitchen.

As the storm raged outside, the night dissolved into a blur of small tasks and distractions. Y/N was roped into helping Hajoon and the others secure the house, close windows, and retrieve candles from forgotten drawers. Yoongi found himself sidetracked by someone’s misplaced luggage, searching for dry towels when a window leaked rainwater onto the hallway floor.

Their paths did not cross again that night.

Each time Yoongi caught a glimpse of her—a fleeting shadow in the flicker of candlelight, the curve of her silhouette against a flashlight beam—his chest tightened. Every time she looked his way, her lips parted as if she had something to say, but the moment never presented itself.

By the time the house finally settled into an uneasy quiet, the storm having dulled into a steady rain, Yoongi retreated to one of the small guest rooms, unable to keep up with another round of candlelight reverse Uno. He leaned against the closed door, exhaling shakily as the memory of the kiss surfaced again. It felt both surreal and inescapable.

What now?

His phone’s screen glowed faintly in the dark, but every time he thought of texting her, the words crumbled before they could form.

The storm had left the air crisp and clean, the horizon glowing faintly as the first rays of sunlight spilt over the ocean. Yoongi wrapped his arms around himself, pulling the overshirt closer together, as he stepped onto the beach, the cool morning breeze making him shiver slightly. The house was still and quiet, its occupants likely exhausted from the night before.

He walked slowly along the shoreline, his feet sinking into the damp sand. The events of the previous night played on an endless loop in his mind—the kiss, the storm, the chaos that had swept them apart. And now, the question he had avoided asking himself lingered stubbornly in his chest.

What now?

“Hey.”

The voice was soft but unmistakable. He turned to see Y/N standing a few steps behind him, her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweatpants. Her hair was mussed, her eyes slightly puffy from lack of sleep, but she still managed to look disarmingly charming.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, stepping closer.

He shook his head. “You?”

“Not a chance.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them broken only by the gentle crash of the waves. Finally, Y/N gestured toward the shoreline. “Walk with me?”

He hesitated but nodded, falling into step beside her.

“I thought about texting you last night,” Yoongi began after a while. “But I didn’t know what to say.”

“I thought about it too,” Y/N admitted, kicking at a stray shell in the sand. “But... it felt like something we needed to talk about in person.”

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

The pause that followed felt heavier this time, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

“Yoongi,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t regret it. The kiss. I just... I don’t know what to do now.”

His steps slowed, and he turned to face her fully. “Neither do I,” he said honestly. “But I know how I feel about you. I’ve known for a while now.”

Her breath caught, her eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. She found none.

“It’s just…” Y/N started, then sighed, her words faltering under the weight of her thoughts. She hugged herself, as though bracing against the morning chill—or perhaps against the vulnerability she felt in that moment. “You’re... you. And I don’t know-” she sighed to a stop and looked up at Yoongi. She was scared she would find some amount of resentment. What she saw instead, was the opposite. Understanding. An empathetic look that tugged at her heart.

“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the rhythm of the waves. “I’ve seen what it does to people—people I care about. It’s messy and exhausting, and mostly it’s unfair.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. Of course, he knew. He knew the cost of it all. He was terrified that if they decided to pursue a relationship, a lot could go wrong, and things could end horribly. However, as he looked at Y/N and the early morning light on her slightly frowning face, the thought of not trying at all scared him even more. 

“But I also know what it feels like to meet someone who makes all of that seem small. And the way I feel about you?” His voice grew softer still. “That’s worth figuring it out. Worth trying.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She turned her gaze to the horizon, the sunlight dancing on the waves as if mocking the storm within her. “And what if it’s not?” she whispered, more to herself than to him. 

“What do you mean?” he urged, voice still so soft, it would be inaudible if they hadn’t moved to stand so close.

Y/N reached out for Yoongi’s hands and he drew in a long, shaky breath, sighing at the sense of reassurance the small but significant gesture provided him.  

“What if I can’t deal with it all?” she asked, looking away from his eyes, down to their joined hands between them.

Yoongi squeezed Y/N’s hands, in an attempt to comfort her. “I can say that you won’t have to deal with anything alone. I know I am asking for a chance from a selfish place-”

“That’s not-” she tried to interrupt but Yoongi continued, bringing her right hand up to his lips, to leave a small peck, “I am not saying anything we decide to do will be easy to pursue. It may change a lot of things.”

His startling honesty made her look back up at him. “But not trying would change us too, wouldn’t it?” he asked.

Her eyes flickered between his eyes, and for a moment, the fortress she attempted to build with logic and rationale, faltered. “Yoongi…” she began again, but the words stuck in her throat. Her gaze shifted down to the sand beneath their feet again. 

The man she was addressing stayed quiet, allowing her the space to gather her thoughts.

“I like you Yoongi, I like you a lot. Every time we say goodbye, I wonder when we will see each other again. I feel like a teenager with a crush,” Y/N let out a chuckle. Yoongi joined in, his heart soaring with identical ruminations.

“Every time I look at you, I want to hold your hand, keep your arm in mine and talk to you about anything  and everything all at once,” Y/N gave his hands a slight squeeze and added, “But I am scared that won’t be enough.”

“Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “That is more than enough, more than what I should be asking of you, honestly,” he added. “I know what you’re scared of. I hate that my life could make you feel that way. But I am just me. To you, that is all I want to be. Just me. Just Yoongi.”

Her breath hitched, his words cutting through the noise in her head.

“Yoongi?” He loved the way she said his name. He hummed in response. 

“Can I ask you to do one thing?” Y/N sounded hesitant.

“Of course, anything you want,” he said without missing a beat.

Y/N looked him in the eyes again, before inching closer and dropping her forehead against his. Yoongi sighed in comfort, as he nudged her hands to rest around him, before entangling her in a similar embrace like the night before.

Sniffling slightly, Y/N said in the softest voice yet, “Please be honest with me.” Seeing a slight frown on Yoongi’s face, she explained, “No matter what happens, good or bad, if things need changing or redoing. Just be upfront about it all, be completely honest. Always.”

“I can try to live up to that,” Yoongi murmured back.

“Okay then,” Y/N sighed out.

“Okay” Yoongi let out a small laugh. “Also Y/N?”

It was her turn to hum in response. “I like you too, by the way, in case it was not clear. And I am scared too but I like you too damned much. So much more than I can explain right now. But I hope I can show it to you every day, starting now.”

Yoongi swore he saw a blush spread across her face and not just the lights of dawn reflecting. Y/N could indeed feel her face burn as she groaned and chuckled at once, hiding her face in his chest. He welcomed the move and held her tighter in his arms if that was possible. 

As Yoongi stood by the vast sea, with Y/N in his arms, staring at the calm, blue sky, he felt a raging storm within him quiet down.

[astroels]

๋ ࣭ ⭑ ๋𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐄.𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ๋⭑ ࣭

a/n: first time doing dealer ellie??? pls leave opinions or I'II overthink this also I'm so sorry but I cannot write stone dom for ellie, she's my soft dom :((

Small imagery/ headcannons, on how you met Ellie, how you ignored her at first for being known as a playgirl, and how you ended up together

Dealer Ellie who's actually just a loser lesbian with too much love and money to spend

The party you got dragged to was definitely one of the best you'd attended. The drinks hit you in just the right way, warming your throat but chilling your stomach. The weed felt better to intake, knowing it was cheap since the host paid for most of it. The vibrations of the music filled your body, making the night feel dreamy. You took it light, enjoying every second that was being offered. As the night grew, so did the amount of people. You enjoyed watching who came in, the way they carried themselves and what it said about them. Losing yourself in the music, you turned and opened your eyes to be met with a pair staring right at you. Her stare pierced you in a way you hadn't felt before. You just had to know who she was.

You held eye contact, wondering if it'd be smart to join the auburn headed girl at the spot she stood in. While you overthought the option, you saw her head motion along with her eyes to go her way. Who could deny such a beauty?

As you walked up to her, a smirk grew on her face, seemingly proud of being able to reel you in. You carried your drink in your hand, mixing it around. Finally, at a good enough distance, you heard the first sounds of her rather sweet, raspy voice. "Hey, baby," She said with the pet name rolling off her tongue seductively. Her voice was enough to entice you, even if you typically despised such upfront people.

Not knowing what to address her as, you asked. "Got a name, babe?" returning the petname. You stared at her in interest: She felt like a different approach than others. The way her eyes scanned up from your thighs to your chest to your face was hard to ignore, making you flush some. "Ellie." She bit her lip unconsciously after, god, her lips looked so perfectly plump.

You hummed at her response; it was a pretty name that suited her face. You were admiring her features, from the exposed tattoo on her right arm to the risky amount of unbuttoned buttons on her shirt to the freckles that stained her face. Ellie's following words made you lose your train of thought. "'m not gonna waste your time, you're pretty, babe." She gave you a tilted grin, watching you in amusement. As you processed her words, only a smile was able to make its way on your face. She continued, "I'd like to take you outta here, somewhere nice, got some joints in m' car."

Her boldness was attractive. How could anyone say no to such a pretty face? The temptation to go with her outweighed the screaming that told you to stay. "Interested?" She kept her eyes on you, trying to read your body language anything that'd give a response. You opened your mouth to speak, ready to agree to her alluring personality, but you felt a yank on your arm.

Your friend was pulling you outside, raising her voice at you, warning you about the type of girl Ellie was. Apparently, she was one, a play girl and two, a druge dealer, but that one wasn't as bad, right? She was just too good to be true, huh? You never would' ve continued talking to her if you knew she was just talking to you for a quick fuck.

Despite being a little hesitant to attend parties in case you met Ellie again, you still went. Your friends gave you the whole talk of this and that and to be careful, yet some part of you wanted to run into Ellie again, just once more. She was a reoccurring thought throughout the week up till Friday, the next party that'd been going around. You'd gotten extra dolled up, just in case you told yourself. You wouldn't let yourself fall for her, You'd dress up this nice either way, right? The night was danced away, waiting for a glimpse of auburn hair. With no sign of Ellie, the flow of the music lead you to another girl, dancing with her hands roaming your body freely. You turned your head to face the girl, but it wasn't her that shocked you. It was a familiar face staring right past her shoulder.

The eyes that looked right at you began to sting your skin, it somehow felt like she was shaming you in the most filithiest way. Your body grew warm under her stare as you disconnected yourself from the girl you danced with, heading to the restroom.

Just behind you, a voice spoke before you entered the bathroom. "Where you going, pretty girl?" The name struck you, keeping you in place, not turning back. Feeling doubtful of your control to not interact with her, you quickly escaped into the restroom. She wouldn't wait, right? You scrolled through your timelines, looking through everyone's page, killing time. The line was drawn at eight minutes when you finally got the courage to come out.

The coast looked clear when you opened the door, not seeing anyone from your view; but as you made your way to the end of the hallway, someone tugged your arm back behind the wall. "What the fuck," You said angrily, pausing when you were met with Ellie. You scoffed at her. "Already said I'm not interested." You maintained eye contact, not letting your guard down. "Really?" She tilted her head. "Don't remember you saying that." She gave you a smile with her full lips tinted pink.

She had a point; you never said or thought it, but you couldn't do this fling typa thing. You shook your head at her. "I'm not gonna do this thing with you." She could sense your doubtfullness, so she pulled away a little, giving you the tiniest bit of space. "The rumors aren't true." You considered her words, were they the truth? Her eyes had looked so soft, pulling you into her words. You felt her warmth on your face as she leaned in. "I can treat you good, baby. Give me a chance," She spoke softly next to your ear. You bit your lip, trying to conceal the butterflies her words gave.

Ellie took a note and placed it in your palm, closing it. Before leaving, she examined every inch of your body, where it curved with your clothing to the curls that laid on your head, She smiled to herself, more genuine. "Just in case," She gestered to your hand and left you standing in the hallway. Her phone number was the only thing she left behind, along with a piece of your interest.

Over the weekend, you pondered texting her at all. lf you texted her, what would you even say? Despite the questioning eventually curiosity got the best of you, and a text with, "Hey :)" was all that you saw in the new started chat. It wasn't long before you got a reply. Throughout the week, you continuously texted each other. She wasn't as bad as she seemed. She was cocky but caring and less intimidating; she was just a tough acting dealer with dorky interests. You soon learned her boldness with flirting was a fluke, and she was actually such an easily flustered person. It was sweet to see how gentle she treated you compared to the coldness she showed others.

You ordered a tea, waiting for Ellie to show up to your planned brunch date. It'd been two weeks, and the shared calls and hangouts had successfully won your heart. You had a slight feeling Ellie had something planned, but weren't sure what. You took multiple glances at the window, looking for her recognizable hairdo.

Ellie made it to your table before your drink could, so when the waiter arrived, he jotted down both your orders and left. Ellie looked put together as if she'd spent time overthinking what to wear. It was supposed to be casual, so you'd just put on a favorite outfit of yours. As you examined Ellie, she examined you. "You look pretty." She said in a soft tone of admiration. The compliment brought blood to rush through your cheeks. "You look good too, Ellie." You gave her a soft smile.

When the food came, the time was spent on eating, having conversations on random topics, and slight flirting. You loved the way she made you feel heavenly. You were floating in the sky when she looked at you the way she did. When brunch was done, you asked the waiter for the bill. As you pulled out your card, Ellie gave you the most concerned look. "Uhhmm...what're you doing?" Her tone sounding confused. You gave her an awkward stare. "Uh, I'm paying?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. All that came out from Ellie was a "No." She shook her head. "You're not." She continued. "When I said I could treat you good, I meant it, babe."

She didn't stop staring at you weirdly till you put away your card. You guessed dealers did make good money. After brunch, Ellie took you to a nearby park, sitting you down on a bench. Once both of you were comfortable, she cleared her throat. "I, uhm, I don't usually do these typa things." Instead of looking at you, she was now fiddling with rings on her finger. You just stared at her, unconsciously tilting your head, wondering what she'd say. "I've really enjoyed our time together and wanted to make it more of an official thing." She looked up to face you. "I really like you." Your heart could burst at any moment.

"I really like you too, Ellie," you grabbed her hand to add further conformation to your statement. You swear her eyes lit up a shade. You both basked in the newfound warmth in each other until Ellie gasped. "Oh, here." She clumsily looked through her pockets to pull out a box. "I, uh" She opened the box. "Got us matching jewelry." The box held a necklace and a ring. They were complimented each other so beautifully. The necklace saying E. Williams with a heart on the bottom that marked the date. The ring said the same with your initial and last name with the date on the inside. Your eyes scanned them so carefully as if even looking at then would break it.

"They're beautiful Ellie." You stared at her and the jewelry in awe. "Here, let me help you." You turned and picked up your hair to help her put it on. Her fingers grazed your neck so carefully, it filled you with sparks. When you turned back around, Ellie was looking at it in such amazement. "Your turn." You grabbed the ring from the box carefully and placed it on Ellie's right middle finger. Her hands looked so pretty decorated in rings, especially the one that marked your beginning.

