#I have been battling my anxiety for a few days now

[leng-m]

I was really hoping I'd start to feel better by this time and be more active with art/stories, but I'm still very sick. I don't remember ever being as sick in my life as I've been the last three months. That little incident back in February turned out to be only the first domino. Unfortunately the medication I was given for it gave me side-effects that have continued until today, months after I've stopped taking the medicine. And it might continue for the forseeable future, sadly. I really really don't want to admit it, but hoping I'd get better soon had only made me more frustrated with my current state. And I think I'll be a tad better off if I just let go of expectations. I'm still around, still lurking and liking posts, but I don't have much energy to really engage in things right now.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warning: postpartum depression requested by multiple: mama's family

"Where's my baby?!"

You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as you give your aunt a tight lipped smile. "He's due to get up any minute." She sighs, like it's an inconvenience, your mom hot on her heels.

"Hi honey," she says, glancing around your now pristine flat, "how are things?"

"Oh, fine." It's the same thing you've been saying this whole time. I'm fine. I'm good. Everything is great. "Went to the pediatrician the other day, Ry is perfect and healthy." You omit the rest of your news, the sudden reappearance of Simon, the stable, consistent presence in your life, the man who was supporting you in anyway he could.

Even though you absolutely do not want your mom or your aunt to meet him, let alone know about him-

you still kind of wish he was here.

He told you yesterday, regretfully, that he had meetings on base all day today, and you told him your mom and aunt were coming by, but probably wouldn't stay long. It was good, that he wouldn't be around.

Before he left for the night, he made you promise to call if you needed him. Text him to check in. You did as he asked, but didn't hear much. Not a surprise, since he said he wouldn't have a lot of time to respond, but still wanted updates.

"That's great honey." Her smile is genuine, and you know she means it. She does mean well, mostly. It's not her fault you're bad at asking for help, or that since you left home, you've become stubbornly independent. You even spent a few years "gallivanting across the globe" as your sister liked to say, shirking responsibility after uni.

Your family was used to you being a bit of a ghost.

"- don't you think?" Your aunt's voice brings you back to earth, and you nod robotically, unsure of what you're agreeing to. You're about to apologize for missing the conversation when the baby monitor on the kitchen counter lights up, Orion's fussy 'I just woke up mom, come get me' cry crackling from the speaker.

"That's for me." You joke half heartedly with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. You know the battle with ensue as soon as you come back into the living room with the baby, and you dread it.

"Hi baby." You bend at the waist, scooping him out of his crib. "You're gettin' too heavy for mama, big boy. Don't know what I'm gonna do when you're older." The thought stops you in your tracks, the acknowledgement that he'll get older, that soon he'll be six months, and then a year, two. He'll learn to crawl, to walk, to speak. It's exciting, and anxiety inducing. What if you mess him up? What if you don't give him a good life? What if you're not a good mom, or he gets sick, or there's an accident, or an attack or-

No. You're not going to do this. You're not going to fall into these obsessive what ifs. It will only make you sick to your stomach.

You get him into a new nappy and clothes before slinking back into the living room, cowed with your head down. His head turns against your chest, seeking, and you know he's starting to realize he's hungry.

But the vultures don't care.

"Bring that boy over here, let me hold him." Your aunt croons, syrupy sick voice conjuring a roar of nausea.

"He's probably hungry." You start to warn them that this won't last long as you lower him into her arms, but you know it will fall on deaf ears. "So-"

"Just get a bottle from the fridge dear, I can feed him no problem." You fight the urge to to snap at her, unreasonable rage swelling inside your heart. No one feeds him except you, and Simon. Bottles are fine when you're asleep and can't nurse, or between feedings, but he doesn't eat as much from them. Of course, you've tried to tell them that, multiple times, but it never seems to stick. Your mom knows, but she never stands up to her older sister.

Like mother like daughter, you guess. You've never been a doormat per se, but you don't have a strongest backbone, and becoming a mom has changed you, a lot. You've become even more soft, more sensitive. It's... a problem.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You know she's asking mostly about your body, your stitches, your physical aches and pains, which were plenty considering what you went through when Ry was born, but your mom's voice is gentle, like she senses you frustration, and you give her a weak smile. It's nice she's expressing interest, but that's usually as far as it goes, unless you count the meals she's brought over that you barely picked it, not having enough energy to even feed yourself, or shower, or the suggestion that you give her the baby all the time so you could 'take a break' even though he screamed the moment he was separated from you. Not helpful. Nobody cared that you had scary thoughts, scary moments, scary days. Nobody offered to be here at night with you, when you were all alone with the baby after dark, terrified, crying in the bathroom with your face buried in a towel so you wouldn't wake him. No one was here when you were afraid you might hurt him, or yourself, and no one seemed to hear you when you shrugged over and over again, your lack of interest in everything explicitly clear.

You sucked at asking for help, so you didn't. And when you did, you never got it right, or got the right answers, so you stopped asking. Everything became fine. Good.

"Fine, good." She opens her mouth to say something, ask some question, probably about Ry, when your blood goes cold.

The sound of your front door opening rings out like a bang, your eyes widening in panic, and you nearly run to the kitchen.

Oh fuck. Oh no, no no no-

You turn in slow motion to see your baby's daddy, the man who has a key now, stepping through the doorway. As soon as you lay eyes on him, you split down the middle. You're horrified, because of what's about to happen with the two hens on the couch and-

your libido roars to life. Simon's not wearing his usual jeans or joggers and black hoodie, but a camouflage military uniform. One that he fills out, broad shoulders and broad chest fitted snug inside the material. You think you're staring. Or drooling. Or both.

His lips quirk up on one side with a secretive, almost seductive smile, and he peeks over your shoulder before turning his attention back to you. "Hey mama."

"H-hey. Uh. Hi." Your hands uselessly flit around, like you're trying to swat some invisible bugs away or something. "My mom is still here. And my aunt," you can't help yourself, you take him in from head to toe one more time, "you look... nice."

"Price makes me wear my BDU for on base meetings." He grunts, slightly exasperated. Who?

"BDU?"

"Battle dress uniform. It's... the approved, standard uniform. I don't wear it... in the field." His lips press together, and your mind wanders, curious questions about 'the field' popping up like fireworks, but you push them away. Now is definitely not the right time. His thumb brushes your cheek, under your eye, and he frowns. "Everything alright?"

You step to the side, motioning to the living room, where your aunt and mother are whispering fiercely. You roll your shoulders, and take a deep breath. "Do you... want to, say hi?" The question is weak, your voice small. His brow furrows. He looks hesitant, and you don't blame him. They're a lot. It's a lot. He glances down at you again, head tilted in consideration. "Or you could just go. If you ran out that door... well I'd only wish I could come with you." You whisper, and he cracks a smile.

"No. 'm not runnin' from any part of you, sweetheart. C'mon. They can't be worse than..." he trails off, odd look in his eyes before it clears, "they can't be worse than a lot of things."

He follows you around the corner of the kitchen, crossing the threshold of the living room with two large strides.

Your mother gasps. Your aunt makes a sound that you can only describe as a goose being strangled, and Orion starts to cry. Perfect.

"Oh, oh shhh, shhhh." Your aunt tries to soothe him, but you know it won't work.

"Mom," you call over the noise, gesturing to the giant man standing next to your coffee table, and you, "Mom! This is Simon." She stares at you, confused, shocked even. You never told her your one night stand's name, just that you couldn't track him down, so she doesn't make the connection.

Still, she gapes at him. Clears her throat with a question.

"Is this... your boyfriend honey?" Your aunt's expression is not much different, and you freeze. Is he? Is that what this is? You half expect Simon to reject the term boyfriend flat out, but instead-

"Something like that." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you lean into it, relishing the comfort. Just the presence of him in the flat is enough to soothe you, lessen the tension you feel building in your chest. "Sounds like he's hungry, mama."

"Yeah, I think he's more than ready." You reach for Ry, eager to pick him up, but your aunt shifts her body, shying away, turning her shoulder to you. You're used to this, the keep away, the way they always try to convince you he'll calm down, to let them hold him for too long, to get him a bottle... but Simon is not.

He goes rigid at your side. You can feel the muscle in his arm turn to stone, and his eyes narrow, upper lip curling. Your mother's eyes go wide, but your aunt remains oblivious. "I can feed him, dear. Go get a bottle warmed up and-"

"No." Simon snaps, rough pitch of his voice dipping deeper into the manc accent, and she bristles. This bitch wouldn't be scared of the devil himself.

"Excuse me?" You watch the muscle in his jaw flex with fascination, wondering what he'll do next. You're brought back to when you met, when he stared down the guy who pushed you out of the way at the bar like he was going to murder him, before calling you over to settle next to his thigh. He put his hand on your waist, shielded you from everyone else for the rest of the night.

You were a goner before you ever had a chance to begin.

"Orion wants his mother. You can hand him over without a fuss, or I can throw you out of this flat. Your choice." His words are hard, cold steel, a sharp knife slicing away, exposing vulnerable parts and smashing them to pieces.

Your aunt has the gall to look scandalized, but when you glance at your mother, she has a different expression. It's warm. Approving. She mets your eyes with a small smile as you scoop Orion up, and then she stands.

"We'll get out of your hair, honey." She tugs you into a half hug before looking over. "Nice to meet you Simon." Your aunt is ranting and raving all the way to your front door, but once it's shut...

"Bloody hell." He mutters, and shakes his head. "I won't let anyone push you 'round like that, sweetheart. Family or not. Especially not in your own home, I-"

"Thank you." It's all you can say. "I um, kind of suck at sticking up for myself, sometimes. It means a lot, that you would do that. For me." He steps close, hand covering Orion's belly and chest, even though he's still crying.

"Kitten doesn't have any claws," he murmurs against your ear, and your eyebrows knit together. Uh... what? "Don't worry, you won't need 'em. Not now that you have me." There's something dangerous in his tone, something lethal and profound. It’s as fervid as his proclamation about his commitment to you, to Orion. Like dark water, bottomless and black, it draws you out deeper, sends shivers up your spine, but doesn't turn you away. It makes you curious, intrigued, desperate to peel back his layers, to dig into him until you know it all, inside and out.

Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what they say?

You weren't afraid of him that night, and you're not afraid now. You know Simon is not an ordinary man. You know you've bitten off a lot, by having his baby, rekindling this connection, giving him a key-

but you plan to chew.

[kayesfanfics]

Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

[mirkwdmstrss]

by the river’s edge

summary: gil-galad feared the worst in not knowing whether you lived or died in the siege at eregion. upon being reunited, you take him to a clandestine hideaway to help cleanse his body and mind of the horrors he witnessed on the battlefield. with a full heart and clear mind, he asks you something you did not expect

word count: 4.4k

pairing: gil galad x reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff

tags: implied sex, mild blood, nudity

Branches whipped across his face as he blindly pushed through the dense foliage, never minding the sharpened thorns or abrasive barks stinging at his exposed flesh. Such was the nature of this valley, to protect those that sought refuge within its walls. Another might have torn their sword from its sheath and slashed at the maze of vines and tangles of tree limbs, but Gil Galad was not so far yet lost to his fears and anxieties to cause undue harm to the natural world.

You are alive. You are well.

These are the words he’d kept repeating to himself after nearly having lost Galadriel hours earlier. To have lost her would’ve been a blow to him unlike any other. To have lost her while also not yet knowing if you lived or died caused immeasurable fear to shadow his heart; and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the loss of either of you if that was what the Valar had deemed to happen on this day.

Hope. He held to hope. If they had all survived what they had thus far, surely you, and the rest of those trapped in the Siege at Eregion had been able to escape. Galadriel had been unable to speak when he and Elrond had worked tirelessly to stabilize her injuries. He knew in his heart though that she would’ve done her best to help as many as possible escape through the secret tunnels in her pursuit of Sauron, a Lady of Light in the darkest of times. Though he’d intended to stay by the commander’s side, Arondir and Elrond had promised her safe delivery to the valley in which the survivors had been rumored to flee to and encouraged him to go on ahead without them to find you.

And as he drew upon an opening in the thicket all around him, his heart swelled to hear the language of his people. As he broke through trees, their tongues fell silent; stunned to find their high king in such a disheveled state. His eyes rapidly scanned the gathering crowd, though it was not very big to begin with. Had so few made it out? Surely this couldn’t be everyone.