You grabbed Ellie's hand and fiddled with her ring as the sappy moment died down. "And what would you have done if I said no?" You pressed circles on the back of her hand as she rested her head on yours. "What would you have done with the jewelry?" Ellie chuckled and moved up to face you. "I wouldn't have given up on you that easy, loser." You playfully smacked Ellie's thigh. "Really?" Your tone sounding accusing. "Mhmmm," She hummed, smiling. You leaned into Ellie, kissing her lips. That day was a day for every new beginning.

With the rest of the day you spent together, you learned that she had had a dumb crush on you for awhile. Ellie had seen you walking around campus and at so many parties and decided to shoot her shot. She said she feared you wouldn't be into her or whether you preferred masc presenting girls, or if you even liked girls. You also learned that it was a rumor, she never slept with the girls; she never received from them, just gave, or only hung out since they "wanted to know if they were into girls." She'd stopped for awhile though, once she realized her crush on you. She was such a mess, but your mess.

[myfictionaldreams]

Hi, hello! I see requests are open and if you’re liking this idea, I hope you enjoy writing it. If not, it’s more than okay🙈🥺

OKAY OOKKAAAY!!

What if the winter soldier was triggered because of the high amount of stress + torture Bucky goes through while kidnapped by whoever.

Yes the Wakanda’s deprogrammed the soldat but no one really thought pass that. So when Bucky is kidnapped and put under that stress the WS is triggered, comes out to save himself/ Bucky from it

My Little Sun // Bucky/WS x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy ღ

Tags: sfw, lots of angst, fluff, description of injuries, reference to torture, trauma response, anxiety, crying, overprotective (to the absolute max), possessive, sam wilson is a great friend

Words: 5.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The days were endless but the nights were torturous when he wasn’t there. The silence, the coolness of the sheets, the empty coffee cup left on the side, it wasn’t how it was supposed to be and that only made it all the more difficult to be in your home.

“I’ll be back in a few days Doll, it’s not supposed to be a big deal anyway, Sam just needs an extra pair of super strong hands”. Bucky always attempted to use his humour to try and ease the anxieties he knew that would be your worst enemy whilst he was away.

Hundreds of missions you’d been there to wave him off, and welcomed him back without even a scratch but this only made it worse, your luck had to run out eventually, right?

Not that your and Bucky's story was the happiest, to begin with. The two of you had been together since Hydra days, having been the Winter Soldier’s nurse until Alexander Pierce noticed the Asset responded better to your orders. For years and years, he only trusted you, even through the mental “resets” or being frozen, the Winter Solider would only trust you. This had its positives and negatives that Pierce liked to use against you but, when Steve Rogers finally found out about his best friend was alive, everything changed. This wasn’t the end of your story though, for two years following this, the two of you were on the run, then lived in Wakanda, saying a farewell to Winter Soldier, then the blip. Both of you were gone for five years which you were in a way thankful for, not sure either could cope without the other and now, after Steve was gone, Bucky was on the road to recovery - with the additional missions with Sam Wilson.

This wasn’t as bad for you but having returned to nursing meant that you couldn’t always be there when he returned or be able to check your phone for updates. At least the role kept you busy, as the days ticked by and finally, as the day of his return was due, you were stuck on restocking, which meant you could stare at your phone, waiting for the jet to return.

The second the phone buzzed, you were off, heart hammering in your chest with the adrenaline, rushing to the headquarters.

Maybe it was your anxiety that overthought the atmosphere in the room, overthinking why it was so quiet, no rushing of agents to unload the jet. It had to also be your anxiety as to why no one seemed to look into your eye or even smile and wave at your arrival, everyone was probably tired.

As you waited in your usual spot, your foot tapping anxiously against the stone floor, it was taking a lot longer to unload the jet. Eventually, an agent approached, suggesting you sit in one of the conference rooms, at least there you could sit down with a glass of water. They were just being polite, there was definitely nothing wrong, even as the 30-minute wait time turned into an hour. You tried to keep your spirits up, knowing that if those negative whispers at the back of your mind started to shout, you’d lose all composure. It was only a few days that they’d been away, only to infiltrate some stolen goods from being trafficked across the borders.

But then, it was strangely close to a known Hydra camp that had been whispered about throughout the underground market with recent activity. A shiver passed through your body at even the mere thought of the name that had ruined so many people's likes, it was almost like a swear word you weren’t allowed to think about.

The years of torture, life-ruining time spent with those demons and through it all Bucky was your saving grace, he always had been, even with the Asset’s mindset. There had always been hope and that had come in the shape of Steve Rogers and most importantly Shuri, giving the Winter soldier the peace to be deprogrammed and allowing Bucky to try and proceed with the life he should have had. Even though it had been years, there was always a small inkling in your mind that the Winter Soldier was ready to be released beneath the surface, something just holding him back and with one wrong move he would be set free and chaos would be caused. 

So as the minutes ticked by, waiting and waiting, the anxiety soon felt like impending doom, your chest ready to split open in fear.

Then finally, after nearly two hours of waiting, it all came crashing down as Sam Wilson slowly opened the door by himself, shutting it soundly behind him. He was still in his Captain America uniform, blood and dirt coating it.

You had stood as soon as the door handle turned, facing Sam, tears welling in your eyes, all control disappearing. Attempting to look into the light in the ceiling to stop the tears from falling, something wasn’t sitting right in your gut, it hadn’t for days, almost like an intuition.

“Is he dead?” your voice wobbled as you tried to hold on from having a complete meltdown, knees locking to stop from shaking and falling.

Sam took a deep breath, making sure to look you in the eye. “He’s not dead, but he hasn’t returned with us. We were ambushed”.

“Who…”

“Hydra”.

That one word, the tainted ugly word was enough to have your body giving up on any strength that it had retained. Sam was quick to catch you before you slammed to the floor, easing the seat beneath you and pouring a glass of fresh water, making sure you took a sip before sitting in the seat next to you.

His hand rested on yours as it lay in your lap, as he began to explain the situation and you were so very grateful for your friend, not trusting yourself to speak at that current moment.

They’d been ambushed, the entire operation was a setup and even the agents, specifically, Bucky was able to hold the enemy back, eventually, they had surrounded him and before Sam could reach him, they had gone.

“I knew this would happen” you eventually declared, looking at Sam’s tired face. “I knew they would get to him, I’ve heard the rumours and the threats but no one seemed to take them seriously! Sam what if they-”

“I know what you’re going to say but that will not happen, Ok? Zemo’s tried it, and others have attempted it. Bucky is just Bucky, Shuri has made sure that the Winter Soldier was deprogrammed so let’s try not to lose control here, we need to concentrate on getting him back and safely.”

There was no reason to disagree with him but the thoughts continued to send you into a panic, spiralling through your head causing only more detriment to your mental health but you wouldn’t verbally say them, wouldn’t want to manifest them into a reality.

“He’s not dead, I would know if he were”, you knew it didn’t make sense, you didn’t have a tracker on his heart but through everything the two of you had shared, it was almost like a silent connection. He often joked that you were both two of the same coin and you truly believed that too.

“He’s not, I believe that too, they wouldn’t want to kill him so quickly”. Saying it like that had sour bile threatening to spill from your mouth so you forced yourself to drink another sip of water, silent tears dripping down your cheeks.

“So what do we do now? Are there people searching for him?”

“Of course, we have everyone out there searching the area, drones are scanning the ground to sense any underground holdings. We aren’t stopping for even a moment. The only reason I’ve returned is that I wanted to be the one to tell you and get some more supplies”.

You tried to half-ass a smile, looking back at Sam with sincerity. “Thank you, I do appreciate it coming from you Sam. What time do we go-”

“That’s the other reason I’m here because I know you’d somehow get involved in the search and I’m sorry but I can’t have you anywhere near the site.”

The overwhelming urge to shout took over your body so much that you had to take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders, ignoring the heat that had settled in your cheeks. “Listen, Sam, I can be useful please, I know what Hydra are like”.

“I understand that but, you’ve got to see it from my perspective as well. They’ve got Bucky, now what would happen if they also captured you too? What could they make Bucky do if you were in harm's way?  Even without the Winter Soldier, Bucky would kill anyone if it meant keeping you protected so there’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

This also made sense but it still didn’t stop your stomach from clenching as you refrained from arguing. As you tried to settle your emotions, you took in your friend, really looked at him and saw the overwhelming exhaustion and fear settled within his eyes.

“We’ll find him, Sam. Come on, I’ll clean you up, that’s a nasty scratch you’ve got there”, referring to the gash across his forehead. You wanted to be a good friend as much as he has been for you but also, it was a good distraction to fall into work habits.

Working soon became your only salvation, after looking after Sam and watching him return to the jet, you’d made your way back to work yourself. It was the only distraction that had worked and after nearly three days, it had quickly consumed your life, having not returned home once since discovering the news. If you weren’t working, you were sleeping in the changing rooms, showering there, eating vending machine food and returning for the shift.

If you didn’t do this, you’d have a complete and utter breakdown and it also stopped you from getting into a car or plane and going out to where he had been taken. You were sure that the agents were becoming fed up with your ungodly amount of phone calls but every update was needed, even though there had currently been absolutely nothing.

Eventually on the fourth day, your superior ordered you to go home for a full 12 hours but this only meant that you could go back to the office and watch the agents work. None of them asked you to leave which you were thankful for but it was an endless cycle after this, working as a nurse and then sitting with agents.

Four days soon turned into eight which was also when Sam returned again. He’d been out there every single day searching for Bucky, trying to find any clues and it was mostly his activity that you’d watch on the screen day after day.

Sam approached behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, “let's go for a walk”.

You didn’t want to argue, following behind him as he led the way to the grounds, it felt odd to be outside for this amount of time.

“They called you back to talk to me, didn’t they?” You knew that your behaviour wasn’t normal but it was the only coping mechanism that you could handle right now and you weren’t interfering with anyone either.

“I’ve had my boss and your boss on the phone with me so yes, you’re quite the hot topic. I know you’re worried, I get it, I am too. But you’re going to kill yourself waiting around or working too hard. You need to go home, sweetheart, get some rest, and have an actual meal. If anything happens you’ll be the first person that I call.”

“I can’t go home Sam, not without him, we were supposed to go back together!”, any hope of salvaging the tears was useless as they began to drip down your cheeks.

“I understand that, but you know Buck would kill me if I didn’t look after you so for all of our sakes, let me please drive you home and I’ll even pick you up in the morning but I need you to look after yourself for once.”

The exhaustion truly hit you then, hoping that maybe you were so tired that you’d get in and fall asleep immediately, not having to think about the empty apartment. Eventually, you agreed to Sam’s request, letting him drive you back to your building which you stared at for a few minutes upon arrival, not making any effort to actually leave the safe space within the car. 

“You can do this, if you need anything I’m just at the end of the phone”, he attempted to motivate you, which you were thankful for.

Turning to him in the car, you smiled softly, probably for the first time in eight days, “thanks Sam, I’m lucky to have you in my life”.

“If you keep talking like that you might even make me cry”, he tried to joke, pulling a genuine smile to your cheeks as you exited the car and finally made your way into the apartment. For a good two minutes, you silently stared at the front door, taking a step forward and as the key entered, a small sob escaped your mouth.

The apartment had never looked so dark before as the sun began setting outside, much too quiet as you stepped in. Bucky liked to always have noise even as he slept, mostly from a distraction from his thoughts so you took a leaf out of his book and rushed to turn on the TV.

The background did help slightly, rushing to shower and load the washer but the place felt haunting, even though this was all in your head. Attempting to keep busy, you cleaned the apartment, emptying the contents fridge that held a lot of gone-off food, the milk having solidified so quickly, you threw it into the trash.

Heading downstairs, you disposed of the trash bag into the dumpsters, taking your time to go back as the stars twinkled in the night sky above.

Just as you were outside your apartment door, you stopped. On the floor, was a singular drop of blood at the threshold of the door, that you’d left open as the area was usually secure.

Patting your body quickly for your phone, you cursed for leaving it on the side. Also, you checked that somehow you’d not scratched yourself or even had a nosebleed but there was nothing. The sensible decision would have been leaving the building and not coming back but something within you drew you into the apartment, stepping quietly and turning on the main light, illuminating the kitchen and living room area.

Bucky’s name whispered at the back of your thoughts but you couldn’t let your hopes be lifted. There were no further blood spots anywhere in your home, and as you entered the bedroom, the last room to check, there were no signs of anything wrong, nothing was out of your place, even your phone was still left laying on the side as you reentered the main living space.

This was when a force bulldozed into you, a large hand covering your mouth and a sharp knife held at your throat, pressing over your artery as the weight pushed you back until colliding with the wall. Momentarily you were winded but the sight before you had instant tears welling in your eyes, a sob bubbling in your throat, the hand over your mouth stopping you from crying out the name, Bucky.

There he was, standing over you and there was so much to take in. He was coated in dirt and blood, fresh and dried. Cuts, grazes, gashes, bruises, every form of injury littered the exposed parts of his body, the rest were covered in filthy joggers and a shirt that you suspected to once be grey but now were mixed between black and red, especially the large blood patch in his abdomen that looked fresh.

Bucky had super soldier serum, he would always heal quicker than others, in fact, the paper-thin scratches that you noticed should have healed as you looked at them to nothing more than a pink line but they stayed, unhealed.

However, through everything, it was his eyes that had your thoughts screaming on red alert. The eyes, the stare, that you hadn’t seen in years.

Not panicking was key so even with the knife at your throat, you dropped your shoulders, showing you had no fear, the Winter Soldier always hated when you looked frightened of him. The usual soft clear blue eyes of Bucky were now hard and slightly glazed over as he looked down at your shorter form.

Trying to maintain your courage and not falter, you began to lift your hands, palms up, showing that there are no weapons and you meant no harm but the Asset already knew this. Taking a risk, you wrapped your hands around his wrists, gently earring them away from their hold against you.

The Winter Soldier did not fight it at all.

“Soldier?” you asked tentatively as his hand was removed from your mouth.

The Asset collapsed and any attempt you had to catch him was in vain as he weighed a lot more than you could carry but thankfully, you managed to cup the back of his head before it collided with the floor.

“Buck- Soldier? Open your eyes, please!” desperately you cradled his face, stroking both thumbs against his bruised cheekbones but he was out cold, not even his eyes flickered.

Nurse mode kicked in as you instantly went to the dark area at his abdomen, lifting his shirt to see a stab wound that was still bleeding slowly. Rushing off your feet, you grabbed the first aid pack from the cupboard as well as your phone, leaving it at your side to quickly put pressure onto the wound. 

This woke him up as he grunted in pain, his breaths leaving him in quick bursts as he attempted to grip your wrists.

“Shh it’s ok, I’m going to look after you, I just need to stop the bleeding, I know it hurts, I’m sorry”.

“Солнышко”, he whispered a name that you had not heard in a long time. Years ago, the Soldier had whispered it to you so no one could hear. Eventually, it was the only name he would call you, and one day, it was translated for you. “Little sun”. As he began to regain his memories after escaping Hydra, he would talk about why this name, only repeating that you were his light in a world full of darkness, therefore, his little sun.

“It’s ok, Soldier, you’re going to feel better, I just need you to stay still, let go of my wrists”.

He did instantly, always listening to you.

The wound was still bleeding, and you silently cursed at yourself for not having more resources to care for him but every time you’d care for his wounds after a mission recently, it had been at the facility. “What did they do to you?” your words were only a whisper, a question more for yourself as the panic began to set in. 

Glancing up into his eyes, you found that he had passed out again, allowing you to call someone. Easing one hand off of the wound, quickly unlocking your phone and selecting the first name to pop up, it answers within two rings.

“It’s not even been two hours yet, that’s not enough time-” Sam tried to joke on the other end of the line but you had to cut him off.

“He’s here”.

Sam paused for a second like he didn’t quite understand what you’d said. 

“What? What do you mean he’s there-”

“I mean, what I said Sam! He’s here, passed out on the floor and he's injured sam, I need some help, please!”

“Ok, ok I’ll get the medics to go to your apartment, I’ll head there now as well.”

“Wait Sam, that’s not the only thing. He’s not- He’s not Bucky”.

“Shit.” Sam cursed loudly.

“I can’t have them taking him away again”, you needed the medics but the risk of the Winter Soldier waking up in a room full of strangers was only bound to end in danger.

“They won’t take him away sweetheart, I’ll contact Shuri, it’ll be ok, we’ll sort out a plan.”

And this is exactly what they did. Turning up in force, you rushed to grab the equipment, ignoring the guns that were being pointed at Bucky.

“No one touches him but me, do you all understand?” Everyone agreed, Sam thankfully then turned up and was able to have the guns pointed somewhere than where you were. Eventually, it was decided that they would sedate him which was probably the best option compared to being on guard with guns. Even on transfer to the facility where he would heal, you stayed by his side, cleaning his wounds and suturing a few gashes. After all the scans and investigations, it was determined that other than the stab wound, he had a broken wrist, cracked three ribs, several fingernails missing and head to toe, covered in bruises, cuts and grazes and IV lines were giving him pain medication and antibiotics, he looked a mess.

He had stayed sedated for another day, allowing his body to try and heal. Sam had attempted to send you home once more, but in the end, you had agreed to change into some cream joggers and a t-shirt and then made a little nest next to his bed in the most comfortable chair available.

You’d dozed in your chair for a couple of hours, waking up to find Sam standing behind you but luckily no one else was, the armed guards currently waiting outside as the sedation was wearing off. 

This wasn’t the only precaution and even after arguing about it for hours, they still placed, large cuffs across his body, particularly his metal arm, just in case he woke.

“He’s just gotten out of imprisonment and now he’s back in it”, you mumbled quietly, looking up and down his body.

“It’s not forever, it’s just a precaution”, Sam tried to ease your anxiety, something he seemed to be doing a lot of these days but you were thankful for your friend staying until Bucky woke up.

Leaning across the bed, you held the metal hand, the feeling giving some comfort.

“This feels weird waiting for the Winter Soldier to wake up and you’re just casually there holding his hand.”

Smiling sadly at Sam’s statement, you continued to watch Bucky, or should you be say the Winter Soldier? It was all so confusing, and there was still some hope that it would be Bucky waking up. 

Just as your eyes became heavy, Bucky’s hand suddenly flinched in yours and instantly you were sitting further up on your chair, leaving over him.

“Bucky?” your fingers drifted through his short brunette hair. At first, his eyes didn’t open but he furrowed his brows like he was willing himself to wake up. “It’s ok, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere”, you whispered, leaning in to kiss his forehead, mindful of his injuries. Standing back up, his eyes were now open, staring at you and now it was noticeable that the whites of his eyes were stained with red but at least he could open them properly.

“Buc- … Soldier? How do you feel?” at the near mention of Bucky’s name, the heart rate monitor began to increase in speed so you resorted back to trying to calm him. “You’re safe, it’s ok. Your wounds aren’t healing like they usually would so I’m just keeping a close eye on you.”

“They laced the knives with a special solution”. You’d not expected him to speak so soon, it was gruff from lack of use but his tone was softer than anything the Soldier had ever used.

“What?”

“They bathed the knives in some green solution before cutting me and it’s stopped me from healing.” The sick feeling returned to your stomach with full force, dreading to ever find out what had happened that they had tortured him enough for the Winter Soldier to come out.

“You’re healing well now though which is the main thing. It just might have to be at the same rate as us normal lot”.

Leaning forward once more, your lips softly kissed his temple, fingers still coming through his hair. The sound of his shackles shaking had you looking down at his hands, he’d tried to reach for you too but had been restricted. The Asset also looked down in confusion as to why he was being chained up but his eyes didn’t even glance at the straps, instead, he saw Sam at the end of his bed.

“Soldier, it’s fine, they’re friendly, they just want to help you.”

This wasn’t enough for him, the heart rate spiking to a dangerous level as his muscles struggled against the cuffs, his body straining as he tried to escape. “Calm down Soldier, listen to me Buck-Soldier, stop please, it’s safe!”

It was no use as the more he struggled, the more the guards were getting antsy and before long they were entering the room and pointing their guns at him. Sam began shouting now but that made no difference as the Asset had ripped his arms out of the shackles and the other cuffs were like pieces of string, easily ripped off.

“Point your guns somewhere else! Please get out, I don’t want him to hurt you”, it was complete and utter chaos, you were sure your heart was beating as fast as the one displayed on the monitor. “Stop pulling them out, they are there to help you”, you shouted at the Soldier as he ripped the IVs out of his arm and detached himself from the monitors. 

In the next second, his metal arm was gripping around your middle as he raced out of the bed, staggering slightly with his injuries but that didn’t deter him from pushing you into the corner, standing in front with only his hospital gown on. 

Now you were even more confused. The Winter Soldier was the world’s most dangerous assassin and on many occasions, he had killed to protect you but here he was, not making that step to kill anyone, simply just standing in front of you, being a barrier between the guns and your person.

“Everyone needs to stop this, now!” Sam shouted, holding his hands out in front of the guards.

Placing your hand in the middle of the Soldier’s back, you tried to speak to him, “you- you don’t need to protect me from these people, they are your friends Soldat”.

“I know who they are”, he revealed, looking at Sam now. “I’m not the Soldier, not to the fullest extent. I still have my mind but he’s there at the forefront, I want to kill you all but not because I’ve been ordered to but because I need to protect- WE, need to protect her but I can’t get through to him that you’re safe to be around.”

“Oh Bucky”, you muttered, laying your forehead against his back for a second, savouring his warmth before standing on your tip toes to look over his shoulder. “Please can you leave us for a moment, even if it's just outside the door, I just need you all to leave us”.

It took some stern words from Sam and arguments before they relented and exited, with Sam giving a final nod before thankfully closing the door, leaving the two of you in peace.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself anymore”, you encouraged Bucky as he held onto the stab wound, turning to face where you stood in the corner of the room. Your breaths were coming out in quick bursts, as your eyes flicked between his two confused ones.

Lifting his metal hand, he gently cupped your cheek which you thankfully grabbed, holding it there, having never been more grateful for a moment until now.

“You look sad, and you haven’t been eating properly”, he uttered, looking across your face.

Brushing away his hands, “Yes well, I’m going to be pissed if you don’t get into this bed right now!”

“Yes ma’am” he retorted with the sarcastic tone you’d grown so fond of. Bucky grunted as he eased himself into bed, brushing away the mess left behind by the destroyed cuffs. 

As you began to sit in your seat, he requested, “lie with me”.

“Nice try Barnes but there will be no lying with you, not on that tiny bed, now lie back and heal”. It sounded like you were chastising a child but it was for his own good, the stubborn man.

At the mention of the name Barnes, his eye twitched slightly before rolling his neck and settling back into the pillows. Even though you would lie with him, you still sat as close as you could, holding his flesh hand which was covered in bandages.

“What did they do to you?”

“You don’t want to know Doll”.

He never hid anything from you, maybe it was for the best that he didn’t give you the details whilst everything was so fresh for him.

“Explain to me what you meant that he was in your mind, so you’re Bucky… but you aren’t?”

“Sort of. I think it got to a point where something snapped in my subconscious and he came out but I mean, it worked. His ruthless aggression was just the push I needed to snap my wrist out of the chains and get me or us- out of there”.

You weren’t sure what to say so he continued his explanation. “I have enough control not to kill them lot out there, but he’s still in here, lingering, ready to kill if needs be”, he pointed at his head.

“Well I’m very glad you didn’t kill poor Sam, he just about shit himself”.

Bucky laughed but then winched, gripping his fractured ribs.

“So what do you want to do now? I think Shuri is coming here”.

“That’s probably for the best, it would be nice not to want to kill my friends. I do ask one thing of you though, don’t leave my side”.

Your heart broke at the sincere note to his tone, tears threatening to spill enough that you had to look away from him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset”, Bucky tried to sit up to comfort you but you were quick to push his shoulders back into the pillows, moving to now sit on the edge of his bed, cupping his cheek as he continued his explanation. “I just meant, that if you weren’t here, I can already feel how agitated he is thinking about it. What I’m getting at is for everyone’s safety, don’t leave the Winter Soldier. You’re going to have to just deal with us overbearing pair for a little bit, that’s also why we came straight home rather than a hospital”.

“I think I can deal with that for a little while longer”, finally you were able to grin and truly mean it, leaning in to kiss his lips softly.

It was only a second long but he was already trying to deepen it which caused the pain to flare in his face.

You laughed sitting away from him, “you need to heal first Romeo, both of you do”.

Bucky’s eyes softened, before revealing, “he’s missed you. I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you both too, my overprotective murderer”, you joke, kissing his bandaged hand. At this point, Bucky’s eyes had begun to become heavy, dropping slightly. “Get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.

“You better me, otherwise I’m killing everyone in that hallway, Солнышко”.

A/N: Солнышко - little sun. I must admit that I used google to find the translation so apologies if this isn't correct.

[blueb-eri]

okok so i’ve had this scenario of Ais in my brain for a while and i felt the need to share it hhhhh

it’s a scenario of a bad end for Ais

so in this scenario MC has decided to submit themself to the Seaspring and become part of the hive mind so they convince Ais to let them drink from the seaspring. (this is my first time writing a scenario thing so sorry if it’s bad/messy)

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sparrow” Ais sighed as he took the cigarette butt out of his mouth, tossing it onto the ground and stomping on it with his spike covered boot.

MC nodded, they knew what they were getting themselves and they understood what they’d be giving up in return for freedom from the fear, anxiety and guilt that plagued their whole life. “I know Ais but this is the path I’ve chosen” they replied as they walked to the edge of the platform before the rippling red waves of the Seaspring and knelt down, looking down at their reflection thinking about their life before this.

“Is this worth it? Is this worth losing my entire identity and becoming a shell of the person I am?” They thought but quickly shook the doubts away before they overthought too much backed out “yes. I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t waste this opportunity”

They didn’t notice that Ais had seated himself on the edge of the platform and was staring out into the red waves before them, seemingly lost in thought as well. Ais glanced at them then slid into the red water and positioned himself in front of them “c’mon Sparrow, let’s get this over with”.

Ais’ appearance in front of MC snapped them out of their thoughts and they looked at him with wide eyes “what are you doing..?” They asked confused “Helping.” He replied matter-of-factly as he slid his arms around their waist and slowly pulled them into the blood red water.

When they were fully submerged in the water Ais grabbed onto the underside of their thighs and hoisted them up onto his waist, in response MC wrapped their legs around him and hooked their arms around his neck and stared into his piercing crimson eyes. No words were exchanged between the two as they held each others gaze.

Ais let go of one of their thighs and scooped up a handful of the blood-red water and poured it into his mouth but didn’t swallow and instead grabbed the underside of their thigh again and slowly leaned in, their mouths were merely centimetres apart. It was once again MC’s choice to accept this and become bound to the Seaspring for eternity, this time they didn’t think twice and closed the gap between them. Their kiss was full of desperation.

Ais opened his mouth slightly and let the red water flow into their mouth, sealing the deal and binding them to the spring. MC let the water into their mouth and swallowed then slowly pulled away to catch their breath, they leaned forward and rested their head on Ais’ chest as they felt a wave of exhaustion hit them.

“Thank you, Ais… for everything…” they mumbled as sleep overtook them and they submitted to the Seaspring and it’s eldritch bring that inhabited the spring.

Ais didn’t respond and merely stared out in front of him, wondering if he could’ve stopped this from happening or if he could’ve convinced them not to go through with it but it was too late. All was said and done, now they will become part of the hive mind and their eyes will become the crimson colour just like his.

(sorry if this is bad but you get the vision right????)

[kasienda]

Rena Rouge secret keeper??? 👀👉🏽👈🏽

Okay! Okay! I've been working on this one for since forever. It's Season four. Adrien resigns after his not being in on the plan backfires on team miraculous. Marinette is distraught but still insistent she can't know Chat's identity because of Chat Blanc. Alya proposes that SHE be the one to know his identity to act as go between. Then it's her job to keep the two of them in communication while also not tipping them off to one another. She's going insane and Nino is her anchor. She gets more close to all of them while this is happening. She might even fall in love more than she already is. It's supposed to focus on ALYA'S relationships with each of them, but all the corners of this OT4 square get some attention in this one because I was having too much fun.

I actually finished chapter one earlier this month. I didn't post it because I have so many wips right now, and don't think this one will take center stage any time soon and it's kinda looking like it'll be a big fic. But... could probably be talked into it pretty easily if literally any ONE person wants to read it and is willing to be super patient!

...

Preview:

Alya waited by her phone for Marinette to call, chewing the inside of her cheek. She shouldn’t have chewed Chat Noir out like that. She knew he could be sensitive and it definitely was not his fault that Marientte was ridiculous about secret identities.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. Alya glanced down. 

Marinette:

I’m going to be akumatized. 

The words blurred as Alya read them. Damn that stupid cat! What did he say?! 

Alya:

Where are you? 

Marinette:

In my room. 

Alya transformed immediately and took off towards Marinette’s balcony. She dropped through the skylight barely slowing down. Marinette was curled in the fetal position at the foot of her bed, sobbing brokenly.

Marinette had never looked so small. 

Gone was the clever and confident superhero everyone looked up to and relied upon. No one else ever got to see the Ladybug that overthought and doubted herself, the girl who was so nervous she couldn’t complete an intelligible sentence in front of her crush, the girl who took responsibility for everyone in their class and their city, the girl who felt so much and so deeply when she saw others were hurting.