“Where are they?” he asked no one in particular, eyes unable to focus on any one person for too long.

“Who, High King?”

Gil Galad turned at the sound of his title and was surprised to find Vorohil. He was sure he’d died in Eregion after being struck by the enemy's arrows; and though he cradled his left arm close to his chest, he seemed otherwise unharmed save a few cuts and bruises on his face.

He spoke your name and his heart sang upon Vorohil’s face instantly brightening. With his right hand, he pointed toward an outcropping of rocks near a small waterfall. “Just past those boulders, my lord. We’ve established a rudimentary infirmary. They’ve been tending to the wounded night and day. I probably wouldn’t be here to tell you of it had it not been for them.”

Gil Galad parted from him, a brief word of thanks rolling off his tongue as he swept down the hill, never minding the praise and thanks his people extended towards him as he rushed past. This battle was not won by him alone, by the Valar, this battle hadn’t been won at all; but they survived due to the leadership of many, and he would address his people formally once all were present.

For now, all that mattered was you.

As he rounded the mass of boulders, the expanse of land opened up into a dell shadowed by enormous trees and the gentle rush of a number of small brooks flowed freely over smooth stone.

At least a dozen elves, soldiers and civilians alike, were laid out on makeshift beds of grass in various states of health and wellness. Some had suffered broken bones, some penetrating stab wounds. A couple of elf maidens he recognized from Eregion busied themselves over an elf that had suffered an arrow to the shoulder who cried out as they withdrew the shaft and immediately packed the wound with bandages that looked like they’d been made from someone’s cloak. He greeted them and they startled.

“High king,” they greeted in turn with a bow of their heads.

“Please,” he said in dismissal, waving them back towards the injured. “I don’t mean to interrupt. Tell me, where is—”

His voice faltered and a choked sob escaped his lips as you appeared from around a bend in the rock formation.

Gil Galad was upon you in an instant, a breath of air whooshing from your lungs as two strong arms wrapped around your middle, forcing you to drop the basket you’d been holding. Clean linens spilled about your feet as the High held you close against his mud and blood stained chest plate, his large hand cradling your neck and fingers tangling into your hair.

“Thank the Valar you’re alive,” he breathed into your ear.

“Me?” you questioned, pulling back to look into his deep brown eyes as you cupped his cheek in your hand. “From what I heard, you llead a charge with less than two dozen elves at your backing. You’re lucky you made it out with only a scratch.” You ran your thumb along his jaw where a rather nasty cut split the skin of his cheek. “Come, let me tend to you somewhere more private, my lord.”

Gil Galad inclined his head as though he wanted to say more, but then realized all eyes of those that were conscious were currently on the two of you; and though he cared not if they saw him show affection towards you, it was probably the last thing they expected to see at this current moment in time. With a nod of his head, he relented and allowed you to curl your fingers around his and tug him along down a path that curved on between the rocks.

The sun shone overhead, breaking through the boughs of the trees dappling the path in swirls of golden light. Birds chirped in their branches and the sound was so sweet, it nearly puzzled Gil Galad for he’d not heard the birds sing in weeks and wasn’t sure he’d ever hear them again for the carnage of what had transpired in Eregion.

As you wandered down the path, eventually, he could no longer even hear the voices of those back at the stream’s edge.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, craning to look around your frame.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, and he smiled upon finding both adoration and amusement shining back at him in your eyes; a welcome contrast to the horror and fear he’d seen reflected back at him in the eyes of his people as they’d fallen around him in battle.

“Somewhere I can get you cleaned up, would that please the High King?” You asked coyly, batting your lashes at him.

A smile hooked the corners of his lips as your playful tongue expelled the images of war from his mind. Without thinking further of it, he tugged on your hand and with one strong pull of his arm, twirled you around the path so you were flush with his body and had to arch your back in order to gaze up at him, the press of his hand against the small of your waist making you feel more safe and secure than you had in weeks. A moment of silence stretched between you, but only a moment, before you both launched yourselves at one another.

You threw your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up into the air to press his lips against yours. He tasted like blood and sweat, but you didn’t care because he was there and he was alive. He moaned into your mouth as he squeezed you tightly and you laughed against his lips, feeling joy for the first time since you couldn’t even remember.

Pressing your hands against his shoulders in a gentle signal to let you down, you kissed the corner of his mouth. “There will be plenty of time for that later, let’s get you cleaned up. In the coming days, we’ll have little time together with all the responsibility that will fall to you. You’ll need to look a little bit more presentable for your people.”

Gil Galad arched a brow in response as he placed your feet back on the ground. “Are you saying I don’t look presentable right now?”

You smirked in response, giving him a once over. “I suppose you could stay dressed in that.” A wicked glint entered your gaze. “Or you could allow me to help bathe and dress you in a fresh set of clothes. Your armor has seen better days, after all.”

Gil Galad nodded his head slowly, an eagerness in his eyes you’d not seen in ages. “It has, hasn’t it?”

You murmured your assent and led him off path through a break in the dense foliage where a clear blue waterfall gushed into a wide pebbled pool beneath. Wide rocks poked out of the water, bathed in sunlight. Oaks and other trees grew tall, curving toward the sky in beautiful arches. The surrounding mountain of the valley and thick brush encircling the space kept it hidden from those just following the path, so there would be plenty of privacy here.

“How did you find this place?” Gil Galad asked as his eyes looked about in wonder. Vines of wisteria crawled along the canopy, filling the space with a sweet and delicate scent.

“I was searching for herbs to use in poultices and salves for the injured.” You gestured towards the sandy bank where a number of small baskets were packed full with various herbs and plants. Beside that was a larger basket you’d used to wash linens, a number of which were stretched out to dry on the sun drenched rocks.

A knowing look entered the depths of his brown eyes. “Very far to wander on one’s own, don’t you think?”

You squeezed his hand as you continued to lead him down towards the falls, “We can always go back.”

“No, no,” he replied. “This will do just fine.”

“Good,” you said softly, backing up towards the water’s edge, your feet sinking just so into the smooth sand surrounding the pool. With a delicate hand, and without breaking eye contact with him, you curled your palm around his wrist, undoing the straps of one gauntlet before following suit and removing the other. You tossed them onto the sand and followed the length of his torso, seeking out and undoing the latches of the chest plate along his sides and those holding it in place over his shoulders. Gil Galad breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled it over his head and let it fall away, not minding how it hit the sand with a firm thunk. Finally, your fingers found and made quick work of the buckles holding his pauldrons in place.

Fire danced in the depths of his deep brown eyes as you took a measured step towards him and reached for the belt at his waist, holding his long sword tight to his hip. His fingers folded over yours, threading through them to undo the buckle. He gripped his sword as the belt from around his waist and dug his weapon into the earth with one powerful thrust of his arm. You swallowed thickly and felt your heart hammer a steady beat against your ribcage as you dared to gather the fabric of his tunic into your hands.

“Go on, then,” he said, voice low. Your fingers skimmed the trail of dark hair beneath his navel as you pushed the fabric of his shirt up and over his shoulders, allowing him to tug the remainder over his head and cast it aside in a ripple of golden fabric. He shook out his hair and it fell across his broad shoulders in deep brown waves.

When he took a step closer to you, closing what little distance remained between the two of you, every muscle in your belly clenched with heat. “Are you just going to watch me bathe?” he asked softly. “Or shall you join me?”

“Whatever my king prefers,” you answered with a small bow of your head. Your breath hitched in your throat when his fingers gripped your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to look at his. “What have I told you about calling me by my name?”

A blush coated your cheeks as a shy smile played about your lips. “Years now, we’ve spent together, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way your name rolls off the tongue.”

Gil Galad dropped his fingers from your chin to fall upon the bare skin of your shoulder. As he curled his fingers around the back of your neck to make quick work of the knot holding your simple halter shift dress in place, his lips brushed the shell of your pointed ear. “Perhaps, we can see how it rolls off the tongue whilst mine lavishes the body it belongs to.”

“Bite your tongue,” you scolded playfully.

“If you ask nicely,” he purred, tugging the knot free and with it, your dress fell in a pile of fabric around your ankles.

Your nipples immediately peaked in response to the gentle breeze of the warm summer day; the sun on your back instantly warming you through to your core. As you toed out of your sandals, you stepped forward to reach for the ties on his trousers. His hands curved over your hips and you gasped as he grabbed your backside firmly in his palms causing you to fumble the laces. When you finally managed to pull them loose, you watched as he kicked out of his boots to shimmy them off, casting them aside and leaving him completely nude before you save for his ring, Vilya, whose ruby glittered in the sun.

You found yourself unable to look away from him, bared like this to you in the open air; and you to him. There was as much beauty in it as there was vulnerability and you craved him now more than ever.

Before you could place a hand on him, he lunged towards you. A squeal escaped your lips as he tackled you into the pool; arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he turned his body to take the brunt of the impact with the water’s surface. The water was cold, yet refreshing, and you both spluttered and laughed as you kicked yourselves upright. You reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and rubbed your finger along the dried blood on his cheek.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” you murmured as your laughter fell away.

Gil Galad turned his head to place a gentle kiss upon your thumb which lingered there. “When I have something so important to come back to, I do everything in my power to make it so.”

“This is but a lull in the storm,” you ventured, fear lacing your words.

His eyes flashed with concern, irises flickering as he searched for solace in yours. “Do not trouble yourself with such dark thoughts, not when I have found strength in your gentle arms.” He folded himself around you then, fingers splayed against your back as he buried his nose into your hair.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the touch of his strong and gentle caress. “I want to show you something,” you whispered in his ear, causing him to pull back and regard you with bemused curiosity.

Releasing his hand, you took slow, measured steps back. Fortunately, you’d had plenty of time to explore this place in the days since you’d taken refuge in the valley. The roar of the falls grew louder as you backed up closer and closer to it. A devious grin pulled at your lips as you took a breath and held it before stepping back through the curtain of water into the secret cavern behind it.

You waded back and swam in a slow circle, taking in the smooth rounded out walls that tapered up high towards an opening in the ceiling overhead. The sun cut across the top, reflecting off the walls in shimmering silver and golden light that danced along the cavern walls.

Gil Galad appeared then, swiping a hand over his face to smooth his hair back. His lips parted as awe struck him, head tilting back to admire the clandestine space.

“Ulmo must be fond of you to have revealed such a place,” he breathed, completely wonderstruck as he turned to admire the expanse of smooth flat stones that made up the perimeter of the space, dipping and forming alcoves where one could sit or out of the water. He could picture you now, stretched out across one while the water lapped at your flesh and he lapped at your—

“The vines that grow down through the opening in the cavern are soapwort.”

“Soapwort,” Gil Galad repeated, mind returning to a more appropriate topic.

You nodded, swimming over to one of the vines curling down the wall and plucking a flower from it. You rolled the petals between your hands until a gentle lather foamed between your palms. You plucked a handful and made your way over to a cluster of smooth rocks. After taking a seat on one that resided just beneath the water's surface, you waved Gil Galad over to join you.

You set the flowers on a dry portion of rock sticking out of the water and placed your hands on his chest when he drew near, pressing down in a quiet order to sit. When he did, you smoothed his hair back over his shoulders. After breaking down the herbs in hand, you massaged the lather into his hair, kneading his scalp with your fingers as you did so.

The murmurs of satisfaction that left the High King’s lips brought a knowing smile to your own. So often he busied himself with the kingdom, as was his duty, that he never took true time for himself. If you could offer him but a moment’s respite from the horrors he’d seen befall your people, then that would be enough. After rinsing the sweat and dirt from his hair, you shifted your attention to clean the marks of battle from his flesh. Gil Galad winced as you worked the herb’s lather into the cut on his cheek, but you only smiled.

“I will not see the High King of Lindon felled by infection if you don’t let me clean this and keep squirming like that.”

“It’s not a pleasant feeling,” Gil Galad quipped, though his eyes betrayed his amusement.

You only smirked in response and continued to wash the memory of the siege from his flesh, gently guiding your fingers over every inch of his skin; not missing the way his cock twitched several times in response to your heated touch.

As you turned to pluck more soapwort from the vine for yourself, Gil Galad’s hulking silhouette shadowed yours as he reached an arm above your head to pick several blossoms just out of reach.