Alya dropped to the bed, not bothering to detransform. Her arms wrapped around Marinette. Alya wished she could do something, anything at all to ease Marientte’s wracking sobs.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Tale of the Nine-Tailed Meta: Helicopter Pad Scene in 1x04??

I’m rewatching all of Tale of the Nine Tailed season 1 again (because I’m a masochist apparently) and I just had a thought watching the scene in episode 4. It’s the one where Rang tries to convince Yeon to kill him on the helicopter pad after reminding him of that time he stabbed him (which is a whole nother post, mother of pearl).

What happens: Yeon acts like he’s going to, and takes the knife from Rang and charges at him, turning the knife in the last second so it won’t hurt him.

The first time I saw this, I just thought how bittersweet it was because Yeon clearly can’t bring himself to kill his brother no matter what he does. But now, I have Overthought It.

When Rang gives him the knife, Yeon could have just said nah never mind brat and dropped the blade, instead of pretending to charge for an up close stab. He could have ignored him, pocketed the knife and walked away. He could have avoided it other ways than getting close to Rang, who has been actively attacking him 24/7…and Yeon is not getting in Rang’s personal space to intimidate or threaten him, because Rang is ready to die anyway.

So now I am obsessed by the thought—when Yeon pretended to lunge at Rang, it is almost an embrace. Did he choose that method so that he could hug his brother, who wants to die so badly? Who wouldn’t accept or believe it if he did try to hug him now? When Rang asks Yeon to kill him, he’s completely serious. Yeon looks heartbroken, but it’s not piercing—more in a way that’s an old ache, familiar guilt.

And this part hurts to think about, but was that the first time he’d hugged Rang since the last time he pretended to tried to kill him?

And right after is his response to Rang desperately trying to provoke him by threatening Ji-Ah: “Even if you act evil, I know this isn’t who you really are.” I love this line: he’s simultaneously acknowledging the wrongness of Rang’s actions while calling him out that he knows this is a performance, an “act” of evil, and letting his brother know that he hasn’t given up on him, even though Rang hates himself and would vehemently deny this all happened. It’s brilliant micro-expression work from them both.

And now I’m sad so I’m going to eat tater tots and sulk about fictional foxes.

[cordria]

I work in a school-adjacent field right now, so my job is tied to the school year. I've worked there for about a year, and my contract is up. Had to schedule a meeting with the boss, where I'd either be offered another year-long contract or be released.

I really really wanted another contract. I like this job, it has health insurance for my kids, I get paid really well, and it offers superb vacation time. Me - being me - overthought the hell out of it. I spent weeks curating data as to why I should be retained for another year. I had spreadsheets. I had presentations. I had data at my fingertips for any eventuality.

New contract was the ultimate goal. I was going to ask for a 1-2% raise, depending on how the meeting went, but I was perfectly fine with nothing.

Head into the meeting, and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to realize something is very amiss...

He's got zero desire to look at my data. No asking questions about what I'd been doing. Nothing. He's just... talking about his company. His plans for its future. How I fit into those plans.

And I realize - he's got zero plans on releasing me. He's talking to me about the reasons why I shouldn't leave. Why I shouldn't allow myself to be poached.

Mentally, I sorta check out of the meeting because I hadn't prepared for this. I can't ask for a 2% raise. I'll look like I don't know my worth, and that can be a death-knell for a woman. You'll never again get a great contract if male bosses think you don't know what you're worth and can't stand up for it. I need to be at 3-5% above COLA. And I just saw the COLA numbers, but I can't for the life of me remember them! COLA coulda been anywhere between 1% and like maybe 7%. I can't just guess.

Boss just keeps talking while I'm scrambling. Barely paying attention to him and answering on autopilot. And then he takes a tangent that drags my mind off of numbers. Asks me about my supervisor.

My supervisor is... nice. You know those teachers in school where the system worked well for them, and they like the system, and they can't imagine the system doesn't work for someone else? Those teachers where, if the system isn't serving you, the only logical reason for that is lack of effort on your part? Yeah, she's one of those.

My job is literally to challenge those systems. She's nice, but we butt heads a lot because she doesn't see why I'm so set on changing something that works so well, no matter how many ways I've tried to explain it to her or what research I've handed her.

I'm trying to pussy-foot my way around answering the questions from my boss. I can't throw her under a bus - especially since she's one of the nicest, most generous people at this office - but I also am trying to be honest. She's throwing a monkey wrench in what I'm doing. She's making my work harder, and it's already hard since schools and teachers hate listening to 'your old way of doing things isn't working so well'. So I've totally lost track of trying to figure out COLA. Talking through this puzzle is taking up my brain.

I musta done fine, because eventually he pulls out my contract. Tells me I'm embodying the future of what he wants my department to be. Says he'd like to put me on 'management track'. Preferably to take over my supervisor's position at this point next year. More responsibility. Trying out 'mentoring' some of the other staff I work with.

I'm... not sure how I feel about that. I've never been in the 'boss' track, other than some random shift-lead positions at fast food joints. I'm not exactly management material. I'm one of those people who do best when given a gentle nudge in the direction you'd like me to travel, give me free rein to implement data and research, and stand back to watch the positive chaos unfold. That actually seems like the thing boss likes about me best.

He offered me a good raise. I was very off-foot and didn't argue with it, but probably should have. Looked it up - was 5% above local COLA, so I'm happy. Reasonable contract, but I probably could've snagged another 2-3% for this management track nonsense had my brain been wired right. So I signed it, handed it back.

Now I got 'leadership' training four days over the next two weeks as I learn more about this management track he's wanting me on. I figure it if doesn't work out of me, I can always just say so. Then he can choose to keep me in a regular position or release me at the end of this contract. If nothing else, I'm staring at a binder full of data that I wasted a lot of time on that shows why someone else might want to hire me.

Might as well give this mess a try - right?

[lithesunflower]

Fragile Strength Part 2

Spoilers for Avatar: The Way of Water

Part 1

It only took about half an hour for Spider to get himself and the girl back to the rest of the clan. She was light and he had’t been far into the forest when he found her. 

He could feel the looks before he saw them. Na’vi turning to look at the sight before them of a human boy carrying a very human looking girl. It made him uncomfortable but he set his jaw and kept going. 

Surprisingly it wasn’t Neytiri who spoke first it was Ronal. 

“What is the meaning of this?” she snapped looking from the boy she had reluctantly allowed into their midst, to the fragile creature in his arms. 

“She’s hurt” Spider insisted, “I found her in the forest and I brought her here to be tended to” 

Ronal looked livid 

“This could be a trap! How do you know that someone didn’t leave her as bait? How do yo know you haven’t just led a whole army to our door step with her blood?” she asked reaching out to grab a scrap of the girl’s clothing that was colored red. As she moved closer Spider instinctively hissed, his teeth barring in defiance as his body turned away to shield his companion. 

“She’s not a threat! How would you react if a Tulkun baby were to show up bleeding in these waters?” he snapped. “She isn’t dangerous...she’s like me!” And in that moment, as he said it, Spider realized that to them, to all of them, that was dangerous in itself. He felt a part of him aching for the acceptance he had known with Quaritch, even for the place he had held in the Sully family before the sky people returned. But something in him knew that those moments were in the past, perhaps much farther than he could have ever imagined. 

 “Please” he sighed, pulling himself back to the present. “I..please just consult with Eywa...ask...maybe she is supposed to be here” he pleaded. 

Ronal looked frustrated and angry she was about to raise her voice to the boy again when Jake stepped in. 

“Please...I will take responsibility...she will not cause any harm...if she turns on anyone I will handle it myself” Jake said. His words sent a shudder through Spider because he knew that Jake meant he would kill the creature in Spider’s arms. The thought of the pale figure being void of life made the human boy want to cry but he held back, shifting his eyes to look at Ronal for an answer. 

Ronal seemed to consider Jake’s words and just hissed in frustration before  turning away. 

Jake turned looking at Spider with concern and worry. “Don’t make me regret this kid...” he said. Spider just shook his head and carried the girl towards one of the huts where he knew there were medical supplies. 

He carefully laid her down touching her forehead to gage if she was warm with fever. He was relieved that she seemed to be fighting whatever pain she was in quite well. He took out a few cloths and instruments he had never seen before lining them all up on the floor and wondering what he was supposed to do first. He was genuinely lost. He knew the wound needed to be cleaned and probably stitched up but he didn’t know what to do, he had never dressed a wound only kept pressure until medical arrived. 

Ronal walked into the hut and waved at him “Go...” she said and Spider looked like he was ready to fight her until he saw Kiri walk in behind Ronal. “I cannot dress the wound and clean her up if you are here...I need quiet and the girl needs privacy” Ronal insisted. Spider looked at Kiri trying to determine if it was safe to leave the creature he had found in Ronal’s care. 

Kiri gave him a nod “She’ll be safe...I’ll call you when we’re done” she said gently. Spider glanced at the girl on the ground one more time and looked up again at Kiri before slowly walking away. 

It felt like hours, days, waiting, pacing, wondering if he had even done the right thing. What if it had all been a trap to get the creature alone so they could finish her? What if they just came out and insisted that she had been too weak? He had nearly overthought himself back into the hut when Ronal walked out with Kiri in tow. The younger Na’vi gave Spider a kind smile. 

“She’s resting, we’ll know in the morning if she’s strong enough or not...for now it’s up to her” Ronali said glancing back at the pale figure laying in a small cocoon of blankets. 

“Thank you...” Spider whispered, he was truly thankful and the relief on his face was clear. 

Once the others were gone Spider quietly walked back towards the hut and sat down inside. His new found companion was wrapped in a blanket, her wounds cleaned and her hair gently falling in a halo around her head. Spider found himself just watching her, she was breathtaking and he was almost certain at any moment she would just evaporate into a figment of his imagination, 

A few minutes went by and she stirred, her emerald eyes flickering around the unfamiliar room before settling on him. She awarded him a gentle smile as her hand moved slowly to grasp his. She knew he had saved her she just didn’t seem to be able to articulate her thanks. 

“Your name?” she whispered. It was a question, quiet and gentle but sweet and melodic. 

“Most everyone calls me Spider but...my real name is Miles” he said, his heart beating rapidly as he tried to think of what to ask her. He had so many questions. 

“Wh-what is your name?” he finally asked as he watched her eyes flicker around the room once more. 

“Anya” she breathed softly and it was clear that even that small interaction was leaving her exhausted. Spider felt like his breath caught in his throat hearing her name

“Anya” he repeated the word sounding beautiful to his ears. “You’re safe now...rest” he said. He felt her fingers tighten around his hand before she seemed to slip into sleep again. He heard a call for the evening meal but his attention never wavered. He watched her fall asleep knowing he wasn’t leaving her side anytime soon. 

Part 3

[sunnyshiftyy]

Sometimes forever doesn’t mean forever - TE one shot

Book: The Elementalists, AU TW: I think none? Rating: PG Pairing: Beckett Harrington x f!MC Words: 649 (short but sad) Summary: Basically hurting and angst? A/N: Long ago, there was a prompt that read ‘Sometimes forever doesn’t mean forever’. On a whim, I whipped this up, and lost it deep in the pits of my notes app. When I found it again, and read it, I actually liked it enough that I wanted to share it with the world. This is definitely an AU kinda thing. None of this in my actual headcanon storyline!!! It's a little different to what I normally write, but that's what will make me grow as a writer, right?

Now, I’m submitting this for the @choices-february2023 challenge for day 26 with the prompt ‘Fairy Tales’ (because forever is a fairy tale? My logic..)

Tags: @theclassycandy , @choices-february2023 , @choicesficwriterscreations

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics or TE content!

And on that note, I hope you enjoy!

Beckett’s POV

I don't know how this happened. I guess I should've done better. I should have been better. But I wasn't.

You know what she would say to that? 'You don't need to be better. You're you, and that's what I love about you.'

But she isn't here now, is she? So I can self destruct as much as I want.

Who am I kidding. The sunshine factor or what's-it-called has it's aftereffects. I won't self destruct. At least not on purpose. That's not what she would want for me.

I hate crying. Not because 'it shows weakness' or whatever nonsense ignorant fathers stomp into their sons heads. Because it's messy. Everyone gets all worried about you, but it's all a show. They don't care about how you feel. They care about the 'why'. Or about their own feelings. No one feels good when another person cries. They want that queasy feeling gone.

Luckily, I'm alone. No one to fake care about me now. Also no one to actually care about me now. The only one that did just left.

Did it come as a surprise? Yes and no. Initially, I was too stunned to say anything. But she made some sense after a few minutes. As much as she can make sense, of course. It's funny how she always managed to put two opposite ends together. Making complete sense and at the same time not. That's something only she could do.

When she came in, her face didn't raise any alarms in my book. I should have known. I should have been paying attention.

And then... I still can't make sense of what happened then. It's only been ten minutes, but it's already blurry. Maybe because of the tears I was holding back the entire time.

It's like something triggered a flight or fight response. That something obviously being me. She usually freezes. But this isn't the usual.

The whole time she was talking, I could not get myself to respond. Because I couldn't process exactly what she was saying. I have never heard her say such irrational things before. Oh Gods, she must've hurt immensely...

The things I did understand were 1) she had overthought everything about us and 2) she wanted us to stop being us.

I didn't think she meant it. That might sound very bad, but it's the truth. Just 24 hours ago she told me she couldn't live without me.

It hurt when she said, 'But I'll have to' a few minutes ago. She thought she was doing it for the good of us both. Then I finally started talking. I'll spare you the details, it was all very dramatic. It was one of those rare moments where I stopped thinking. I let the words do their thing. Very dangerous, but it didn't end too bad this time. To conclude, we both confessed we might die without each other.

I told you it was dramatic. My mind is going to love bringing this moment up again and again, letting me relive the painful awkwardness of it all.

Still, she decided to take the odds of death. I think. The uncertainty makes this all more frustrating.

All I can think about is that one night. That one night we talked about things we never told anyone. She cried, I almost cried, and we laughed and made all of it feel less life threatening. She didn't judge. She never judges. She understands.

That night she told me, 'I want to be with you forever.' I know she believed it then. I believed it then.

Sometimes forever doesn't mean forever.

Forever means as long as possible. Seems like we've reached our expiration date.

Forever is a promise, maybe even a wish. Forever doesn't even exist.

Forever is the only thing you know for certain isn't going to be happening.

And still, we all keep hoping on forever.

Hope you enjoyed!

A/N: If you want to know more about my OC’s in my TE universe, click here. If you want to read more, here’s my masterlist with all the fics on it! (dated <3) Another thing: you can find sneak peeks of future fics and other posts on my masterlist (indicated with coming soon!) Last thing: my asks are still open! If you want headcanons or anything, don’t be shy, ask some more :)

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Aside from the fact that I want to grab the Muse by the lapels and yell, "WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME???"-

I'm not sure which of the many, many things I've done to Dolce made the biggest difference, but... at least she sounds pretty good when I'm not fucking it up too badly. Maybe the lack of any sound dampening in the room is making her sound more powerful and responsive than I remember her being, or maybe I hit on the right strings to balance her out, or maybe ditching the fine tuners was worth it. Who knows.

It kills me that it's only right at the end of practice that I juuuust start to hear a little of the old me come back... but by then my fourth finger and my chin are in pain and I have to stop.

My right-hand situation is an absolute hot mess. I don't even know what to do with my pinky anymore; I think I've overthought this so hard I can't even remember what I was doing previously. So that's just... awesome. It's not like I had a great hold previously but AT LEAST I COULD BOW A SMOOTH LEGATO RELIABLY BACK THEN.

So that's Day 3 LOL.

[bunnyandcomet]

Thread 0: Blank Slate - Chapter 7

Yuzuru: Well then, I'll be taking a look at it.

Monday morning, at my usual salon......'s building, four floors above.

Behind a door located across from the entrance of the store "Aporia", in one corner of a bright, spacious office, he began to check over the set of documents I had presented to him as if he was well-accustomed to it.

Yuzuru: Let's see, this, and this......Okay. You've not missed any sections or omitted any seals.

Yuzuru Kise-san.

A brilliant staff member who has broad responsibilities involving both the management of the café and overall administration of Aporia.

According to Roka-san and Yuki-san, he's "the personification of safety and security".

Ito: (At first I had no idea what they could mean by that, but I understood the instant I met him.) (He's doesn't just "seem" kind; he has an atmosphere of kindness like he's wearing it as a coat. I've never even seen someone like him before.)

Yuzuru: Is it all right if I ask you to sign the employment contract as soon as our superior comes to work so I can pass it on to him by the end of the day?

Ito: Yes, anytime is fine.

Yuzuru: Then, just to make it official. I look forward to working with you from today onwards, Yashiro-san.

Ito: Likewise, I'll be in your care. ......Actually, I've already been helped a great deal by you. Thank you very much for your help with my resignation.

Yuzuru: Ahh, not at all. I really only helped out a little with that. Though I'm glad it was able to resolved successfully.

"You should work for us!"

It hadn't yet been a month since the night of that abrupt proposal.

According to Roka-san, "Aporia's outstanding employees freely showcase their respective strengths and offer support on all fronts", and as the result of that support, my resignation and re-employment was briskly concluded with no time to think it a hassle.

Not only that, but they had managed to fully absolve me of any responsibility for the adultery scandal that had become so complicated.

Ito: (It was so easy I was left wondering what kind of magic they had used. It was truly amazing.) (......I actually quit my job, huh.)

I had thought countless times that I wanted to quit, but not once had I thought that I would actually quit.

It was something that I thought I couldn't do, that I should not do.

Let alone with the help of other people. I'd never even tried to consider that.

And now, after all that, I still felt a little strange.

Ito: (? Ah. That birdcage isn't just a decoration, it's the real thing......)

Rare: Rare-kuuun? Mealtiiiime?

Ito: ! (Wh-whoa, that surprised me. That's right, some types of birds can talk. It's so cute......and really big!?) (It's a pretty pink...parro......t......? Are parrots usually this plump......?)

Yuzuru: You already ate breakfast, you know. There's no more.

Rare: Wahhh, ahhh......

Yuzuru: Shh.

Rare: Shh......

Yuzuru: That's it. Good boy. Sorry about him, he's quite the glutton.

Ito: No, I thought he was cute. Um......he's very fluffy and round.

Yuzuru: We call him Rare-kun. He's been at Aporia longer than I have. Rare-kun, how about you say hello?

Rare: Hello! Greetings, greetings!

Ito: !? Hello, my name is Yashiro...... Can he understand words as well as speak?

Yuzuru: It seems so. He was originally a lost bird though, so we're a little unsure of his breed and such. But he'll talk a lot to people he's fond of, so please get along well with him.

Ito: That's......if it's fine with Rare...san, then by all means.

Yuzuru: Ahaha. That's the first time I've heard someone refer to him with "san".

Ito: Eh. (Crap. Kise-san said he'd been here longer than him, so I thought it was rude to use "kun", but it backfired......! I overthought it.) (What do I do, it might seem cheeky instead if I just decide to call him by a nickname or something......) ......My apologies. I'll call him Rare-kun, then.

Yuzuru: It's all right. He seems to understand that he's being referred to as long as he hears "Rare". Even if you don't say his name, he'll do things like cut into the conversation anyway.

Ito: (So cute......)

Yuzuru: So feel free to refer to him however you wish. And not only with him.....with me, too, please refer to me as you like.

Ito: Eh.

Yuzuru: I'd be happy if you would treat me more casually as a friend that you work with. Ah, as much as you're comfortable with, of course. It's fine if it's little by little.

Ito: ......Thank you.

Yuzuru: Okay.

Ito: (He's seriously such a relief to talk to.)

I could tell that he's a person who speaks not for his own sake, but genuinely for the sake of person he's talking to.

A person who can create a comfortable atmosphere without the slightest hint of hostility or malice.

Ito: (Seems like I'll be able get along here quite peacefully. I'm really glad I was able to change my job to such a good pla——Ah.)

Yuzuru: ......Ah.

Ai: ......

Ito: (Huh?)

The person who had just entered the room slowly turned to look in our direction. His gaze seemed to pierce right through me as our eyes met.

The intensity of it had made my body stiffen at once, and I barely managed to lower my head.....

As he simply walked over towards the desks.

Ito: (......There's no reason that would have been a glare...but isn't the sharpness of his gaze way too much?) (It was even scarier because he's so handsome......speaking of which, Roka-san and Kise-san are both good-looking too.) (The people who work here really have visuals on a different level than the general population.)

Yuzuru: Good morning, Ai-san. What would you like today?

Ai: Coffee.

Ito: (Ai-san, I suppose. Unlike Kise-san, you can easily tell that he's hard to approach......)

Rare: Morning, morniiing!

Ai: Wrong. "Good morning". It's "good morning". Try saying it.

Rare: It's good morning! Try saying it!

Ai: Don't order me around.

Ito: (......Or maybe not.)

"Ai-san" took off his coat, and a skilfully prepared cup of coffee was placed on the desk he sat at.

After he had taken a small sip and placed it down again, Kise-san called me over to him.

Yuzuru: I'll introduce you. This is Ai Kosaka. He's the chief of your department, the "Main Office", and the person entrusted by Roka-san to oversee management matters and overall unification of Aporia.

Ito: (Management and unification......so that means the "real" boss is this Kosaka-san, I guess?)

Ai: ......

Ito: (......The amount of pressure I'm feeling isn't normal......) My name is Yashiro. I'll be in your care from today onwards. Chief Kosaka...is it all right if I call you that?

Ai: Just Kosaka is fine, you don't need to speak so formally. But do not forget that respect.

Ito: (Respect......)

Ai: You may be replacing Roka, but I expect you to properly work hard. Keep that in mind.

Ito: ......Yes, sir.

Although I felt differently about Roka-san's style of working, I replied without saying anything unnecessary.

That seemed to be the correct answer, as Kosaka-san nodded slightly and raised his coffee cup to his mouth......

And took the document that Kise-san offered to him—my employment contract.

Ai: Your work duties are as stated in the contract. As the deputy owner, you will be in charge of "in-store agency".

Previous | Index | Next

[goblinontour]

Use Our Power For Good

why start your own firm…why not?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

warnings: lawyer!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), mutual masturbation (tiny bit), fucking, alex & his cocobolo

word count: 8.3k

You sat at his table, legs crossed, nibbling on a piece of toast as you watched Alex move around the kitchen. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and an old pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

There was a subtle elegance in how he moved, even when he was doing something as mundane as making eggs. That messy dark hair of his hung loosely over his forehead, framing the sharp lines of his face, the kind that made people stop and stare in courtrooms. He looked different in the mornings. Softer than the man who cross-examined witnesses with a razor-sharp tongue. 

He turned towards you, the smirk already forming on his lips before he even spoke. “You staring at me for a reason, or are you just plotting your next move?”

You took another bite of toast, letting the corner of your mouth lift in response. “Can’t a girl appreciate the view without ulterior motives?”

He set the pan down, eggs forgotten for a moment as he walked toward you, his fingers trailing across the back of your chair before he bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just making sure. Gotta stay sharp.”

The kiss wasn’t hurried or overthought. Just a habitual gesture, like he couldn’t help himself, like staying too far away for too long was never really an option. His lips lingered against your skin for a beat longer than necessary before he straightened and returned to his side of the table, sitting down with his plate of eggs and toast. He always touched you like this, as though you were just an extension of him. It made your chest warm.

You took another sip of coffee, watching him dig into his breakfast. He was quiet again, focused on eating, but his free hand slipped across the table, resting on your thigh under the tablecloth. He didn’t even look up as he did it, just absently drew slow circles with his thumb, a familiar gesture. A reflex.

He was scrolling through his phone, probably checking emails or reading up on the day’s news. You took another bite of your toast, watching him as he absently poked at his eggs. 

“Big case today?” you asked, mostly out of habit.

“Yeah.” he replied, still staring at the screen. “Closing arguments.” He finally glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Should be a fun one.”

“Is it ever?”

He smirked, that familiar, cocky glint in his eyes. “Not if you’re doing it right.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. 

“So…” you said, setting your mug down. “Are you ready for those closing arguments then?”

He nodded, mouth half-full, but his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Yeah. All prepped. Just gotta go in there and do what I do best.”

“Being an insufferable ass?” you teased.

“Being brilliant.” he corrected, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “It’s why you like me, right?”

You gave him a look, shaking your head with a mock sigh. “I like you despite that, Turner.”

“Right. Of course.” he said, but his eyes never left yours, that sharp, unreadable gleam in them. “Anyway, you’re not exactly a saint yourself. Might even say you’re worse.”

You shrugged. “Only when necessary.”

Breakfast went on like that. Quiet moments, punctuated with the occasional quip. The kind of banter that was so ingrained in your relationship, it felt like breathing. You never really had to explain things to each other, never had to go over the same ground. You just existed in sync, even when the silence stretched between you.

After finishing up, you stood and wandered toward the bathroom, and soon enough, Alex followed. The two of you brushed your teeth together. In sync, like it was second nature. He was to your left, his arm brushing yours every now and then as he mimicked your movements. Spitting, rinsing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as if it was part of some unspoken choreography you’d long ago perfected. It was all part of this strange, unpolished intimacy. 

Neither of you said a word. There wasn’t any need. You didn’t even look at each other, but you could feel him there, right next to you, every breath, every subtle shift of his body.

No declarations. No grand gestures. Just being.

When you both finished, he ran his fingers through his hair and turned to leave, heading to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. You followed, watching as he rummaged through his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. He slipped into his trousers first, the charcoal grey fabric sitting perfectly on his lean frame. He was halfway through buttoning them when his fingers faltered, fumbling with the belt.

He cursed softly under his breath, the faintest flush rising on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to asking for help, in any circumstances really.

“Need a hand?” you asked with a teasing lilt in your voice, crossing the room.

Alex shot you a mock glare. “I’ve got it.”

“Mhm, sure.” you said, reaching for his belt before he could protest further.

You slid the belt through the loops, threading it carefully around his waist. His eyes stayed on you, watching the movement of your hands, and for a brief moment, the air between you shifted, heavier. His fingers brushed your wrist lightly, and you glanced up at him, seeing the way his lips tugged into a small smile.

His grip lingered just enough to send a clear message, his touch unmistakable. His smirk widened, knowing full well what he was doing. He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

“You want me to have carpet burn on my knees at work?” you teased, already undoing the button you’d just buttoned and pushing his pants back down with ease.

“You don’t have to wear a skirt.” he replied, the suggestion just as casual as it was loaded.

“Maybe I want to show off my legs.” you retorted, sinking to your knees in front of him, your fingers already tracing the waistband of his briefs. He reached down, brushing your hair back, his thumb grazing the side of your jaw.

“Nah,” he said, voice low, “they don’t need to see your legs.”

“I’ve got beautiful legs.” you countered, your hands deftly working to pull him free from the confines of his briefs. 

“That you do.” he agreed, voice rougher now, desire evident. “But one admirer is enough.”

“Yeah?” you asked, looking up at him, lips grazing his skin.

“I’d say so.” His hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it to your mouth. You licked, tasting him, and his groan sent a thrill down your spine. His fingers threaded through your hair as you took him deeper, his head tilting back with a stifled moan. 

There wasn’t much time, but that never seemed to bother him. You’d had sex the night before, but Alex was insatiable, always wanting more, always needing you. His hips rocked gently toward you as you worked, your mouth warm and eager, and each sound he made was a reminder of how deeply he craved you.

“Just like that.” he breathed, his voice ragged, and you could feel the tension coiling in his body.

His grip on your hair tightened, just enough to keep you where he wanted, guiding your movements as his breathing grew heavier. You moved in sync with him, the rhythm between you both intensifying. Every little moan, every gasp, fueled you, pushing you to keep going, to give him exactly what he needed.

“Fuck.” he muttered, his hips stuttering slightly, and you could tell he was close already. His thighs trembled, muscles tensing beneath your touch as you sped up, your lips and tongue working him over, eager to push him to that edge. “You’re so good...don’t stop.”

His words, though steady at first, soon dissolved into incoherent murmurs, half-formed phrases that trailed off as his pleasure overtook him. His grip in your hair became more insistent. His fingers flexed. Possessive, almost desperate. His chest heaved, and the next groan that escaped him was louder, more guttural. “Gonna-” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the words cut off by the pleasure coursing through him. 

He pushed himself deep, holding you there as his release hit, his body jerking as he came into your mouth. His moans filled the space, deep and raw, and you felt the satisfaction of knowing you’d brought him there, unravelled him like no one else could.

He swore under his breath, the sound escaping between clenched teeth as he held you close, his fingers pressing into the back of your head, keeping you there. “Swallow…” he muttered, his voice strained but commanding. “Yeah…swallow it- fuck-”

You did as he asked, feeling his release warm inside your mouth as his hand gently relaxed its hold on you, his body beginning to soften from the intensity of the moment. Finally, he pulled back, his breathing still uneven, and you took a deep breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood.

His head was still tilted back, eyes closed, a lingering smile on his face as he came down from the high. When he finally opened his eyes, meeting yours, the look he gave you was one of pure satisfaction. “You’re too damn good at that.” he muttered, voice still hoarse with lingering pleasure.

You grinned, standing up and brushing yourself off, giving him a playful smirk. “I know.”

The air between you was thick with the afterglow on his part. You helped him pull up his pants and fastened the belt you’d teasingly started to buckle earlier but ultimately failed. Alex watched you with a blissed-out expression, his usual cool demeanour softened.