“Allow me,” he offered, voice rumbling: and as he sat down on one of the partly submerged rocks, he looped an arm around your waist to pull you down into his lap. “I doubt you’ve paused to pay any heed to your own needs.” He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against the crook of his neck as your spine laid flush with his torso. “Let the carer be cared for in turn.”

He tended to you then with as gentle a hand as you had shown him and when his hands swept across your chest and torso, you couldn’t fight the way you arched into the wide plane of his body.

“Do you like it when I touch you there?” he murmured in your ear.

You nodded as his hand curved around your belly, fingers creeping ever lower. “And what if I were to touch you elsewhere?”

“I think I’d like that very much,” you breathed, voice raspy.

Gil Galad hoisted you into his arms then eliciting a delighted shriek from you as you threw your arms around his neck to keep from falling back into the water.

“Then allow me to treat you like the royalty you’ll one day be at my side.”

•••

Gil Galad rolled off of you and onto his back beside you, both of your chests heaving with labored breaths after the love you’d just made on the shores of the falls left you fully spent and sated. You turned on your side to face him, dragging a finger along the fine layer of hair covering the expanse of his chest. He reached an arm across your back to pull the edge of the cloak you laid upon up and over your lower bodies to provide some protection from the sun beaming overhead, though he marveled at the way its light danced along your bare skin.

When the silk had settled over you, he stretched one arm behind his head to look upon you better and with the opposite, reached forward to stroke the skin of your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Your skin is flushed,” he murmured, a tender smile playing on his pink lips.

A laugh tumbled from your throat as you regarded him keenly, “And who’s to blame for that, I wonder?”

“If worshiping your body is wrong,” Gil Galad mused as he leaned forward to nip at your chest, which was already littered with purple-blue marks from the way he’d suckled your skin. “Let me never be right. Place all blame on me and judge me guilty.”

His eyes glittered in the afternoon sun and you saw the promise of his words reflected back at you in them. You pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips and moaned into his open mouth as his arm tightened around your back, as if he could bring you closer together than you already were.

“Never doubt the love I have for you,” he breathed as he touched his forehead to yours. “In these dark times, it is the light that guides me through each peril; the star that will always lead me home to you.”

“How could I ever doubt that which you make so clear to me in every word you speak and every gentle touch you place upon my skin?”

“Then let me declare it to all who dwell in our kingdom,” he said resolutely, eyes brightening.

A huff of laughter tumbled from your lips at the sudden excitement gleaming in his eyes.

“Wed me.”

Your smile faltered as you searched his features for a sign that he was joking, but all you found was determination. “What?” was all you could manage to stammer out.

His smile widened as he propped himself up on one elbow, his dark hair falling in a curtain across his shoulder as he smoothed an arm down your bicep.

“Let us be wed,” he repeated. “In this place, in this valley. Let the first act in defiance of the spreading darkness be one of love. Marry me.”

Tears brimmed along your lashes as he withdrew the ring adorning his pinky finger and held it before you. Sunlight reflected off the thin gold band and the sapphire adorning it gleamed brightly in the afternoon rays.

“When the time came, I thought—” his voice caught in his throat. He pressed his lips together as he looked down at the ring, a deep sadness entering his gaze. “I thought I might have Lord Celebrimbor craft you a ring fit for a royal of our realm, but now…” A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and you watched as it slid down his cheek. He ran his finger along the smooth gold and held it tightly. You cupped his cheek in your hand, wiping the tear away with your thumb and he leaned into your palm, finding solace in the warmth of your touch. With a deep breath, he continued. “This was the last ring he’d made for me before crafting the Three and I know he’d be honored by my asking you to wear it for all our lives and with it, bind yourself to me and me to you.”

He gazed up at you then from beneath his lashes, eyes sad yet hopeful. “I come before you now, not as a King, but as a lover; as your partner, your equal in every way.” His brow rose as an almost shy smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Say yes and I’ll spend the rest of my immortal life loving you with all that I am.”

You bit down on your lip, eyes flickering between his and the ring he held before you.

“Yes,” you whispered, lips trembling as you smiled and threw your arms around him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he fell back against the sandy bank. You pressed your lips against his and murmured the word again and again. “In this lifetime and every henceforth.”

Gil Galad pushed himself upright into a sitting position, and you with him. You turned in his lap so that you were facing him and wrapped your legs around his waist. The High King took your left hand in his and you splayed your fingers so he could slip the ring onto your finger.. “It fits you better than it did me,” he mused with a soft smile on his lips.

You held your hand up to the light where you could both admire its beauty. “The Lord of Eregion truly was the greatest of Elven smiths. I should’ve liked to have told him that.”

“One day,” Gil Galad said as he took hold of your hand in his. “When our time to sail comes, he’ll be there to greet us on silver shores and we can rejoice in the sorrows and joys of our lives, including this moment; which I know will forever remain my singular and most treasured.”

And as the sun parted between the trees once more, the wind gently stirring their green and golden boughs; you could see forever staring back at you in the eyes of the High King alongside a firm hope for a brighter tomorrow at his side.

[bella-goths-wife]

Kiss the barrel of my gun softly: chapter one

Sevika x reader

Warnings for this chapter: violence, gun and knife usage, drinking, gambling mentions, womaniser Sevika, a little bit ooc sevika but I tried I swear, mentions of sex, mentions of prostitution

The streets surrounding the Last Drop were as busy as usual as Sevika and her men walked calmly along on their way for yet another meeting revolving around how to clean up Jinx’s new mess up. All of them dragging their feet in the process of doing so. 

The markets were alive and thriving with various different creatures running around to steal, sample or buy. The one thing the crowd did do in unison however, was separating and dispersing to make a clear path for the terrifying group. All their eyes trained on the leader of the group with fearful yet respectful expressions, knowing that treating Silco’s second in command with anything but was nothing short of a death sentence. 

Sevika enjoyed this, she liked it even. The respect she was given wherever she went was nothing short of thrilling, knowing she had earned it alongside their fear gave her a feeling that working with Vander never could. So she walks with pride along the newly opened path and tries to ignore the way her men slobber and gloat behind her. 

All's going well until she spots it, until she spots you.

You were rarely spotted in public these days, keeping yourself locked away from undercity society seemed to appeal to you nowadays. You stood there in that familiar black dress and cloak, the one that showed enough of your tempting flesh without exposing your weak points. The dress that showed enough of your figure with your cloak to hide any weapons, the dress that once represented your grief but now represents your power.

You stood there looking beautiful under the lighting of the marketplace, you stood there looking calmly at the woman you were currently attempting to purchase some kind of liquid in a glass bottle from. You stood….

You stood directly in the way of Sevika and her group.

You seemed chillingly calm as you turned your head to notice them, having to be made aware by the muscular red headed woman by the side of you that you had brought along with you for protection reasons presumably.

Your eyes narrowed as your head turned and you made eye contact with sevika, your serenely calm expression changing almost noticeably to one of contempt. The twitch of your eye and the slight snarl of your lips are only noticeable to sevika, having learned all your microexpressions from your past encounters.

You simply quirked a brow at the sight of the group and the situation you had found yourself in, but still choosing to not move out of their way. You stand there still a few feet in front of sevika and her group without a spec of fear or respect in your gaze. The onlookers looked at you with looks of anxiety, knowing that anyone else in your position would usually be shot down or beaten without a second thought, especially given the bad blood that ran between you and Silco.

Sevika could feel her men getting antsy at the sight of your clear disrespect towards them, looking at you with faces of anger and disbelief. Still, your eyes remained trained on Sevika and hers kept on yours. 

Sevika battled internally with how to respond to your disrespect, you seemingly doing the same as you both stood still as statues with gazes locked in a heated battle of wills.

Sevika’s men make the first move, one of the skinner ones darted forward with the clear intent to slay you down as his hand grips the handle of his knife. The muscular red headed woman next to you acted in kind as she also moved forward with her hand grabbing the gun that had been strapped to her thigh.

You both stopped the attacks in action. Sevika gripped the collar of the skinny man's shirt and threw him back into her small group huddled behind her while you simply raised your fist and the woman beside you halted and lowered her gun. The skinny man rubbed his bumped head and glared at Sevika while the muscular woman nodded and slotted the gun back into the holdster on her thigh. 

Sevika stared at you while you stared at her before suddenly you were walking towards her, until with a blink of an eye you and the red headed woman had passed the group with barely an inch between you, you exchanged one more cold look to sevika before you had passed her fully. The onlookers let out sighs of relief, knowing that they had missed what could have been a bloodbath.

“What the hell boss?!” the skinny man exclaims as the group continues to walk, trying to figure out their bosses intent “why’d you stop me?”

Sevika turns and gives the man a deadly glare, towering over the skinny man with a snarl on her scarred lips

“You never attack without my command!” Sevika barks out fiercely “understand me?”

“But she was disrespecting us” The skinny man grunted out, although with much less conviction than before when his intimidating boss wasn't burning holes into his head with her glare “we could have taken her out!”

Sevika’s glare harshens at his words and her body seems to become more tense as her mechanical hand reaches out and digs into the front of his shirt and drags him close enough so that he was looking directly into her angered.

“I don’t care if she was spitting directly into your fucking face, you never attack unless i give the command” Sevika snarls out, droplets of her sit landing on the skinny mans face because of her harsh volume and tone “we ain’t here to start fights over petty shit like that, especially with someone with that amount of influence around here, you understand me?”

The skinny man quickly nods his head, knowing he'd severely overstepped his station by questioning her and sorely regretting it. Sevika only grumbled as she threw him back into the group behind her before turning back around and continuing to walk.

“I just don’t understand why she gets a free pass” The man mumbles out with a sulking expression despite the warning looks from the other members of the group gave him “what makes her so special?”

Sevika simply lets out a sigh and continues walking the route to the last drop, not even sparing the man a look over her shoulder.

“Madame obsidian and Silco already have bad blood between them, we can’t afford to make it worse over something petty” Sevika explains stoically as she aggressively rams her shoulder against any onlookers who got in her way, desperate to cover up her previous weakness that they had witnessed “The Madame has too much influence for us to do that currently”

“How much influence can a brothel owner have?” The man scoffs out in disbelief.

“You’d be surprised” sevika grumbles out with a grim expression.

Sevika tunes out the rest of the group's rants and conversations for the rest of the journey. Her mind wandered back to you, the cold look you gave her as you passed. Your eyes, god how they’d changed so radically. What they once held of warmth and curiosity had now disappeared and left nothing but a hollow calmness and cold contempt.

It's true, Sevika enjoyed the respect she received, although sometimes she regrets what she had to give up in order to maintain it.

Your eyes looked so different from the night you had first met.

——————————-past———————————

It had been a great night for sevika.

She’d successfully overseen a large amount of shimmer making its way into Piltover, meaning Silco had a hefty bag of gold coins waiting for her on his desk when she returned. She’d decided to spend it on her usual vices as she made her way to one of the rundown bars near to her apartment, somewhere she could wind down away from the drama of The Last Drop.

She’d drunk whiskey neat and gambled the night away, cheating her way into winning most of her games. This, mixed with her sore winner attitude, made it so her opponents left in a huff as they’d slam their cards down and refuse to play with her anymore.

This made her consider packing the cards up, settling her tab at the bar and going to babbettes to pick some sweet looking girl to release her excessive energy onto. But something stopped her as she approached the bar to pay her tab.

She spotted you sitting at the bar, sipping some kind of sickly sweet looking concoction. Your dark clothing was dirty and ripped but that did nothing to distract from your lustrous figure and obvious beauty beneath the messed up hair and exhaustion. 

“Don’t you think it's a little dangerous for someone like you to be out here alone?” sevika asks stoically as she sits on the bar stool beside you “especially at night”

You don’t even look at her as you sip your drink before opening your mouth to respond.

“That a threat or an offer?” you ask calmly with a raised brow as you turn to face her

“Your choice” sevika offers stoically as she leans back in her seat to observe you, locking eyes with you

She eyes you with barely concealed lust, eyes obviously trailing from your muddy boots all the way up to your eyes. She notices a considerable amount of curiosity within them that lingers as you watch her trail your body.