“Thanks.” he murmured, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back, straightening his collar with a quick touch. “Don’t get used to it.” you teased, but the warmth in your voice betrayed the affection that always lingered beneath the surface.

Alex chuckled softly, the sound low and easy, as he leaned back against the desk behind him, still catching his breath. He pulled you close, one arm snaking around your waist as he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his grin was softer, but still wicked. “Round two later? Pay you back.” he teased.

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you can handle it.”

His laughter echoed through the room. “We’ll see about that.”

His hand came up, fingers gently adjusting the collar of your shirt in turn. “You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious, “you never get your collar right.”

His touch was deliberate but light, moving on autopilot, as if he was still half-asleep despite other parts of him being very much awake just minutes before.

You arched an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. “I think I’m capable of managing a collar.”

“Just doing my part.” he shrugged. “Gotta keep you looking sharp too, don’t I?” he said, with just a hint of that teasing tone you both fell into so easily. 

You tilted your head at him. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to fix it for me every time.”

“That’s probably it.” he murmured, his hands lingering at your collar for a beat too long. His thumb ran across the fabric one more time, smoothing it down before his hands rested on your shoulders. 

As he finished getting ready, you grabbed your blazer and slid it on, reaching for your bag. You could feel his gaze following you across the room. He was fastening his cufflinks now, the polished lawyer reappearing beneath the quiet intimacy of the morning.

“Am I gonna get to see you for lunch today?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they met yours through the mirror.

“Yeah.” you said, not looking away as you smoothed down the front of your blazer. “I’ll make it work.”

“Good.” he said, his voice dipping lower. “Can’t go too long without you.”

He said it like a fact, not a compliment, not even an acknowledgment of your relationship. Just a truth. 

“Wouldn’t want to have to go a whole day without seeing your charming self.” you shot back. 

The smile on his face was disarming, warm, and so utterly Alex. There was something so simple in it.

With one last glance at each other, he grabbed his briefcase and you headed out the door together, slipping back into the roles you played so well. But in these quiet moments, in the space between courtrooms and deadlines, there was something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to define but were already living.

The morning had flown by, and your mind was still buzzing with the details of your case as you sat at your desk, flipping through documents. The office around you was its usual hive of activity. Murmured conversations, the soft hum of printers, the distant clatter of keyboards. You barely noticed the way the time slipped away until your phone buzzed on the desk, cutting through your focus.

Alex’s name lit up the screen.

You answered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temple with your free hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.” he replied. You could hear the low hum of the car engine in the background. “I’m in the car, just a few minutes out.”

You glanced at the clock, biting your lip. The familiar pang of guilt settled in your chest. “I don’t have much time.” you said, your words rushing out quicker than you intended. “I’ve got a meeting in twenty.”

There was a pause on the other end, a small silence that felt heavier than it should have, just long enough to feel his frustration seep through the line. You could almost picture him, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel, his brow furrowing in that way it always did when he was frustrated but trying to hold it in. “Yeah, I know.” he muttered, his voice quiet. You heard him shift, a soft exhale of breath escaping him. “The traffic’s a nightmare today. Honestly, how do people drive in this city?” he grumbled, half to himself. “Should’ve just walked at this point.”

You smiled faintly at the thought, but the weight of what came next erased any humour from the moment.

“We need to talk about this,” he said suddenly, his voice dropping an octave, growing more serious, “you and me. This is getting insufferable. You know we should just work together. It makes sense.”

Your heart did that thing it always did when he caught you off guard, skipping a beat, leaving a rush of warmth in its wake. You felt a knot form in your stomach, the kind you got when you knew something was coming that you weren’t ready for. You’d always had this unspoken line between work and...whatever it was the two of you had. A line you knew could blur if you weren’t careful.

“Work together?” you repeated, more as a stall than anything, trying to gather your thoughts. “Alex, I don’t...”

“Yeah.” he cut in, his voice stronger now, as if he’d been rehearsing this in his head. “You and I, together. We’d kill it in court. Think about it. Why keep butting heads at different firms when we could just...” He trailed off, but you knew where his mind was going. It was in the space between his words, hanging heavy in the air like he didn’t need to say it out loud. “It’s logical.”

The idea wasn’t new. He’d hinted at it before, thrown out suggestions here and there, always couched in some half-joke. But this was different. He was serious now, no more dodging around it.

You didn’t know what to say. Logically, he was right. You’d been a force to be reckoned with whenever you faced off in court. The cases you’d gone against each other on were some of the best work you’d ever done. Exhilarating in a way that made you feel more alive. But there was something about mixing work with...this. Whatever this was. It wasn’t just simple anymore.

“I don’t know.” you said finally, your voice softer, hesitant. “It’s just...it’s a lot, Alex. You know that.”

He sighed on the other end, and you could hear the frustration mixed with understanding. “Yeah, I get it.” said, and you heard the creak of the steering wheel as he gripped it tighter, a long exhale filling the silence. “But it doesn’t have to be. You and me, we’re already halfway there. We could just make it official, take it to…to the next level, you know.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the tension of the conversation build in your chest. It wasn’t just about working together. It was about everything else that came with it. The unspoken moments between you, the way he kissed you without thinking, the way you fell into this easy rhythm together. You didn’t know if you could handle that being tangled up with the ruthless, high-stakes world you both worked in.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, “I need to think about it.”

There was another pause, and you could feel him shifting in his seat, probably glancing out the window, his mind already running through different arguments to convince you. But he didn’t push it, not this time. The car’s engine hummed softly in the background, and you could hear the faint click of his turn signal as he switched lanes, inching his way through the traffic. You could practically see his expression, the tight line of his lips, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited for a different answer. 

“Alex?” you called out, knowing he was still there but not knowing how to change the subject already without hurting him more.

“I’m here.”

“Alex…” you hesitated, running a hand through your hair as you leaned back in your chair, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. “You know it’s not just about work. If we did this- if we worked together it- it would change everything. It’s not just you and me in court, you know that.”

“Yeah, but maybe that’s not a bad thing.” His voice was firm but quieter, trying not to push too hard. “I know we’ve got something good going on, but it could be better. We wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. We could be a team, inside and out.”

You could hear the light change through the phone, the faint rev of his engine as he started moving again. He was getting closer, but you felt further away from an answer. This was Alex. The same man who made you feel more alive than anyone else but also made you question every line you’d ever drawn in the sand.

“I just don’t want to mess this up.” you said softly, almost to yourself.

“You won’t.” he replied quickly, like he’d already made up his mind. “We won’t. We’re good together. You know that.”

The knot in your stomach didn’t unravel, though. If anything, it tightened as his words echoed in your head. You knew this wasn’t the last time he’d bring it up. He wouldn’t let it go easily. The idea of working together, of making your personal and professional lives one...It was a lot. Maybe too much.

But knowing Alex, he wasn’t going to stop until he made you see why it made sense.

“Just...drive safe, okay?” you added, trying to shift the conversation away from the heavy stuff. You couldn’t tackle this right now. Not with a meeting in twenty minutes and a head full of case details.

“Yeah.” he said, and you could hear the tension in his voice, but he didn’t press further. “I’ll be there in 5.”

“Okay.” you breathed. “Bye, Alex.”

“Bye.”

You hung up, staring at your phone for a moment as his words echoed in your mind. You stared at the wall for what felt like two seconds but when you glanced back at your screen you saw his text saying he’s pulling up. You sprinted out of your office, the door barely clicking shut behind you as you rushed down the stairwell. Taking the stairs was faster than the elevator, and besides, it gave you a few extra seconds to collect yourself before you met him. 

You and Alex had this unspoken routine. You’d meet him in the parking lot most times, tucked away where no one else was around. Down there, you didn’t have to be the sharp lawyers the world expected. You could just be you, and he could be him.

You pushed open the heavy door, the cool breeze hitting your face as you stepped out into the open. The lot was mostly empty this time of day, just a few scattered cars from the building’s occupants. You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, the usual knot of anticipation already forming in your stomach.

Then, you saw him.

Alex pulled up in his black car, the engine purring as it rolled into a spot a few feet away from you. He cut the engine and stepped out, immediately shrugging off his suit blazer and draping it over his arm like it was second nature. He looked every bit the part of the high-powered lawyer anyone would expect. White shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie slightly loosened. But there was something different about him here, something softer, more familiar. His eyes found yours as he walked toward you, and that faint smile of his tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he did. It was casual, but the contact lingered, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You always beat me down ‘ere.” he teased.

You shrugged, pulling out a cigarette from your jacket pocket. He reached into his own for a lighter, flicking it to life and holding the flame out for you. You leaned in, the tip of the cigarette catching fire, and took a slow drag as he watched you, his eyes searching your face for something unspoken.

“About earlier…” he started, and you could hear the nervousness creeping into his voice. He wasn’t usually like this. Hesitant. “I was serious, you know. About us…working together.”

You exhaled, the smoke swirling in the air between you as you passed the cigarette to him. He took a drag, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited for your response.

“What do you say?” he asked, his voice low but insistent now that he could actually see you, not just hear your voice.

You glanced down at the ground for a moment, buying yourself a few seconds before meeting his gaze again. “I just- I don’t see why it’s so important to you that we work together.”

He held the cigarette between his fingers and then, carefully, brought it back to your lips, watching you as you took another drag. His fingers brushed your chin lightly, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stared at him, and he stared right back, his expression unreadable but intense, like he was trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“I mean,” you gestured between the two of you, “we’re already…you know.” The words were clumsy, but he understood. “Why do you need me for this?”

He looked down for a second, his brows furrowing as if he was choosing his words carefully. When he looked back up, his voice was soft but steady. “I don’t need you. I want you.”

You felt your chest tighten at the simplicity of his words, the quiet honesty in them. You held his gaze, letting the weight of what he was saying sink in. 

“You’ve got me.” you said, kicking his foot lightly with the heel of your shoe, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Just…not as a law partner.”

He chuckled softly, a brief, resigned sound, as if he had expected the answer but had hoped for something different. You took another slow drag from the cigarette, savouring the moment, then passed it back to him.

“I have to get back to work.” you said after a pause, nodding toward the office building. “You okay?”

Alex hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ground, then back up at you with a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. Go on.”

You lingered for a moment longer, searching his face for something. An answer, maybe. To what question you didn’t know. Or reassurance. But all you found was that quiet confidence. He wasn’t going to push it, at least not right now. 

“See you later?” he called after you as you turned to leave.

“Yeah.” you replied, already making your way back toward the stairs.

“Yours?” he asked, his voice louder now, echoing slightly off the concrete walls of the parking lot.

“Sure!” you called over your shoulder without turning around, a smile pulling at your lips as you jogged back up the stairs, the cigarette smoke still lingering in the air behind you.

You were already in bed, the soft sheets pulled up around your waist, your skin still warm from the shower, the faint scent of your body lotion mingling with the cool air. The room was dim, the only light coming from the small lamp on the bedside table. You’d changed into one of his old t-shirts, the familiar fabric loose and worn in a way that made it impossible to part with, no matter how many times he teased you for stealing it. The quiet stretched on as you waited for Alex to come home. You’d been waiting, listening for the door creaking open, the soft shuffle of his footsteps.

When you heard the soft click of the door, your ears perked up. You didn’t move, but you could feel the shift in the air. Alex came in quietly, much more than usual. Normally, he’d throw his jacket over a chair or kick off his shoes with a heavy thud, but tonight there was a certain stillness about him. 

He looked worn out. His shirt, which had been crisp and neat this morning, was now wrinkled and untucked, the first few buttons already undone. The lines of his face seemed deeper in the dim light, shadows catching in the angles of his cheekbones and jaw. 

You told yourself it was because he had a long day. Maybe the case had drained him, maybe he was exhausted. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. He looked tired, sure, but there was something else lingering in his expression. Something unsettled.

He dropped his keys on the dresser and made his way over to the drawer he kept here, the one where he’d stashed a few pairs of pyjamas, toothbrush, the essentials that had come to live at your place over time. You watched him from your side of the bed. His fingers moved lazily, tugging off his tie and tossing it aside before unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, peeling it off with slow, almost mechanical movements, revealing the familiar lines of his arms and the muscles in his back tensing as he stretched briefly.

He slipped into his pyjama bottoms and pulled on a t-shirt, the one that clung a little too tight to his chest but he refused to replace. You caught yourself staring, something about watching him shed the day’s uniform, the shield he wore out in the world, felt strangely intimate. His head tilted slightly as if he were trying to shake off the day before climbing into bed beside you. 

He leaned back against the headboard, pulling his legs up under the covers. He didn’t look at you, though. Not right away. Instead, he reached for the book that had been sitting on your nightstand for weeks, long forgotten since the last time he’d stayed over. 

He opened it, the pages rustling softly, but you knew he wasn’t really reading. He wasn’t even pretending to be interested. His eyes didn’t track the words, his fingers didn’t move to turn the page. He was just holding it, an anchor for his hands, something to focus on other than you. You knew he wasn’t reading. He knew you knew. You watched him. His brow furrowed slightly, the subtle tension in his jaw telling you he wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted to seem. After a few minutes, you broke the silence.

You cleared your throat softly, turning slightly to face him, resting your head on your hand as you studied his profile. “How did that case go today?”

“Huh?” he asked, glancing up at you for a second, almost like he hadn’t heard you. He had.

You repeated the question, trying to keep your voice light. “The case. How’d it go?”

“Oh.” He shifted slightly, closing the book halfway, letting it rest in his lap as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was good, yeah.”

There was a beat of silence, and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed, “Is that all?”

He hesitated, and you could see the gears turning in his head, like he was debating how much to tell you or how much to leave unsaid. Finally, he shrugged. “It went really well. Best outcome possible. But...I wasn’t expecting anything else, really.” His voice was flat, like the words were rehearsed, like he was brushing off a win that didn’t excite him anymore. 

You studied him for a second, taking in the way his lips pressed together in that subtle frown, how his fingers tightened slightly around the spine of the book. He wasn’t tense exactly, just…off. 

“Then why are you acting like it wasn’t?”

He sighed, staring at some distant point on the wall. His fingers tapped against the book cover in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Alex, what’s going on?”

He sighed, again, setting the book back on the nightstand with a soft thud. He just sat there, staring down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand as if the answer was written there. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then he stopped himself, exhaling slowly. For a moment, you thought he might brush you off, tell you everything was fine and leave it at that. 

“It’s not the case.” he finally muttered, his voice quieter now. “It’s everything else. Work, this…” He gestured vaguely, not quite looking at you. “I can handle it, but lately, it’s been…I don’t know. It’s just...I’ve been thinking ‘bout earlier. What I said.”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact, waiting for him to continue.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so…against it.” he admitted, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt now, that old nervous habit of his resurfacing. “I thought you’d at least consider it.”

You let out a small breath, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s not that I’m against it, Alex.” you explained. “It’s just...complicated.”