“I’ll take offer” you say as your head tilts slightly in curiosity, similar to a puppy dogs, Sevika remarks to herself internally “I’ve had enough threats for one night”

Sevika’s face becomes slightly smug at your acceptance before signaling to the bartender for two of the same drinks.

“What are you doing drinking alone?” Sevika asks as she turns her attention back to you before eyeing your dirty torn clothing “on the run or something?”

“It's the undercity” you point out calmly as you sip your fresh drink “everyone’s running from something down here”

“That's vague” Sevika states somewhat suspiciously “trying to keep yourself a mystery or something?”

“It's not exactly smart to make yourself known to Silco’s right hand woman, now is it?” you point out with a raised brow and narrowed eyes

Sevika is slightly surprised at your correct observation, having it not exactly been public information where Sevika’s place was within Silco’s scheme at the moment. So having you guess it so quickly was certainly intriguing and almost suspicious.

“Clocked it when I heard your voice, you and your boss have had a few meetings at Madame Emerald’s brothel” you explain calmly when noticing her surprised look “you talk loudly in meetings”

“You're one of Emeralds girls?” Sevika asks, slightly confused on why she hadn't seen you working the floor on one of her various visits.

“I’m the Madame’s assistant” you answer calmly as you sip your sweet drink.

Sevika eyes your messy and dishevelled appearance before huffing out a slightly mocking laugh.

“You must be one of the madame’s favourites” Sevika assumes as she sips her whiskey, the implication thick in the air between the two of you.

“It isn't what your thinking” you clarify with a slight scoff “I don’t do brothel work”

“That so?” sevika says with a mocking tone “Then what do you do?”

“I told you” you point out calmly “i’m an assistant”

“Assistants a bit vague, don’t you think?” Sevika asks with a scoff

“So ask so i can clarify” you say in a challenging manner, a manner that would usually have sevika choking out anyone else who used it.

“Go ahead” Sevika says with a scoff and a challenging tone that rivalled your own “what do you do as her assistant”

You smirk at this as you place your empty glass on the bar and you lean forward slightly 

“I assist Madame Emerald with day to day tasks as well as meetings, business ventures, money handling” you list off calmly as you eye her curiously

“So basically you're her second in command?” sevika asks with a raised brow and an almost condescending tone “might as well be running the damn empire”

“Isn’t that what you do for Silco?” you fire back in a way that has Sevika questioning if your flirting back or if you're genuinely trying to pick a fight with her.

“Suppose so” Sevika states as her eyes narrow slightly and her tone becomes mocking “don’t think Silco would like that comparison though, considering old emerald isn’t particularly good at anything besides playing with the hearts of desperate men”

“Madame Emerald is smarter than this place gives her credit for” you shoot back defensively with a firm tone, your brows furrowing in a way that sevika finds just delightful

The bartender comes over to collect the empty glasses and you reach into your pocket to pull out a few coins for payment, only to have sevika slap your hand away before instructing the bartender to put it on her tab. This causes you to raise your brow at her.

“What exactly are you aiming for out of this conversation?” you ask bluntly as you put your coins away, becoming all too aware of the situation.

“What makes you think I'm aiming for something?” Sevika replies with an amused tone 

“Because you don't even know my name, yet your sat here talking to me and buying me drinks” you point out with a suspicious tone and narrowed eyes “no one does that in the undercity without wanting something”

Sevika lets out a breathy chuckle at your accusation before grabbing one of her cigarettes from her pocket and lighting it up.

“I think you know exactly what I want from you” Sevika states with a smug tone, blowing smoke gently in your face

“You seem pretty confident in how you think the nights gonna end” you scoff out 

“sweetheart , i don't think” Sevika says smugly “i know how tonights gonna end”

This elicits an irritated reaction from you as you let out a scoff before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you” you state bluntly with a firm tone as you lean away from her, temporarily breaking the intense eye contact the two of you had been sharing

“What makes you so sure?” Sevika asks smugly

“Madame Emerald and Silco are business rivals and have a very intense hatred of each other” you point out with an obvious tone “sleeping with her assistant doesn't make you look particularly loyal”

Sevika bristles slightly at your words, always finding it extremely uncomfortable whenever her loyalty was called into question, especially after the Vander incident. She brushes those feelings away quickly with a mocking chuckle.

“Not gonna say that hasn't crossed my mind, but Silco doesnt tell me who i can and can’t fuck” sevika states smugly as she leans in slightly “so your free game in my mind, sweetheart”

“____” you state your name as you stand from the bar stool, correcting her on her pet name “my name, not sweetheart”

“Leaving so soon?” Sevika almost sounds disappointed as you get ready to leave, tipping the rest of her drink down her throat

“You’ll see me around” you state in a way that almost sounds like a promise as you make your way out of the bar, the interaction forcing a small, bashful smile  onto your lips.

Sevika sports her own grin at your words as she lets out an amused huff before slamming some coins down on the bar to pay her tab and getting up to leave.

——————————-present—————————-

Sevika shakes her head to rid her thoughts of you with a grumble and clenched fists as she approaches the Last Drop with the intention to get the work done and go home to drown her sorrows in some kind of bottle, hoping slightly that silco wouldn’t hear of your clear sign of disrespect. She can’t keep protecting you from his and his men’s wraith if you didn’t try and at least act civil with them.

Then again, after all they’d done, she’s not sure she’d act civil either.

Her mind thinks of the girl she had met in that bar, the one she’d determinedly pursued and the one who shut her attempts down but in a way that only made her want you more.

She thinks of the woman who you were now, cold and calculating with anger and sorrow behind every action.

How times had changed for the two or you.

Chapter two here

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

FTM!Wanderer x Reader

Unexpected treats are the best kind of treats~

Wanderer x Reader

Contents: ftm!wanderer, eating out, fingering, wanderers god complex comes out.

Summary: Reader and wanderer are getting frisky but reader realises that something is not quite right and investigates (with their mouth)

Authors note: I've been a trans scara truther since day 1 and cannot handle the lack of content for my boy. Like, damn. Can a bitch not eat any boy pussy around here.

It was often that Wanderer and (Y/n) would meet up like this, now. Whether it be in an old storage closet or an empty office - they'd always end up in the same position. (Y/n) kneeling on the floor between Wanderer's legs, worshipping him in his most intimate places.

They could still remember the first time it happened.

(Y/n) and the famed Wanderer had always had this thing going on between them. They'd bicker constantly. It was almost an unspoken competition on who could annoy the other first.

This time, they were stuck together in the empty academia library. Sticking the new order of books on the shelves. It was late on a Friday, and all the academia students were out for the weekend. Yet the library was anything but silent.

"Will you shut up and do your job, unsightly worm." Wanderer snarked, purposely hitting (Y/n) in the face with his long sleeves as he flew past to place the next stack of books.

(Y/n) snorted.

"Y'know, for someone so short you do have a large temper," (y/n) smirked - they knew the subject of height was touchy for her coworker, "It's truly impressive how you fit all of it in one body... along with your huge ego."

Wanderer flew past again, shoving into them once again.

"It's a wonder how you keep that ugly, fat head of yours on your shoulders." The temperament blue boy sniped back, this time staying next to (Y/n) to stack books on the shelf beside them.

"Wow is that really the best you've got." (Y/n) faced him, crossing their arms over their chest.

Wanderer's perfect lips curled into a scowl.

"I have nothing else to say to pathetic losers like you."

(Y/n)'s face soured, "HEY. Don't. Be. Such. An. Asshole." They poked at Wanderer's chest between every word.

The Wanderer bared his teeth at them, roughly slapping away their hand.

The pair stopped and stared each other down like a pair of feral dogs. The tension was thick.

(Y/n) struck again, poking Wanderer's hard chest with more force.

Wanderer repeated his previous action.

They repeat a few more times, each action getting rougher, until they eventually escalate to shoving each other around the library.

(Y/n) gasped as their back hit the shelve, their chest heaving. Their hands still gripping tightly at the front of her assailants' clothes.

Wanderer glared deeply into (Y/n)'s eyes. The tension thick enough to cut with a claymore.

(Y/n) once again made the first move, roughly pulling the shorter man in and kissing him. The response was immediate. Quickly becoming another battle for dominance between them.

All the months of built-up frustration between them finally being released.

(Y/n) bucked their hips into his. Their tongues and teeth clashing together. Neither of them seemed to care though. Wanderer's delicate hands gripped (Y/n)'s waist, matching the rhythm of their hips.

They continued like this for a while, their hands groping and fondling each other, until finally (Y/n)'s hand trailed down to his crotch.

Their hand fumbled around the front of his pants, feeling around for the expected hardness. Only to realise they couldn't find it. (Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, still not breaking the kiss.

Is he not into it? They stressed in their mind.

Wanderer broke the kiss, his lips moving down (Y/n)'s neck, where he nipped and sucked. The recipient moved their neck, giving him more room for him, moaning at his actions.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered at the feeling, their anxiety washing away. He wouldn't be this into it if he didn't want me, right? Maybe his pants are too thick. They resumed fumbling with his pants, their hands unbuttoning them and weaseling in, continuing to rub around.

The man groaned into their neck, humping the hand between his legs. He was not used to this feeling.

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, continuing to search his pants for something that was apparently not there.

He's gotta be into it? Maybe he's just small-- Their finger made contact with the wet patch in his underwear. Oh.

OHHH.

It finally clicked.

They knew what they had to do now.

(Y/n)'s free hand came up and pulled the blue haired man away from their neck and resumed their kissing. Carefully navigating him backwards until he hit a desk.

Wanderer grunted at the movement.

(Y/n) pulled their other hand out of his pants and worked on pulling them down. Once his pants were down they moved back to look Wanderer in the eyes. The mans eyes snapped open and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Is this alri-" (Y/n) was cut off.

"Did I say stop, worm." The blue haired brat snarked.

(Y/n) blinked. "I wanted to ask can I-" They were cut off again.

"Yes. Now hurry up." Wanderer gripped the back of (Y/n)'s hair and brought them back into an impatient kiss.

Damn bitch, okay. (Y/n) mentally rolled their eyes at his behaviour. What did they expect. They pull away from his soft lips and start kissing down his neck. Making their way down to the waistline of his breifs.

Wanderer looks down at (Y/n) kneeling between his legs and he swears his nonexistent heart started thumping. He felt like he was being worshipped. Like a god.

(Y/n) stared deeply into Wanderers eyes, their fingers curling into the waistband of his underwear, before pulling them down. Exposing him.

The mans eyes widened in surprise and a ferocious blush bled onto his cheeks. His mechanical pump working overtime to push blood around his body.

"Wh- what the hell are you-" Wanderer was cut off abruptly and gasped.

(Y/n)'s tongue delved deeply into the wet heat between his legs. Groaning loudly at the taste. Their nose buried in the neat tuft of blue hair above his slit.

Wanderer's legs almost give out, causing him to prop hiself onto the table. (Y/n) took the opportunity to hike one of his legs over their shoulder, spreading him wider.

(Y/n) ate him out like it was their last meal, savouring every flick of their tongue. Their hand gripping the leg on their shoulder. Their free hand trailing up and sliding into Wanderers weeping hole.

Wanderer's hand flew up and gripped (Y/n)'s hair, his head falling back. His thighs trembled around their head. He had definitely never felt anything like this before. He felt like his artificial nerves were on fire.

A broken noise came from his throat.

(Y/n) sped their fingers up, curling them and latched onto his clit, suckling on it. The thighs around their head shook violently ans the fingers against their scalp tightened.

Wanderer felt something inside him tighten, then break. He let out an almost primal noise as he gripped (Y/n)'s head with both hands, holding them tighter against him as he rode their face.

(Y/n) let him ride out his orgasm on their face, his juices dripping down their chin and hand. It had a slight buzz to it, tingling on their tongue. It was addictive. They pulled their fingers out of Wanderer and gave him one last lick before standing up and taking his head onto their shoulder.

Wanderer leant his weight onto (Y/n) as he came back to his senses. They stayed like that for a few minutes before he sat back up and stared deeply into (Y/n)'s eyes, a lazy smirk rising on his face.

"Again."

Extra:

"EH?! WHERE DID THIS STORM COME FROM?! HURRY UP AND GET MY KEYS OUT ALHAITHAM MY HAIR IS GONNA BE RUINED!"

Me trying to convince you all that wanderer is trans.

[lunajay33]

My Angel🔥

Summary: y/n always wanted a family, so when she finds out she’s pregnant during the worst time during the lead up to the war, everything she’s ever felt has changed

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x f!reader

•Masterlist•

The war was coming, every court was on edge seeing my family in distress, Rhys is an amazing brother but having to carry the court on his shoulders was always a lot for him and now having a mate to worry about too was just the cherry on the top of it all, but now with the threat Eris liked to keep me close, too worried about what could happen and if anyone would use me against him and I understand

When we became mates years ago it changed my world, my family wasn’t thrilled but over time they came around realizing he would never hurt me and that his persona was only that, a persona he had to put up to other to protect himself

He’s my heart, soul and mind and it kills me to see the stress and worry weigh on him and seeing his mother today only made my own worries worsen

As I sat with her in the library Eris’ guard dogs wandered over to me laying their heads on my lap, growling at any person that would get to close to me, I didn’t think much of it until Eris’ mother pointed out why they were being so protective, because their masters wife is pregnant, how they knew I’ll never know but when she said those words my heart clenched

The day dragged on slowly as I paced in mine and Eris’ room just waiting for him to come home from a meeting with the dawn court, I’ve always wanted a baby to have a little family of my own but it wasn’t really the best of times and what if it was too much for Eris

“Oh mother above what am I gonna do” I sigh not noticing Eris walk in until I feel his warmth right behind me and his arms wrap around me

“What’s got you so worried my love?” He whispered in my ear sending shivers down my spine as I relaxed into his chest

“Just been a crazy day I need to tell you something”

“First u have a surprise for you” he said turning me around and pulling a box out of his pocket handing it over

Opening it it’s a gold necklace embedded with red rubies

“Eris this is beautiful but what’s the occasion?” I ask as he helps put the necklace on around my neck

“Well it’s the best for the my most beautiful mate who’s carrying my child” my heart jumped

“What? You knew?” I ask nervously turning back to him squeezing his hands

“Of course your scent changed a few days ago, you’re my mate I notice every little change” he smiles as his warm hands grip my hips

“But you’re not mad? Aren’t you scared with the war coming”

“Of course I’m scared but between me and Rhysand nothing will harm you I promise my little deer”

“You promise no matter what you’ll come back to me, that you won’t risk yourself during the battle”

“I promise, I’ll come back”

The day started off pretty low, as I helped Eris get dressed in his armour for the war starting today the past months of being pregnant he’s been so sweet and protective only making me love him more the inner circle always visited excited to have a baby apart of the family seeing as I’m the first to get pregnant

“I love you Eris, come back to us my love”

“I’m doing this for the both of you for a better future, I’ll be back my deer and my little fawn” he places a kiss to my lips then my belly before he left

The day dragged by slowly the castle filled with anxiety and worry, sitting with his mother helped a bit but nothing could stop me from think of Eris, if he was gonna come back

I ran my hand up and down my big bump on of the dogs pressing its snout to my belly huffing out a breath of excitement

“I think they love you more than Eris”

“Don’t tell him that he’ll freak out” I laughed before a pressure popped then my dress was wet, I look up at her with fear

“It’s happened dear come on let’s get you ready” she brought me to the healers and got the bed comfortable and ready

“I’m not ready not without Eris……I’m scared”

“You’ll be okay honey, think of how happy he’ll be when he gets home, do this for your baby, be strong dear”

After an hour of excruciating pain I finally hear the gentle cry of my baby girl, holding her against my chest she was just like Eris, fiery red hair with the cutest nose

“She’s perfect” I look to the doorway to see Eris standing there covered in dirt and blood but right now that didn’t matter

“You’re back” I smile exhausted

“I told you I would be”

“She’s beautiful, you’re so strong my love I’m sorry I wasn’t here”

“You’re here now with us that’s all I care about”

He leaned next to me watching our little girl sleep

“Ember that’s what we should call her”

“It’s perfect, this is perfect”

And suddenly everything was okay in our world again

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Her Words

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction and the backlash from your family |  Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: You all asked for a part 2 so ask and you shall receive! Again thank you for the request on this one it was really fun to write :)

Warnings: hitting, some sexual suggestions

You could feel your handwriting getting progressively worse as the weeks went by.

That was one thing you had not considered as a side-effect from spending so much time with Aemond.

Every hallway, every corner, every walk in the garden. There was always some off-chance that your paths would cross. And every time this coincidence seemed to happen, there was a stupid smile on your face and your hands grip on your notebook seemed less and less. One a few of occasions he had dared to close the space between you, whether it was to brush a hair from your face or to run a warm hand over yours. All of this serving to send warmth to your cheeks that a smile that reached your eyes.

Nobody was more surprised of this behaviour, than Aemond himself. Though he would never admit it to himself.

He had already gifted you one book, written entirely in cursive Valyrian, promising to read you through it, to teach you how to pronounce the words like a native. The book had been kept well and separate from the rest of them in the library. The cover was a wine colour and there was not a rip on it.

And when he extended the book out to you, your hands delicately traced the patterns on the front, inspecting all the details as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Your eyes had found his, wide and bright with gratitude and a slight film of tears coated them, mouth pulling into a line to stop yourself from crying at the kind gesture.

 "Ziry iksos issa jaelagon naejot rȳbagon ao pikībagon bisa, issa riñnykeā"

 When he spoke Valyrian, it almost seemed too perfect. His voice was suited to it, and it was a shame that he could not speak it all the time. The way he formed the words, his intonation, all serving to set off a spark inside you. And at the notion that he spoke only to you. For you.

It is my wish to hear you read this, my lady.

The words were sweet. But you relished in the way he said them more so.

The book nestled in your arms, you looked down, trying to hide the blush that very quickly was heating your face from the Prince before you. Your hand smoothed over your clothed arm, picking at the wrinkles in it with anxiety. Your hand went to your side and the mind raced at the notion that your notebook was not there.

And he was stood before you, regarding you and the way your anxious face formed being separated from your notebook. Of course, it had not been an accident. You had dared for this day to leave it behind, but now the space where it would have been seemed endless. Like those soldiers who return from battle with a limb missing, but still feeling it, still being able to control it.

Your eyes briefly met Aemond's and he could see the panic in your eyes. And you need not be panicked or anxious, you knew he was patient and kind, despite appearances.

"gūrogon aōha jēda…" He said quietly, he had his hands laced behind his back and his good eye looked down on you softly.

Take your time.

He looked so peaceful it bought a pain on your heart. Nobody was as patient as him. Nor had anyone in the past been.

You send him a ghost of a smile in thanks, looking away to pull in a long breath of air, so much so that your lungs ached. You let yourself exhale first before bringing another burst of air in, mouth open to form the words,

"i-iska…no, iksā to-l-lī sȳz…" you manage, the nerves being the cause of it more than anything, "…d-dārilaros Aemond…"

You are too kind, Prince Aemond.

You dared look back up at him once you'd finished the sentence. There was that look again, the darkened look he always gives you whenever you say his name. Your grip on the book tightened once again seeing him take a step towards you and he could hear a breath get caught in your throat. He was so close you could see all the details of his dragon-shaped clasps on his tunic. So close you could smell his scent around you. So close that you thought he might touch you.

"nyke hae ziry skori vestrā ñuha brōzi…"  

I like it when you say my name.

His hand came to a lock of your hair at the side of your face, running the strands through his dextrous fingers. His other fingers ran across your jaw, sending a chill through you, only to come to rest his palm on your cheek. His motions were so slow and calculated that it sent a heat through your body that settled in your stomach. You swallowed back, suddenly nervous in his presence, even more so when you felt his thumb trace the outside of your lip.

Your eye never moved from his.

"ivestragon ziry aril"

Say it again.

To anyone else it would have been a command. But he seemed desperate to hear it again and a shuddered breath came from you again.

And before you could even prepare yourself, do all your breathing and calming, the words seemed to pass your lips as naturally as the sun rises over the horizon.

"Aemond…"

He was so close still, a smirk on his face and a smile on your own. All anxiety seemed pressed down below the surface, replaced with something new. Something you thought you would never experience.

Desire.

A desire for his company. For his understanding and patience. But also a desire for him. For him to be pressed to you as if in need and desperation. You could feel your throat constrict at the mere thought.

"kostan ūndegon skoros iksā otāpagon…" He started.

I can see what you are thinking.

"…ñuha riña"

Against his better judgement, he withdrew his hand from you to place behind his back once more, standing back to revel in the effect he had on you. You knew what he was doing and it was not original in the slightest, but it still made you smile bashfully, fingers desperately gripping the book he had given you.

He cleared his throat as if he himself was also nervous, " kessa nyke ūndegon ao tolī…tolī ñuha gūrēñare?" he asked. Shall I see you later, after my training.

You nodded in earnest and watched as he turned to leave, his gaze on yours the entire time until his back faced you. Marvelling at his form as he walked away, he took one more glance back before rounding the corner and you wondered how someone could be so expressive with only one eye. And yet even the smallest glance could send a spark through you like no other. That, combined with his words, was the greatest pleasure you had known.

Even the way he walked away served to stir you so. The way his long legs carried his strides and the way he commanded his space with his form, such confidence at face value and yet so often, in your shared language, he had said that it was not always this way. He had learned the cold stare of feigned confidence through the many years he spent hiding himself away, learning to use his words as his weapon and training his body to be his deadliest.

Who would think that a man like this could be so gracious in the presence of a woman.

Of you.

Hurriedly, you half-ran back to your chambers, letting out a deep breath at being alone and able to let out your thoughts on the man. The book he had gifted you was placed lovingly on your bed as a maid softly knocked at your door. All you could do was face the mirror and uncontrollably smile as she loosened the ties of your dress, pulling the gown off your shoulders to pool at your feet.

"You seem in good spirits, my lady" she remarked, preparing the other dress to be worn at the feast. You could tell that when she said it, she was smiling, "Would the Prince have anything to do with that?"

In the mirror you met her gaze very briefly and shrugged, her hm in response seemed to satisfy her question. Without pressing any further, she draped the dress at your feet and once stepped inside pulled the heavy garment up your body to fasten at your front. This maid was quick about her work and laced it effortlessly at the front and at the back, using metal ones at the front that were coated with gold to compliment the deep forest colour of the gown.

Once the skirts were smoothed down, you observed your figure in the mirror. It was quite possibly the only thing you wore which truly fit you and it was here you felt you looked truly beautiful, for the first time maybe ever. All the small gold fastening attached at the front reminded you of the endless times you had seen Queen Alicent with her seven-pointed star accessories, and you thought she had looked beautiful then.

One your hair was styled the way you preferred, not overly braided, the maid stepped back to admire her own work.

"Beautiful, my lady"

You nod your head in thanks as she takes her leave.

You yourself look on your silhouette and shake slightly. To be his betrothed is one thing, but to be his wife. To tame the blood of the dragon. You felt underequipped for the task at hand.

But you had already conquered him. You just did not know it yet.

You had been seated at the table for some time with one of your older brothers before people started to file into the hall. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had been in this room but it had been so altered for the feast that it was unrecognisable. There was a long table in the middle of the room with a red tablecloth and many candles decorating the middle, their flames barely flickering the room was so quiet.

Glancing over to your brother, he had his head in his hand, probably severely hungover. His eyes were closed so tightly that you thought that he might be in pain, and you half thought to ask him if he was alright but decided against it. For he had not spoken a single word to you in the weeks your family had been guests to King Viserys and Lady Alicent.

With a sigh you smooth your hands over your gown and clasp your hands together, sending a glare over to your brother who whispered shut up at your sigh.

You could not even make sound in front of your family. The kindness served to you by Aemond had made you realise how badly they treated you. Especially your father.

The echoes of fast footsteps broke you from your trance and you looked over at the entrance to see you older sister, arms hurriedly beside her in her half-run and a fierce stare tracking the room.

Her daggered eyes landed upon you, finger pointed in your direction.

"You!" the words came from her like a stab.

Her fierce look had you on your feet, a questioning look on your face as your sister made for you across the room, your eldest brother not far behind in his own half-run. The other drunken brother furrowed his brows in curiosity and all time seemed to slow as your sister threw all her weight into her palm to strike you across the face.