“I don’t see why it has to be.” he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly, his hand reaching for yours almost instinctively, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the quiet sincerity in his touch. 

“Everything feels like it’s building up, and I can’t figure out why it’s getting to me like this.” he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. “Us...I don't know. It’s like…” He stopped himself, letting out a low, frustrated sigh. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s making you feel like this. Talk to me.”

He looked down at your hand in his, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. After a long moment, he gave a small nod, but he still didn’t speak. Instead, he turned his hand over, threading his fingers more tightly with yours. 

“It’s just hard.” he finally admitted. “I thought we would be on the same page.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “We are. I just need time to sort through it.”

His gaze flickered to yours, a mix of frustration and hurt. “Time? That’s what you need? I’m tired of waiting.”

“Alex, please-”

“Just cut it out!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “I’m not doing this now.”

He picked up his book again, but the tension in the air was palpable. You watched him for a moment, feeling a flash of irritation, but you bit it back. It wasn’t worth pushing him further, not when you could tell he was already on edge. So instead, you slipped your hand under the covers, over his stomach, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch.

You knew this was a distraction, but maybe it was what you both needed. Sex was great between you two. Sex was a distraction. A good one at that. At least temporarily. 

He made a small sound, a mix of surprise and something else as your hand moved lower. You felt his hands tremble slightly on the book, and he turned to look at you, his expression shifting.

“You promised you’d pay me back this morning.” you reminded him softly.

“Fine.” he replied, shifting closer. 

His hand slipped inside your underwear, a rush of heat igniting between you. You stroked him gently, feeling the tension begin to ease. His breath quickened as he rubbed you in return, his fingers moving in sync with your hand, both of you seeking that familiar distraction, that physical release. His touch was firm but not rushed, the way it always was when you needed to feel close but couldn’t find the words to say it. It felt good, but not quite enough.

“Are you going to drop the mad act already?” you asked, teasing him gently.

Alex gave a small, breathy laugh, pulling his hand from you and rolling over, hovering above you now. He looked down at you, his eyes soft but still clouded with something unsaid. “I’m only doing this,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours, “because I’m a man of my word.”

His lips brushed against yours, and in that moment, it felt like everything else faded away. You smiled faintly, your hands slipping around his waist as he kissed you, his weight settling over you just enough to feel his warmth, his presence. 

His hands found their way to your hips, slipping under the fabric of your shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin. There was something unhurried in the way he touched you, as if he wasn’t in any rush to push things further, just savouring the closeness, the feel of you beneath him.

But you could sense the restlessness in him. That quiet frustration still hummed beneath the surface, barely contained. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his for a moment, catching your breath.

“You’re still pissed.” you said softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. He didn’t respond immediately, just exhaled heavily, his eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“I’m not-” he started, but you cut him off with a gentle nudge.

“Don’t lie. I know you.”

He opened his eyes again, staring down at you, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and affection. “I’m not pissed.” he said, though there was an edge of stubbornness in his voice. “I just...I wasn’t expecting you to shut it down. It made sense to me.”

“I didn’t shut it down.” you countered, brushing your thumb across his jawline. “I just-”

“Shut up.” he said, slamming his mouth back onto yours, giving you no choice but to do as he said. 

As the kiss deepened, the conversation slipped away, replaced by the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving together. His hand found your waist again, tugging you closer, and for a while, you let yourselves get lost in each other. 

He pulled your shorts down, and you tugged his boxers down. You chuckled, glancing down at him. “See? You’re already hard. And to think you wanted to pretend you didn’t want this.” you remarked, a playful edge to your tone.

“Yeah, because you were just jerking me off, of course I’m-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Just fuck me.” you demanded. 

“You sure?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm, teasing.

“Shut up.” Your words came out in a breathless rush, your pulse racing as his lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “More cock, less talk.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration of it spreading through you, and despite yourself, you laughed softly, the sound mingling with his. His forehead pressed against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with your own. 

“You’re impossible.” he said, though a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the playful tone lingering between you both.

“Yeah,” you replied with a smirk, “but you love it.”

His grin widened as he closed the space between you, his mouth claiming yours. “Guess I’ll just have to show you.”

His hands gripped your hips firmly, rough fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure, pulling you against him. Your bodies pressed together, heat radiating between you, every inch of him solid. 

With a slow thrust, he pushed inside you, his body filling yours completely, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as your body arched beneath him. His own groan followed, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as the playful edge disappeared. 

His hips withdrew slightly, only to drive forward again, deeper this time, his movements slow but intense. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he hooked your leg around his waist, the angle changing, every thrust hitting deeper. 

“God, you feel fucking amazing.” he gasped, his breath hot against your skin, his forehead pressing to yours once more, eyes locking onto you. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on, and he responded without hesitation, his hips driving forward again and again and again. “Tell me what you want.” he rasped. 

“I want you.” you answered, your eyes locking onto his, your body tightening around him with every thrust. “I want all of you.”

“You have me.” he breathed. “Completely.”

“Then don't hold back.” you pleaded, the urgency of your words sending a thrill through him.

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room, skin against skin, the slap of it in sync with the pounding of your heartbeat. The air between you grew hotter, more charged, as his movements became more frenzied, less controlled. 

“That’s it…” he muttered through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding on. “Fuck.”

“Alex.” you gasped, your body coiling tighter, that familiar warmth building low in your belly, spreading through your veins. He paused, just for a heartbeat. 

“Look at me.” he commanded. 

You met his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. “Just us.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse. He nodded, his expression softening even as his body remained taut.

His movements resumed, but now, there was a new intensity to them, a rhythm that felt like it was made just for you, attuned to your every reaction. Your body moved instinctively in time with his, every nerve alive, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder as pleasure surged through you.

You clung to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as his thrusts became more urgent, more relentless. His name escaped your lips in a breathless, needy whisper, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His hips snapped against yours desperately. 

“God…” he muttered, his breath ragged, “so fucking good.”

The words barely sank in, your mind clouded by the pressure coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers skillfully finding that swollen spot. He rubbed in perfect sync with his thrusts. The slick warmth of his touch, each movement, each stroke, pushed you closer to breaking.

“Together…” you breathed, barely able to get the words out, your voice tight with need.

His eyes met yours, dark and filled with a feral intensity. He quickened his pace, his hips driving into you with a frantic intensity that left no space between pleasure and pain, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The tension in your body spiralled, every nerve set alight as his body slammed into yours. There was only him and his body moving inside you. 

“Fuck, it feels so good.” he groaned, his voice strained.

“Alex-” His name was barely a whisper, lost in the sounds of skin meeting skin. 

“I’m close.” he gasped, his breath ragged, his grip on your thigh tightening as he thrust into you harder. His eyes were wild now, half-lidded and filled with raw need. His body moved over you like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t push deep enough, fast enough. His cock drove into you with desperate force, the angle hitting just right, over and over, until your head fell back. 

“Fuck- please-” you cried out, your body trembling beneath him, your nails digging into his back as you held on, the tension inside you about to snap. “Now. Now.” you choked out, your body trembling uncontrollably. 

He grunted in response, his face contorted with the strain of holding back. His hips slammed into you harder, faster, every movement rough, relentless. He was close, so close, and you could feel it in the way his breath came out. 

“Jesus- fuck-” He groaned deeply, his head falling forward, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezing shut as his hips jerked forward.

“Gonna come-” your voice was low, just as wrecked as his.

You cried out as your orgasm hit, your entire body seizing, muscles clenching hard around him. You could feel him inside you, still moving, his cock twitching as your body squeezed tight around him.

He wasn’t far behind. You could feel his body tighten, his rhythm faltering as he swore under his breath. “Fuck...so tight, I’m gonna-” His words broke off in a guttural groan as his hips jerked erratically, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he came hard, spilling into you with a few final, messy thrusts. His whole body shuddered, hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure wracked through him, each pulse drawing another breathless curse from his lips.

“Fuck…” he swore again, voice strangled and hoarse, his movements growing more sluggish and sensitive. His body shivered against yours, the intensity of his release leaving him trembling, breathless, each small movement sending a jolt through him that made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought the overstimulation.

“Shit.” he groaned, his face buried against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. He gave one last shallow thrust, his body shaking as he finally stilled, collapsing against you.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths. His weight pressed down on you, heavy but in a good way, his chest rising and falling against yours. His lips brushed against your neck, still hot with exertion, and you could feel his heart hammering against your skin, the rhythm slowing as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around you, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

His breath came out in a long, shaky exhale as he slowly started to come down, body still twitching in the aftermath. His forehead rested against yours again, his eyes fluttering open, heavy-lidded and glazed with exhaustion. He gave you a weak, satisfied smile.

“Well,” you muttered, still catching your breath, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, “that’s one way to shut you up.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your skin. “Yeah...but I think I’ll need a minute to recover.” His body slumped against yours, spent, his weight heavy but familiar. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering like he didn’t want to move just yet. “Honestly, I think I’ll let you do the talking from now on…we should’ve just done this from the start.”

He shifted slightly, his hips still flush against you, his cock twitching inside, even as he softened. His breath hitched, and he groaned quietly. “I’m still too sensitive...you’ve ruined me.”

You laughed, brushing a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “That’s your problem now.”

“Yeah, it’s a good problem to have.” he murmured, his arms winding tighter around you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your skinz He needed the closeness, even a millimetre of distance would be too much. “Can we just stay like this for a bit? I like being close to you.”

He always got clingy after sex. It was sweet, endearing, really, but there was a softness in the way he did it that never failed to make you smile. You nodded, tightening your arms around him in response.

“Yeah, we can stay like this.”

Eventually, the heat between your bodies became too much, and he rolled off you, but not far. With a content sigh, he shifted onto his back, pulling you against his chest, his arm draping protectively over your waist. His fingers traced lazy circles on your shoulder, the soothing rhythm of his touch lulling you into a peaceful calm.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his hand still absentmindedly stroking your skin, until he broke the silence with a quiet, “Hey.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “Hey. What’s on your mind?” you asked.

“I want a cocobolo desk.” he blurted out, completely serious.

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“Yeah, I know…we were just- uh, you know- and I’m thinking about furniture.”

“You were just inside me, Alex.” you said, still catching your breath, a laugh bubbling up. “And you’re thinking about a cocobolo desk?”

“I was thinking about it then too.” he admitted sheepishly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You playfully shoved his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re such a bastard.”

“I’m a multi-tasker,” he said, “I can focus on more than one important thing at a time.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, yeah? So I’m just as important as a desk?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning deep thought. “You know I love you.”

“More than a cocobolo desk?” you teased, smirking.

“Comme ci, comme ça.” You could tell he was only half-joking, and that made it all the funnier.

“Fuck your desk.” you shot back, still grinning. “We’re not talking about desks right now.”

“It’s a beautiful desk.” he insisted, his voice dropping in mock seriousness. “Elegant. Sleek. Very functional.” He gestured with his hands like he was painting a picture of it in the air.

You fought the smile threatening to break through but couldn’t hold back. “What are we even doing here?”

He shifted, leaning closer so that his forehead rested against yours. “Just dreaming about the future, I guess.” he said softly, his voice a little more vulnerable now. “You’re dripping out what could’ve been my future, you know. All that cum? Just wasted potential. Those could’ve been great kids.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right.” he teased, giving you a lopsided grin. “I’m talking little prodigies, world-changers. And now…we’ll never know.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re really out here mourning imaginary kids?”

“I’m just saying.” he shrugged, still smirking. “Lost potential…but seriously,” he said, lowering his voice, “a cocobolo desk would be perfect for the office.”

You raised a brow. “What office?”

“Ours. You know, when you change your mind and we start our own firm.”

You sighed dramatically, though you couldn’t keep the warmth from your tone. “Okay, fine. Maybe. But can we remember that we’re naked and we just fucked raw for now, baby?”

His grin softened as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. “Oh, I remember.” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re very touchy tonight.”

He nuzzled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I just think it’s important to reflect on our…accomplishments. I mean, look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, smirking. “That last round?” His hand settled on your hip, pulling you even closer. “That was top-tier teamwork.”

“You’re seriously calling this teamwork?”

He nodded solemnly, though his grin betrayed him. “Oh, definitely. Partnership at its finest. And just wait until you see this desk. You’ll understand. You’ll fall in love with it, I swear.”

“Jeez, Turner.” you laughed, “I hate that I love you sometimes.” 

He kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment like he was trying to soak it all in. “I love you too.” he murmured, his voice softer now, more serious, like he needed you to really hear it. “And not just because you put up with me.”

You smiled into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you just a bit more. His breath slowed, growing deeper, more relaxed, but his grip on you never loosened. Even in his awkward, clingy way, you could feel how much he needed this, you.

a/n: Like I said, heavily based on Kim & Jimmy from BCS. I mean, the cocobolo says it all. I would be down for a follow up part if anyone would like that.

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[namig42]

New chapter just dropped. Something short and intriguing, and the next chapter is one that I have been DYING to write, so please enjoy, Wyllstarion shippers!

Just One Yesterday (Ch. 10)

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Read it on Ao3

Summary: This is a modern AU where Wyll is a police officer and Astarion is a sex worker. Despite a problematic start, the two manage to find a connection and have it build in time into something more while also dealing with their demons.

---

Over the course of the week, Wyll began to brainstorm a plan. He needed information. He needed to find an opening or an entrance to the Depths. As risky as it was, he needed to follow Cazador’s hunters and see where they went. If he could find one opening or some vulnerability of Cazador’s, then he could make some plan of attack.

It may have been foolish and a bit emotionally charged, but Wyll thought he had the best odds following Astarion. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to see him again, but Wyll felt confident that at least if Astarion caught him, he wouldn’t say anything to Cazador. Wyll couldn’t really justify his intuition past blind trust, but he felt confident that Astarion would spare him and keep him safe.

He was responsible enough to follow his orders from Mizora the majority of the week. After his negligence on Monday for going to the library, she had told Wyll that she needed more consistency from him. He had already skipped a few nights and Zariel was still breathing down Mizora’s neck. She needed Wyll to work faster and more efficiently. If he failed to bring in an arrest every night for the next couple weeks, there would be punishments for Wyll the following morning. Wyll took that to heart and didn’t want any extra trouble unless it was necessary, not if he wanted to be able to execute his own personal mission.

After a long week of being Mizora’s perfect little pet and doing her bidding without fail, Saturday came along. Wyll had been a good dog the entire week and felt fine to disregard Mizora tonight because tonight was the fateful night where Astarion went to the Elfsong. Though he told Wyll not to come back to the bar, he didn’t explicitly say that Wyll was banned from spending time outside of the bar. Astarion probably would berate him for the exploitation of such a minor stipulation, but Wyll didn’t have a better plan in mind and needed to make tonight count.