You could barely register the pain in your face until you looked back into your sister's hateful eyes which is when the pain started to bloom across your cheek and jaw. More shocked than anything right now, you raised your hand to your now burning face to touch, it was not sore yet but it certainly would be. Your sister looked unnaturally angry, so much so that the lines around her mouth were now visible and she was shaking. Her eyes were scrunched up with her expression, mouth hanging open slightly to say something.

"You fucking whore" she spat at you, her hand came to your bare arm to twist the skin there and you let out a cry at the pain. But she would not let go and seemed to dig her fingernails into you even further, even at the sudden presence of your eldest brother and entrance of your father.

"What is the meaning of this!" your father's voice boomed but your sister never took her eyes off you. Afraid that if she would, you would escape her tight grip.

"How did you do it, hm?" she asked, eye boring into you, "The Prince could not have fallen for an idiot like you…"

Your mouth formed into a flat line in an attempt to deflect her unkind words, pushing the brewing tears back, but an ever-present feeling was there also. Anger.

"Let her go, sister" Your eldest brother was at her side, hand hooked under her arm to pull her away. Not one look from him was given to you.

Your father was not far behind, his booming voice aching for his daughter to release her hold on you, noting the arrival of Queen Alicent into the hall, who looked shocked at the whole situation.

"What did you do then, fuck him?" she snapped and you could feel your anger bubble inside of you. Mouth open ready to say something, the familiar block stopped you, but your sister was so close, so you thought to opt for a whisper if nothing else. You could no just stand idly by while she disrespected you. That is something you had learnt from him. In only the few weeks you had known him, he seemed to have taught you more than your family ever had.

"N-n.." you start, and a moment of surprise passes on your sister's face, but the anger remains, "…not all of us…h-have to…"

She seemed to mull over the words for a long time, fingernails pushing so hard into your skin you were sure there would be bruising and welts. And it was as if it was a language she had not know, you could see her bounce the words in her head. Or perhaps she had never bothered to hear for the sound of her sister's voice before.

It all came down on your sister so quickly and she let a sinister smile pass on her face at the understanding of your words.

"You dare take the Prince from me…" she cursed, her grip tightening like a vice once more around you and you closed your eyes once more to brace yourself for another strike.

"Care to tell me why your hands are on my betrothed?" a voice rang out loud and deep and your eyes popped open again to find Aemond at the doorway, hands ever clasped behind his back, his cold, hard stare at your sister.

Her head spun around with such speed, you thought it might pop off and her confused gaze met the Prince's, but it was not long before a sinister smile returned, her hands still on you.

"I am your betrothed" she returned.

Aemond turned his head so that he could face the sister straight on, nothing needed to be said, saying enough with his gaze entire. The room seemed deathly quiet as he took his few steps towards your sister, his eye never met yours, not even once. There was danger in the room and he felt he had to address it.

"Aemond…" Alicent muttered, trying to distract him. But it was no use. He was trained directly on your sister and you could feel her façade slip away by the second as she shrunk under his look.

"Release her" he ordered. When your sister did not move, he sent a hooded glare down at her, "Now"

It was clear your sister was too out of it to move, so your eldest brother pulled her towards him, with no resistance. Your groaned in pain as your sister's fingernails came from your skin, leaving red half-moon shaped marks on you. Aemond's hand was on your arm instantly, inspecting the damage your sister inflicted on you, his touch soft against the violence that had ensued before. His fingers traced the marks before allowing his eye to meet yours and then your cheek, seeing the way the skin was inflamed, red and no doubt sore.

It was difficult to gauge his emotion at this time. But all you knew it that he was angry.

Turning to your siblings and father, he took your arm softly to push you behind him, whispering to you softly.

"Gaomas ziry ōdrikagon?" Does it hurt? He asked.

You could not dignify him with a lie and simply replied quietly, "M-mirrī…" A little.

Aemond could not tolerate anyone laying a hand on you, and you seemed to understand this as he faced your family.

"What was that?" you father asked, wide-eyed and staring at you. Silence filled the room once more and your father shuffled embarrassed, "Answer me"

"She spoke" your sister said, "So it does speak"

Her laugh filled the room, that cackle that Aemond hated so much. The one that inspired him to cast her aside, now even more annoying.

"You mean to me that you can speak all this time?" your father says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "And then once in the company of the Prince, suddenly your idiocy is gone?"

"She is a whore" your sister seethes, but your father orders her to be quiet.

"I would suggest you use different words " Aemond warned, his voice low and protective in the face of your family.

The otherwise quiet Queen Alicent seemed to step forward, using her body to separate the two parties. For a long time, she had been the dividing force between families and had no issues stepping back into that responsibility now.

"That is enough" she said softly, her eyes forever on your father, "My Lord, no promises have been made regarding joining our houses"

All at once, the reality of the situation seemed to hit your father. His face changed from one scorned, angry and exhausted to something more hopeful.

"He is meant to be my husband!" your sister called out, eldest brother still holding onto her arm. She looked positively furious and with the opportunity would most certainly have broken free to wreak havoc once more.

"Be quiet" your father warned. Looking towards you, he jutted his jaw upwards, feeling as if suddenly he had the upper hand, "This marriage will still benefit us no doubt and you have done this family an unexpected favour, your Grace"

Alicent wasn't enjoying a moment of this and simply looked onwards, almost dissociated. Your father's tone seemed predatory, his gaze creeping back over to you and Aemond. Your fingers rested on his hand, delicately gripping him and thanking him for his support in this awkward situation.

Aemond cocked his head, knowing your father had more to say.

Stepping forward, your father dared to glower at the Prince.

"You have taken this halfwit from me, at last"

It was clear it was aimed to set Aemond off. And it had almost worked as the man before you went to take a step forward, only to be met with your hand on his chest. Confused, he looked down at you but you simply shook your head. His look was difficult to decipher as many had often said before you, but you refused to allow him to act how others perceived him, so with a soft hand on his chest you gently pushed him back to take your place before him. One hand slipped into his, you faced your father, who had a sick, satisfied smile on his face.

You could see his gaze waver slightly when you went to open your mouth.

He was the one you feared the backlash from the most. Mother, at least, had been somewhat patient and accepting until her death. But after that, it only served to turn your father bitter. If he would not be patient for his other children, there was little hope for yourself growing up with any form of endearment. What could be expected of such a man.

You felt the familiar slam of a block in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, squeezing Aemond's hand beside you. Grounding you. With a deep breath, you looked back up to your father. He would not interrupt you this time. He would not best you.

He could not have the last laugh this time.

"You…" the words came out forcefully, almost clumsy. But no block in sight, "…are no father…t-to me"

The room was deathly quiet and more than anything, everyone was just shocked. You watched your father's face carefully and saw the raw shock that was so clearly there and you hadn't realised just how tightly you had been holding onto Aemond's hand until he squeezed back, a very obvious proud look on his features.

You took a glance about the room once the silence had become uncomfortable, your siblings sharing their own form of shock in equal measure. A sudden feeling of self-consciousness overtook you and you looked over at Alicent and finally Aemond.

Alicent looked entirely neutral if not a little amused, but Aemond did not have to hide his amusement, his lips turned up into a very clear smirk as his eye looked down at you. You dared to send him a smile back, secretly proud of what you had done in the spur of the moment.

"I think it is time for you to leave, my Lord" Alicent said, cutting through the stony silence, "The King and I will send the terms for the marriage in the coming days"

The father looked wordlessly over at the Queen, now haggard and expressionless.

"I trust the matter is closed"

"Hm" was your father's only response. He gave you somewhat of a glare before turning his back, his own hand clamping around your sisters to drag her out of the room. Your brother's seemed to give Aemond a look before following also, the eldest dragging the middle by the cuff of his shirt.

You let out a breath and your shoulders dropped, now relieved of the pressure. Aemond squeezed your hand again,

"T-tolī o-o…olvie?" you ask. Too much?

He shakes his head with a chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "Daor, īles vok"

No, it was perfect.

 The weight of the burden your family was apparently very hefty, for as they arranged their hasty departure the next day it did not seem to bother you to see them off.

You would happily spend the afternoon sat beneath the Weirwood Tree, book softly placed in your lap. Aemond leaned against the tree behind you, reading over your shoulder as your eyes darted across the words scribbled on the page, fingers at the corner ready to turn with excitement.

Aemond smirked knowingly as his eye caught your family passing the gardens, the servants carrying their luggage. Your father leered over, a gaze that could kill settling upon the Prince, but the only thing that could occupy the space between you both was the sound of you reciting the book before you. The one he had given you as a present.

He sat by, watching every now and then as the line formed between your eyebrows at a particularly difficult word, taking staggered breaths to get the long ones through in a single utterance. And for a moment, watching you reciting the text, Aemond swore he saw the passing of regret pass over your father's features.

Your words seemed to be suited to Valyrian, Aemond so often thought, and even now as he listened to your words from the history book, he took a lock of hair between his fingers to play with the strands. A chill ran up your spine at his hand on your neck, pushing the hair away, the smooth skin hiding beneath now exposed to the cold air.

His hand remained at your nape as you finished the sentence.

"Rȳ z-zȳha…sȳrje…sk-skorkydoso gaomas…b-bisa pikībagon?..." How does this read? you pause to ask, a finger pointed at the page at an unknown symbol. Aemond sat up and leered over your shoulder at the spot,

"Valyria"

"Oh" you answer, now feeling stupid, but chuckling in response. You carried on, Aemond's chin now resting softly atop your shoulder.

"Valyria iksin se….ro-rovaja oktion isse se vys. Iemny ziry..."

"Lemnȳ" Aemond corrected, smiling.

You sigh and push the book closed to place beside you, looking up at Aemond's smug face, he was so close now that you could see the stitching of his eye-patch and a shuddered breath came from you at the hand that was still placed on your skin. His eye was once against hooded to look down at you, perhaps you would never get used to the feeling that gave you.

"Ao pikībagon sȳrī" You read well.

"e-emi mērī..sssepār rhēdan" We have only just started. You shake your head at his words.

"Nyke hae aōha elēni…" I like the sound of your voice, he trailed off and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliments. Truthfully, you loved the sound of his more. Especially when he spoke Valyrian. It being your shared language, there was a certain intimacy to it. And you found yourself wondering if he would speak it during…

Your sinful thoughts were cut off by his hand on your jaw, turning your face towards him. If he was close before, now he was even closer, and you held your breath and searched his eye for his intent. He was smiling down at you, finger softly dragging across your skin and it seemed like there was nothing more romantic than saying nothing at all in this moment. Eyes zoned in on him, you opened your mouth to say something, his name.

"Aem-"

His lips interrupted you and you could feel how his softness pressed against you, body heated instantly just purely with his touch. All that fire that burned in his blood, pumped around his body, to be pressed against you now; it burned so nicely that you smiled in his kiss. Allowing him to slip into your mouth as you smiled, the warmth enveloped the two of you and you hand was softly pressed to his chest, grasping the collar of his coat, perhaps in an effort to pull him closer. Aemond groaned with need, sending a vibration of desire that descended through you.

You had never felt so wanted in your life. And Gods, it felt so nice to be wanted, to be needed.

Time seemed to pass so slowly when he had you like this and the desire deepened more so when his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing further into you. A ghost of a moan left you which only seemed to spur him on more so, running swiftly out of breath.

"Aōha udra…" he broke away to whisper, forehead resting on yours, "…nyke jorrāelagon tolī"

You smiled, eyes closed and enveloped in his scent, his love. It was other-wordly.

Your words. I need more.

 Taglist:  @candypurplebutterfly @vainillasmil157 @ysa-psa @angelaevangelion @bellaisasleep @random-human02 @guardian-of-the-imagination​

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 8

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~3.8k words

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff! but with tension!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, did I mention tension!?, some alcohol consumption, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

Chapter Content: kissing / making out / suggestive content (SFW, but MDNI, please!)

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: okay, things are HEATING UP Y’ALL! Thank you to everyone who has read this series!! I am having such fun with this pair!! I hope you enjoy this part, even tho it is long! Sorry!! Content gets more mature, but nothing super explicit—however MDNI!! Just in case!! I'm planning two more parts after this!! ENJOY!

Taglist: @yeoberryx @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah (lmk if you want to join the taglist!!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Even you found it hard to concentrate on work over the next few weeks. No one had ever distracted you as much as Yoon Jeonghan. Being in the same room as him had made you nervous before, but now there was an added layer of giddiness, mixed with anxiety over anyone noticing whether something had changed between the two of you.

You were sure to always greet him now, but didn't want to go overboard... You were still being cautious about the whole situation.

The line of text in your contract prohibiting romantic relationships of any kind between employees flashed before your eyes over and over again, making the pit of anxiety in your stomach grow every time.

"What's gotten into you lately?" Jiyeon sneered at you as you collected footage from the day's dance practice. You had been hunching further and further toward your computer screen, misplacing two large video files in the wrong folder and having to dig for them again. You hardly ever made small mistakes like this, and you knew it was bad if Jiyeon had noticed.

“Sorry, I’m not sure—” you said awkwardly. She rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you’re not feeling up to Fashion Week next week, I’d happily take your place.”

Oh my god, you thought, that really is next week. You would be on the same plane, in the same hotel, attending the same events as Jeonghan... You couldn’t even attempt to hide the smile that swept over your face.

“What are you smiling like that for?” Jiyeon was still scrutinizing you. “It’s so creepy.”

“Ah, nothing,” you said, trying to reset the look on your face, “I’ll be okay for Fashion Week, don’t worry.”

Jiyeon let out something between a sigh and a groan and headed to the editing bay with her hard drive, leaving you to freak out in silence over how on earth you were going to handle being that close to Jeonghan over so many days. There would be other members there, too, but you had been assigned to Jeonghan’s entourage. You wondered what he was thinking about it... Was he looking forward to it, too? Your stomach felt like it had flipped over inside you at the thought.

But, then it hit you—you hadn’t told him whether you definitely wanted to pursue this or not. The answer felt so obvious to you, but you were still worried about your job. But, how could you say no to Yoon Jeonghan? Were you an idiot? No, this was about more than just what you wanted... you had to do what was right for both of you...

You were in the midst of this mental battle when you felt someone lean over to look at your desktop screen.

“Ah, don’t use that frame—I look too weird, nuna,” Jeonghan was so close to you that you felt his hair tickled your cheek, making you practically jump out of your skin and rocket away from him on your rolling chair.

“Jeonghan!” You blurted. You quickly looked around to make sure that no one was around. Jeonghan just chuckled at you.

“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, unable to contain his amusement at your reaction, “there’s no one here.” You looked up at him, flustered nonetheless. You’d said hi to each other, but you hadn’t really had a proper conversation—about your feelings, or about anything else, really—since he told you how he felt last week. You felt your face getting hot immediately. He was looking at you, smirking still, now leaning against the edge of your desk. He had on his dance practice clothes. You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him during the practice. He wasn’t exactly known as the best dancer in the group, but his skills were underrated in your opinion. He was so smooth and captivating... you might be biased, though.

“What are you doing here?” you said.

“I came to see you,” he said, “why else would I be here?”

“I’m still working on this—” you said, even though you had technically finished.

“That’s okay,” he said, “I want to get you dinner when you’re done.”

“Ah, you don’t have to!” you said, panicking and feeling overwhelmed by how casual and sweet he was being. Did he not feel anxious about this at all? What was going through his head?

“Nuna, I think we should spend more time alone together so that you can start to relax,” he said in a low voice. He sounded sweet, but there was something velvety and... dangerous(?) in his tone that made your heart start to hammer out of control. You knew he had a point... it wasn’t like you wanted to be jumping out of your skin every time he came near you. But you genuinely couldn’t imagine ever calming down around him.

“Okay,” you relented, starting to gather your things.

“Yay!” Jeonghan said in a cute voice, making you want to just forget everything, squeeze his face between your hands, and kiss him over and over again. But you just laughed at him instead.

“Wah, nuna has such a pretty laugh,” Jeonghan said. Jeez, is he going to be like this all the time? You wondered.

“You’re crazy,” you said, as the two of you walked out of the production office and made your way to the parking lot. You figured that most of the staff and the members had gone home, but you were still wary, even turning down Jeonghan’s offer to carry your stuff.

“Nuna, why are you so bad at taking compliments?” he asked. He was walking slightly behind you, so you couldn’t see him looking you up and down as you walked ahead. And, mercifully, he couldn’t see your face flush an even deeper shade of red at his question.

“I’m not bad at taking compliments,” you said, “you just say them so... randomly—they catch me off guard.”

“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan said softly. “I’ll be more careful.”

“That’s not what I meant!” you turned suddenly, making Jeonghan stop short inches from your face. You immediately jumped backwards, overwhelmed by how close he was. He smiled even wider at your reaction.

“I don’t bite, I promise,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you. All you could do was turn around and walk even faster toward the car, trying to outpace your own nerves. Jeonghan had to jog a little to catch up with you.

“Nuna, it’s not a race!” he said, pretending to whine as you approached his car.

“Let’s take our time and get to know each other over dinner,” he said once you were in the passenger seat.

“I’d like that,” you said before you had time to think over your words. You kind of surprised yourself, even. Jeonghan looked over at you, his eyes gleaming with something like smugness.

“Ah, are you warming up to me, nuna?” he teased.

“Maybe,” you teased back, folding your arms in front of you. He couldn’t help but laugh at your pouty reaction.

“God, you’re cute,” he said. You looked away to hide your blatantly pleased reaction, embarrassed at how flirtatious he was being, but he could see you holding back a grin and it filled him with an even stronger urge to tease you.

Jeonghan drove you to a restaurant not far from your apartment. You’d walked by it a few times but had never had the time to stop in—even though they were open later than most places near you. It had a warm and cozy vibe, and there were almost no people there at this hour, which filled you with relief.

You sat down at a table at the back, and Jeonghan ordered an array of dishes for you to share.

“I like that sharing food here is so common,” you said when the dishes arrived.

“It’s not common in the States?” Jeonghan asked, filling a plate with a little bit of everything and then handing it to you.

“It’s not not common,” you said, “there are certain places that are ‘family style,’ where sharing food is expected. But you don’t see it that much at a typical restaurant.”

“That sounds so sad,” Jeonghan said. “Food is meant to be shared.”

“I agree,” you said, taking a few bites.

“Ah, I like that you eat well,” Jeonghan said. You became embarrassed at the thought of him watching you eat, instinctively covering your mouth with your hand.

“I guess so,” you said sheepishly.

“It’s a good thing!” he said, “Nuna! Take the compliment!”

“Thank you very much,” you joked, bowing to him. He chuckled at your taking his bait.

“What’s nuna’s family like? Did you eat ‘family style’ growing up?” Jeonghan continued to eat, watching you as he slurped his noodles.

“No, quite the opposite,” you said. You didn’t have a rough childhood by any means, but your family wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “Both of my parents worked so much, we didn’t have much time to eat together.”

“Ah, that explains your work addiction,” he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Addiction!” you repeated, finding the word choice funny for some reason. Jeonghan gazed at you. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh more openly than he ever saw you laugh at work. It eased his mind, filling him with a sense of hope that you might get even more comfortable around him.

“You’re so serious about your job,” he said, “it’s impressive.”

“You’re impressive!” you blurted out without thinking.

“Ah,” he said, shaking his head humbly, “I’m not, really. I don’t think I work nearly as hard as some of the other members.”

“That’s not true!” you said adamantly. Jeonghan was a little taken aback at your strong reaction, so much so that you swore you could detect a blush creeping across his face for once. Seeing him get shy like that made your heart swell with such undeniable affection—and that was it, your decision had been made. It had been made before he’d even confessed his feelings for you, really, but seeing him so close to you—sharing such a simple but intimate act together like just eating a meal... it was so obvious.

“I’d like to keep seeing you, Jeonghan-shi,” you said. “I want it more than anything, actually.”

Jeonghan stopped mid-bite, staring at you. His heart throbbed at your straightforward gaze. You were looking directly at each other, both of you wanting to preserve this quiet but decisive moment, like a page turning.

“Wah, nuna...” Jeonghan said, putting down his chopsticks, “...that was so hot.” He smirked at you, your face getting even warmer than before, as if that were even possible. But you didn’t care anymore. How could you have even hesitated? You were so head over heels for this man in front of you, in his baggy dance practice clothes and his perfect skin even with a bare face... You wanted so badly to hold him, to kiss him...

“Chogiyo!” Jeonghan turned suddenly, flagging down the server. “Can we get the rest of this to go?” You stared at him.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, bewildered at this change of plan.

“No, we’re leaving,” he said.

“And going where?”

“Look, nuna,” he said, “I’m sorry to get impatient, but I want to be alone with you right now. Can I please come up to your apartment?” He spoke in a low, almost sinister, tone and your heart all but stopped. You hadn’t anticipated this at all. Ridiculously, your mind flashed to the sparse and impersonal feel of your apartment. Suddenly you were conscious of every dish left in the sink and piece of laundry on the floor... But you weren’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“Okay,” you said.

~+~+~

“Just close your eyes until I tell you to open them,” you pleaded with Jeonghan. The two of you stood outside of your apartment door. You were fumbling with the keycode to unlock the door, distracted by Jeonghan standing right behind you, one of his hands resting on your hip while the other dangled the plastic bag of food from the restaurant.

“Nuna, I don’t care how messy your apartment is,” he whispered in your ear, making you giggle at the tingling sensation of his breath on your skin.

“I can’t have you seeing my place like this,” you said, matching his tone as you turned slightly. His face was so close to yours that you snapped your head away by reflex, finally crashing through the door. You took off your shoes and immediately started running around the small space, picking up any stray item in sight.

“Whoa, are you a minimalist?” Jeonghan said looking around.

“You’re not closing your eyes!” you said desperately. Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at how frantic you were being.

“Okay, I’m closing them,” he said, covering his face with his hands as he stood by the door.

You gathered whatever laundry and clutter you could find, throwing everything into the tiny hallway closet. You straightened out the bedspread on your air mattress (which you had yet to replace with a real mattress, even though you’d been living here for months). You fluffed up the pillows on the small couch at the other end of the room, trying to make the atmosphere slightly more inviting. But he was right—without the clutter, you wouldn’t know that someone lived here. Considering how much time you spent working, this apartment was basically just a place to sleep at the end of the day.

“Uh,” you hesitated, “okay, you can open your eyes.” You sat on the couch, and Jeonghan shucked off his jacket, taking a seat next to you. He wasted no time getting close to you, draping one arm over the back of the couch, boxing you in—his eyes determined and probing. You were so flustered and overwhelmed that you immediately stood up.

“What are you doing?” he laughed at you, taking his hand in yours and attempting to pull you back down to his side.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked, almost shaking with nerves.

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said, smiling sweetly at you.

“I have some soju!” you said.

“Perfect,” he said softly, his eyes never straying from you. For a moment you felt like he might be talking about you instead of the soju. You swore he kept gazing at your mouth... But you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him long, the look he was giving you made you so exasperated. You brought the bottle of soju from your fridge along with two glasses back to the couch, sitting on the floor between the couch and the low table that functioned as your dining table, desk, and coffee table. Jeonghan watched you, his hand floating up to play with your hair as soon as you sat down, making you giggle out of nervousness again.

“Nuna, relax,” he said softly, brushing your hair sweetly between his fingers before leaning down now to take the glass of soju from your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly downing the soju and burying your face in your hands.

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan said, also downing his soju and sliding down to sit beside you on the floor. You were so close that you could almost feel his breath, the faint scent of peach from the soju still on his lips. He was looking directly at you, and you decided to push through your anxiety and remain where you were, resisting the urge to back away from him out of panic. His face was slowly getting closer to yours, his gaze dropping slightly... Your eyes matched his, taking in his beautiful features up close. You were sure that he could hear your heart pounding out of control.

But you didn’t have time to worry much longer, because before you even realized it, he had closed the gap between you—and you felt his soft lips against yours, the taste of soju fresh on his skin.

You were so shocked that you forgot to close your eyes, and for a moment, you were frozen—the feeling of his lips completely absorbing any thought you might have. He pressed his mouth into yours softly, and soon you were returning his kiss. You felt his hand move to cup the side of your neck—his thumb running along your jawline as he deepened the kiss slightly.