Tonight was Wyll’s first attempt at tailing one of Cazador’s hunters. He needed to see where Astarion went and see if there was anything new to learn from observing the crimes firsthand. He arrived at the Elfsong around dusk, not wanting to risk Astarion leaving the bar early, and stood outside in the alleyway. He was dressed fairly casually in jeans and a burgundy hoodie, doing his best to look as conspicuous as possible. He leaned himself against one of the walls and blended in with the crowds outside the bar, but refused to let himself be sidetracked by conversation. He may have looked a bit shady, but that couldn’t deter him. Not at this point. If anyone asked, he was a hopeless fool waiting for a date that definitely stood him up.

As the hours passed and the sky went dark, Wyll questioned if this was the right call. What if Astarion wasn’t here tonight, or if he had another Szarr member with him? What if he spotted Wyll? Would he be upset? Furious? It was unlikely that he would abandon his mark if he saw Wyll, but Wyll’s anxiety began to worry about the what ifs and question if this was all worth it.

Of course it is. He needed information. He needed to do something about Cazador and needed a way to find evidence. This may be a betrayal of Astarion’s trust, but Wyll had enough faith that the silver-haired man would understand if only he knew Wyll’s intentions.

As Wyll spiraled in a flurry of his own thoughts as he overthought every choice he was making tonight, the clock ticked past eleven pm. Just around then, a familiar flash of white in Wyll’s peripherals caught the officer’s attention. He turned and saw Astarion with a woman similar to the one last week, though this woman had short, jet black hair compared to the long, luscious blonde locks from last week. She had on a fitted, bold red dress made of a shiny satin with black stilettos. It was an eye-catching ensemble, to be sure.

The couple were walking hand in hand as they came out of the bar, and it seemed Astarion was leading the woman back towards the main street. He gave the woman a polite and charming smile, luring her into a false sense of security and lust as they walked. Wyll waited a moment before tailing behind them at a fair distance. As long as he kept them in his sight, that was all he needed.

When the couple made it back to the main street, they turned left and continued on in the amber glow of the streetlights. Wyll waited behind the corner for a few seconds before turning and following suit. As they walked amongst the bustling party goers, Wyll did his best to keep his sights on Astarion. It helped that his head stuck out in a crowd, and he was tall enough to not be buried amongst the masses. Wyll didn’t have to shove past too many people, but certain spaces of the sidewalk were overrun with nightclub lines and bar crowds wanting to escape the heat inside the cramped buildings, and so Wyll had to politely excuse himself multiple times, still doing his best to keep his eye on his target.

At one point, Wyll stumbled on someone’s foot. “Watch it, asshat!” A brutish ogre of a woman yelled at Wyll. It was unnecessarily crass, and just as Wyll was surprised at the exclamation, he turned and realized he lost track of his objective. Oh no, Wyll thought, quickly looking around. Too many people were swarming the pavement now. Wyll shoved the rest of his way through until he was back in the open, but Astarion had disappeared. He had vanished into the night. As Wyll took in his surroundings to figure out where exactly he was, he looked to the right and noticed a familiar entrance. It was to the park where they had first met. On a whim, Wyll dashed towards the entrance, hoping that his intuition would prove correct.

And thank the gods it did. Wyll ran towards the gates and saw that familiar flash of silver walking past the fountain with the saucey woman in the red dress. They passed under the white glow of the lamps surrounding the fountain, and Wyll continued his stealthy approach. They walked down a path and through some shrubs, and all of it began to feel like deja vu. Were they going back to that same shed? The one Wyll and Astarion had shared a night in captivating conversation in?

Indeed they were. Wyll stayed far behind, hidden in the bushes, but he watched the couple enter the small shed and close the door behind them. Now, all Wyll could do was wait. For what, he wasn’t sure, but if his theories were correct, then something would happen tonight at this little hovel abandoned in the park. He crouched low in the bushes, watching the time and staring intently all around the shed. It was twenty past eleven. Wyll lifted his hood and prepared for a long night of waiting.

After only a few minutes, Wyll began to hear noises coming from the shed. There were soft moans at first, then they gradually grew louder and higher in pitch. Wyll only heard one voice and knew it was the woman’s, howling because of gods know what. Wyll blushed as his brain started imagining what was happening that would have her screaming in such ecstasy. It was only a couple of minutes before the sound peaked and dwindled away. Gods, he felt like such a pervert for listening to this. Wyll felt like he shouldn’t be hearing anything that came from the shed, but he couldn’t be put off by something as soft and sound as modesty. If he was going to waste a night tailing Astarion and his escapades, Wyll needed something to come of it. He needed some result to justify his disobedience to Mizora and something to sate his mind as he endured her punishments. He just had to deal with this shame long enough for something to happen, and if nothing came of this self-proclaimed espionage mission, well… he could deal with that embarrassment later.

Wyll’s shame only worsened as the noises started up again. A second round? That quickly? Wyll looked at his watch and saw that it was just barely past midnight now. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait before something significant happened, but gods, he hoped it wouldn’t be long.

Three more hours passed mostly in silence, much to Wyll’s relief, though occasionally Wyll heard softer sounds emanating from the building. He curled up in his hoodie and tried to drown out the soft cries of pleasure while his face burned, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the shed and risk missing something. The worst part was how vivid his imagination was. With nothing else to focus on, Wyll couldn’t help but visualize the scandalous actions going on behind those walls. He didn’t want to focus on the details, but his imagination couldn’t help it. He cursed his brain everytime it tried to paint a detailed picture of what Astarion could possibly be doing to that woman, what position they could possibly be in, where Astarion’s lips could be if his voice was missing almost entirely… Wyll’s face burned and he tried to shake the thoughts away, but to little avail.

Thankfully, something peculiar finally happened: someone new approached the shed. It was an old man that was just skin and bones with barely any gray hair left on his head. He was dressed in what looked like a blue janitor’s outfit with a black bag slung over his shoulder. He also had a dolly with him that he placed just outside the shed’s entrance. Before he opened the door, he pulled something out of the large pocket of his janitorial jumpsuit.

It looked like a pistol.

Wyll went on alert, ducking even lower into the shrubs and pulling his hood off to hear better. He looked down at his watch and saw that it was nearly four in the morning, only off by about ten minutes.

“What the- Who the hells are you?!” Wyll heard the woman shriek from inside the shed. He couldn’t see what happened, but there was more feminine screaming. “What? What are you doing? Get away from me! Astarion, help! Astarion?!”

After about ten seconds, it went silent. Wyll couldn’t hear anything else being said inside the tiny building, but there was a loud thud that he was able to make out amongst the dreadful silence. After about five minutes, the door opened again. The old man exited and reentered the shed with the dolly. When he came out once more, he had a crate loaded onto the dolly with Astarion following in tow. The woman was nowhere in sight, but Wyll had a suspicion that she was traveling with the other two, just in more cramped conditions.

Wyll saw the crate and remembered leaning on that very same box during his first interaction with Astarion. Did he lean on the very thing that they transported Cazador’s captives in? Was this what was supposed to happen to him that first night? It sent a wave of nausea through Wyll’s gut. To think, that could’ve been him in that box, unconscious and curled into a ball in order to fit, but Astarion had spared him from this fate. A warm pang struck Wyll’s heart at the realization, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

Astarion was buttoning the last button on his white dress shirt as he followed the old man away from the shed. “You’ve been too well behaved, boy. Hopin’ the master will find me a reason to bring you back to the kennels,” the old man said to Astarion. Astarion scoffed as he followed behind. “Godey, just shut up.”

“Good, keep up that kind of talk. I’ll be happy to tell the master all about it.”

Wyll began to follow behind the other two at a safe distance. He made mental notes as he stalked the two men and listened intently to every word. The kennels were something to be noted, whatever in the hells those were, and the fact that this Godey person kept using the term “master” told Wyll that Cazador was more than a mere boss to his ring. He had already known there was exploitation at play, but were Astarion and the other hunters slaves? Based on the way Astarion and even Aurelia handled questions regarding Cazador, it was a logical theory.

The two men Wyll tailed made their way through the park without much talk. Astarion had his arms crossed as he walked a few paces behind the old man, looking everywhere around him except ahead of himself or towards Godey. Soon, they passed through the center of the park and made their way towards the opposite side of the park, passing by the fountain as they crossed through the main square.

At the edge of the park, there was a wall of hedges. Godey approached what looked like a normal wall of ivy, then opened a secret door that led onto the Szarr estate with a mysterious handle hidden amongst the shrubbery, almost like magic. He walked through the opening first, followed by Astarion who quickly closed the door behind him. Once the door was shut, Wyll rushed to the hedge to try and find the hidden handle amongst the plants. He felt all around, but anything that felt like a hope was only a branch. “Shit,” Wyll hissed under his breath as the twigs snapped off the wall in his hands. He began pulling at the vines and sticks in desperation, and in the midst of his fury, he managed to pull on a thicker branch and heard a quiet click. Hesitantly, he pulled a bit more and the door gave way. Wyll peeked his head through just enough to see Astarion and the old man at the edge of the manor in the far distance. The two split at the edge of the building as Astarion made his way towards the front entrance, and Godey took the dolly somewhere in the opposite direction. Wyll left the door open a crack, afraid of not being able to find the handle on the inside of the estate wall if he wasn’t careful and cutting off his only means of escape. After securing his exit, Wyll began sneaking towards wherever the old man went.

Wyll went prone on the ground as he caught sight of Godey, hoping to be shrouded enough in darkness in order to not be seen in the bare parts of the estate grounds. On the Szarr estate, it seemed that all the nature and foliage was pushed towards the front of the manor. There were a few trees that outlined the main road and the notoriously lavish gardens towards the front gates, but the back of the manor had more open fields rather than flowers. The only things that seemed to stand out amongst the flat, plain lawn were a few pointed stone ornaments, each only a few feet tall. Wyll crawled his way towards one of them and realized that these were tombstones. He looked around and spotted nearly a dozen around the lawn, all tall, gothic, and grand in their design. Another point for the vampire allegations, Wyll thought in mild amusement. He crouched behind a tombstone for a Madame Tallon as he watched Godey walk the perimeter of the main house.

It looked like he stopped at a cellar door at the back of the manor. The old man opened the doors, then with a grunt, he got the dolly over the ledge and walked it downstairs with a loud clunk for each step the wheels bounced off of. Soon, the old man disappeared underground and the cellar doors closed. Afterwards, there was nothing but silence. As much as Wyll wanted to press further and see if those cellar doors were an entrance to the Tourmaline Depths, he didn’t want to push his luck any further. The fact he made it this close to the manor was already too much. Despite his courage and determination, Wyll was wise enough to know that this was the point of retreat. If he pushed any further and was caught by this Godey or any of the other Szarr staff, he could jeopardize everything before he even knew what he was doing.

Quietly, Wyll crept his way back to the edge of the estate and was relieved to see the hidden door was still open. He quickly made his way out and closed the door as softly as he could, then made his way out of the park and back to the street where he started the evening.

Though it wasn’t much, seeing the actual kidnapping take place helped him gain a clearer picture. The missing people were definitely being taken, though Wyll could only wonder how many people there were out on pickup duties like Godey. Maybe some of the victims were simply taken directly back to the manor, but there was no way for Wyll to know for sure. Not unless he asked more questions or kept going on these stakeouts and saw it for himself. There was no way he realistically could do this again though. At least, not every night. Not if Mizora was to be kept satisfied on her end of his contract. He didn’t even want to think about what she had prepared for him when he got to work in a few hours.

As Wyll reached his car, he felt exhausted. Gods had it been a long night, but it was only just beginning. All he could do now was sit in his thoughts and think of his next move, whatever that may be.

[j4keluver]

is it okay for me to say i love you?

↷boyfriend! jake • reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

⇢˚⋆ ✎ pure fluff for my readers who love some soft moments <3 i’ve been gone for so long since college has kicked my ASS😭 but i’m slowly coming back

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

jake sim never overthought his charm or his flirty ways with girls. he was a natural with women while his best friend, on the other hand, park sunghoon, couldn’t even make eye contact with a girl. sunghoon was busy blasting music in his airpods that were higher than the recommended volume and jake was busy chatting it up with his girl who’s a “friend” ("you don’t just casually make out with someone you call a friend” hoon) that was before he started dating you.

jake had taken a notice in you way before you even glanced his way. park sunghoon had dragged him to the baskeball game since their friend, heeseung, was playing. jake wasn’t a big fan of overcrowded place, more or so, a place that was filled with sweaty teens, painted in bright colors.

but there you were. 

you were part of the cheerleading team. jake mostly avoided the cheerleading team like the plague since they mostly kept to their “own people” and the jocks and only cared about shaking their pompoms obnoxiously in the air but you were different in his eyes.

your radient smile and positive aura caught his eye from the get go. he knew he was attracted to you but he gave up any chance to talk to you, seeing you give the basketball team side hugs and disappearing in the midst to their celebratory dinner.

the next time he saw you, you were putting up new posters for the bulletin board, a job that was the responsibility of the student council club. “a cheerleader and on student council?” he was standing at his locker, admiring you. as you placed a tact on the poster, the rest of the papers had managed to slip out of your grasp. you curse to yourself, trying to hurrily grab them.

without a second thought, jake jumped in to save the day, thinking this would be the only chance to talk to you. but that in fact, was not the last time you guys had talked.

you guys have now been dating for 4 months and park sunghoon is sick and tired of the both of you. correction; jake.

he was happy that jake had found somebody while he struggles to muster up the courage to look in his crushes eyes for more than three seconds (“you know she’s not medusa right? she wont turn you to stone if you look to her too long? “ jake), but he couldn’t take jake’s relationship “problems.” hoon was not fit to be a relationship therapist when he needed to seek an actual therapist.

“do you think it’s too early to say i love you?” jake ask and hoon groans, over exaggerating his actions and bumping his head against the locker.

“jake, you’ve been dating for four months. if you feel like it’s the right time to say i love you, say it. if not, don’t say it. logic,” hoon answers.

“hoon you’re my best friend for a reason. you’re supposed to give me advice cause you know i can’t decide for myself.” jake whines. hoon just shakes his head and walks to his next class, leaving a frustrated jake trailing behind him.

the next date you have, you are cuddling at jake’s dorm , watching a rom com on the TV. your head is on his chest while his arm is around your waist.

“hey y/n” you hum a response of “hmm” but before jake could continue what he was going to say, your phone buzzes.

glancing over the message, your eyes widen before you jump out of you seat and quickly hurrying to the door. flustered, jake follows behind you, questioning your sudden movements before you messily explain your best friends break up story. “i will be back, i just have to pick her up from that jerks house”

you quickly slip your shoes on. you cup jake’s face and give him a chaste kiss before muttering an “i love you” and running out the door.

did he hear you right? did you just say i love you to him? jake is dumbstruck in place with a lovestruck smile on his face. looks like he had nothing to worry about. (“fucking finally. this is why i like y/n more than you, she’s USES LOGIC” hoon)

© belong to j4keluver. do not copy, translate, or repost.