You let out a soft moan involuntarily, breaking away from him before you could stop yourself.

He kept hold of the side of your neck with one hand, adjusting his seat so that he was facing you more fully. He took in the look of utter shock and bewilderment on your face, making him smile. You were a little older than him, but you were still so innocent—it drove him insane with desire. But he didn’t want to push it too far. You were already so willing to go along with what he wanted; he thought it was only fair to give you some time for your brain to catch up.

He rested his forehead against yours and you let out some mixture of a sigh and nervous laughter, unable to suppress the smile stretching across your face.

You licked your lips, savoring the feeling of how they felt against his, before you reached up to also take hold of Jeonghan’s jaw, guiding his mouth back to yours. Jeonghan took this as permission to unleash more of the frustration that had been building in him for months, since he first laid eyes on you.

You felt his free arm snake around your waist pulling you into his lap. Your mind was completely lost in the feeling of his lips. He’s good at kissing, you thought, the supple feeling of his mouth, his hands, his grip on your waist completely absorbing you. Your arms wrapped instinctively around his neck, and you felt his tongue run along your bottom lip before he nipped at it softly, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You couldn’t help but open your mouth slightly, inviting him in. The feel of his tongue sliding against yours made your breath catch, the sounds of your kisses and sighs filling the tiny room.

The more he kissed you, the more lightheaded you felt, and you started to feel like you might lose your mind...

“Jeonghan—” you murmured his name, pulling away from him to catch your breath.

“Mmm?” he murmured as he dipped his head, trailing soft kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, making you shiver with pleasure. His lips sucked softly on the space just beneath your ear, and you let out a small yelp of pleasure.

“Nuna, you’re so responsive,” he hummed against your skin. You could feel his lips curving into a smile. “I love the noises you make.”

“Stop teasing me,” you panted, gripping his shoulders. His muscles were so taut, you wanted to run your hands all over his body... to feel the trim muscles and massage away any tension that he might have...

You felt something familiar threatening to overtake you, a warm throbbing sensation pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jeonghan continued to kiss your skin languidly—his lips sticky and sublime. He could feel your rapid-fire pulse beating against the delicate skin of your neck as he kissed you. He could also sense himself starting to get carried away, unsure if he could stop his cock from growing hard before you might notice.

“Wait a second—” you panted, gently tugging Jeonghan’s face away from your neck, “you can’t leave any marks, Jeonghan.” Jeonghan pouted up at you.

“But I want to keep kissing nuna’s pretty neck,” he whined like a little kid, diving back into the crook of your shoulder to resume servicing the sensitive area just above your collarbone, making you moan softly.

“Kiss my lips instead,” you whispered, and Jeonghan let out an almost exasperated sigh.

“Well, when you put it like that,” he murmured, before pulling your face toward his, twining his fingers in your hair and pressing into the nape of your neck as he kissed you even more aggressively than before. You let his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, savoring the feeling of his eager lips against yours, moaning contentedly at his obedient change in position.

You lost track of time, completely subsumed by the feeling of his tongue against yours, trying to ignore the obvious arousal starting to gather between your legs.

You were never one to move this quickly, but you were finding it hard to contain yourself...

Jeonghan pulled away from you, his hands gripping around your waist firmly as he lifted you slightly off of him, moving to stand while effortlessly bringing you with him, starting to guide you toward the air mattress on the other side of the room.

“Ah, Jeonghan!” you said suddenly, reality colliding into you as he pushed you onto the mattress, his body on top of yours. “Wait!” There was a slight edge to your voice that made Jeonghan stop right away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, gazing down at you below him. He thought you looked absolutely stunning... But your face was flushed, and the look of panic in your eyes told him clearly that you weren’t ready to go further. Not tonight, at least.

“Nothing,” you said, trying to keep your cool, but you couldn’t hide your frenzied expression.

Jeonghan ran a reassuring hand against your cheek, planting one last kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s pick this up some other time, nuna,” he said, shifting his weight so that he was seated next to you. You felt a slight drop in your stomach... some odd mixture of relief and disappointment coursing through you.

“Oh shit, it’s late,” Jeonghan said after looking at his phone. It was indeed late, and you were scheduled to join BSS on another sponsored content shoot early in the morning. “I’ve kept you up past your bedtime.” Jeonghan smiled slyly at you, and you got up to fetch his coat.

“I don’t mind,” you said, “I’m sorry—I just, I don’t know—that I—" you couldn’t find the words to explain your hesitation when it came to this kind of thing. You felt so lame, like there was something wrong with you... this was Yoon Jeonghan!! Why were you being so weird about this!?

But you were brought back from the anxious thoughts creeping into your mind when Jeonghan’s pillowy lips landed softly against yours once more.

“It’s okay, nuna,” he said, stroking your face with his gentle hands, “I’m glad I got to be with you like this.” He spoke so softly and sincerely, your heart felt like it was going to fall right out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you said, softly back.

You watched Jeonghan walk to his car. He waved at you before driving away... and it would take you hours to fall asleep, sure that you had just lived some kind of dream.

[justmediocrewriting]

“White Lace,” {v.s}

Summary: it’s laundry day on the Merry, and ever the gentleman, Sanji offered to take Nami’s place when the navigator explained that she was too exhausted to attend to the chore. Sanji expected to simply find a sore back and pruny fingers by doing so, but instead he found much more…

Or: Sanji finds a pair of your white lace underwear, and you catch him in the middle of washing them, resulting in some tension and embarrassment between the both of you.

Genre: spice (no smut, but dirty thoughts and suggestive themes)

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: ❌

Warnings: I kinda feel this could fall under voyeurism to an extent, because Sanji does find a pair of your panties and kind of like plays with them, so maybe it does? Idk. Some rather not-so-innocent thoughts from Sanji, sexualization, very slight virginity kink if you squint really hard, panty sniffing, panty licking, sexual tension(ish?), female pronouns and parts mentioned

A/n: so I’ve got roughly 10+ things in my drafts right now but this literally WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE, so I knew I had to write it. I hope you hoes enjoy ❤️ might do a part 2 idkkkk. 18+ under the cut, ye have been warned.

{=================================}

Sanji found comfort in routine. For some, a humdrum life would become quickly boring, but for Sanji repetition was key to his sanity. It was the main reason that Sanji was so fluidly quick in creating a new routine from the first day he’d agreed to set sail with Luffy — that and that it had helped cure the insistent anxiety of being at sea again after so many years of remaining stationary.

Sanji greatly disliked breaking routine unless the situation absolutely called for it; a battle, for example, or in this morning’s case, a beautiful woman asking him for help.

Sanji enjoyed routine, but he enjoyed satisfying women a lot more.

So when Nami had entered the galley, hair mussed and eyes hazy and unfocused with a small basket of laundry perched delicately on her hip, Sanji was quick to abandon the first step of his daily routine (taking inventory of the galley stock) and pluck the basket from her arm.

Nami sighed gratefully and her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion, and Sanji felt his heart lurch with sympathy. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to fatigue.

“I spent most of the night drawing the charts to the next few islands. I guess I got so wrapped up in it I just hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.”

Sanji nodded along to her explanation as he gently set the basket of clothes atop the island counter, and in the process he inadvertently let his eyes skim across the articles within. Colors popped against one another, like a cluttered rainbow of pinks, blues, whites, reds, and teals — from what Sanji could see they were mostly shirts.

“Laundry day, aye?” Sanji asked conversationally, tearing his eyes from the basket to smile at Nami. She groaned and brought a hand up to massage the back of her neck as she nodded.

“Yeah. There’s a few of my shirts in there, but it’s mostly (Y/N)’s clothes. She washed mine last week, so I agreed to wash hers this week.”

Sanji frowned and appraised the tired woman before him; it pained him to see a woman like Nami having to work so hard. He’d always felt that life at sea, what with so much to maintain, was far too harsh for a lady — ladies were meant to be spoiled and taken care of, at least in Sanji’s eyes. Nami had chosen a life at sea, and Sanji knew that with this decision she’d long accepted the responsibilities of such, and he had no doubt that Nami could handle it, but if Sanji could do something to help relieve her of some of the work he would.

“I can take care of it for you, if you want.” Sanji said, and Nami’s eyes snapped open. She looked equal parts relieved and panicked by his offer, and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, Sanji, I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already got enough on your plate.” Nami murmured, and then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “we all do.”

Sanji rolled his shoulders in dismissal of her worry. “You’re not asking, love. I’m offering. And I’m not too terribly busy; it’s still early, so I’ll have plenty of time to prep breakfast before Luffy wakes up.”

Nami bit her lip, and she looked minutely closer to accepting the offer, but there was still a hardened hesitation in her eyes. Sanji smiled ever gently at her.

“It’s alright, Nami. Why not go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll take care of this.”

Finally, Nami sighed and relented to acceptance. With a small but grateful nod, she gave Sanji a tired smile before turning on her heel to exit the galley; before she did so, she placed a manicured hand against the door frame and sent him one last glance.

“Really, Sanji, thank you. Once you’re done washing them you don’t have to worry about hanging them to dry; just come get me and I’ll do that.” And with that Nami breezed from the galley, and Sanji gave a small chuckle at her attempt to take some of the load off of him. Even if it was Nami’s turn to do the laundry as was her responsibility, Sanji wouldn’t allow her to set them to dry — he’d do that himself, as well; and he even set it in his mind that he’d fold them as well.

It wasn’t until Sanji pulled out the first shirt that he began to feel as though he shouldn’t have offered his help; because the fabric in his hand was familiar, and it dawned on him that the majority of the clothes in the basket were yours. It was a detail that Sanji had skimmed by when Nami was explaining the situation, and now the reality of it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Sanji’s skin prickled as if he were committing the most atrocious sin, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. The shirt in his hand was one of your favorites; you’d worn it a lot, and just looking at the rumpled article supplied Sanji with various memories of you donning it. It looked rather pleasant on you, especially when the hem of it rose slightly to reveal the smallest sliver of skin when you moved in just the right way, and Sanji had to quickly place it back in the basket and take a deep inhale to staunch the blood flowing towards his groin.

Sanji’s attraction to you was something that he vaguely felt might be out of hand; he was a lover of women, yes, but never had he experienced a pull as strong as the one he had towards you. Maybe it was the way innocence practically poured from your aura, or the way your cheeks brightened with any pet name or compliment he offered you, as if such attention was a completely new experience for you — whatever it was, it was highly alluring to Sanji, and he found himself wanting more and more of it – of you – every day.

Sanji flared his nostrils a few more times, every breath deep and steadying, repeatedly telling himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and his intentions were of the best, and to get a fucking grip, Sanji. Just wash the clothes and be normal!

As he relocated the basket next to the sink and pulled out a pale yellow shirt Sanji deliberately tried to focus his thoughts on anything other than the fact that he was touching your clothes, that you’d worn them and they’d clung to your skin and more than likely smelled of you, of that wonderful floral perfume that was subtle but nearly overpowering in close proximity — that thought alone had Sanji itching to bring the fabric to his nose and inhale, and he had to quickly turn the faucet on and shove the article beneath the stream of water to avoid doing so.

Piece by piece, mechanically and as empty headed as possible, Sanji soaked and washed the clothes under the stream of water, wringing each article out generously to avoid the chance of mildew. By the time he was half way through the basket, Sanji felt confident that he could get through the process without too much trouble (or too many inappropriate thoughts or southward flowing blood); but that was quickly wiped from his psyche when he mindlessly groped within the basket and laid touch to something soft and small and lacy.

Upon pulling it out to examine it, Sanji was hit with a flush of arousal so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet; gripped within his fingers, soft and lacy and so, so delicate looking, was a pair of white, sheer panties. Sanji’s entire being short circuited, train of thought screeching to a halt and brain being instead assaulted by a myriad of images — of those sheer white panties clinging to your hips, cupping the swell of your ass in such a tantalizing way, hem resting against your tummy and rising in time with your labored breaths as Sanji picked you apart molecule by molecule —

“Stop,” Sanji hissed to himself, cursing his traitorous dick when it hardened to half mast in his dress pants, twitching in approval with each new image and thought that flashed into his hind brain. Sanji knew he should look away, knew he could stop these reactions if he just put the panties away, abandoned the task and fetched Nami instead to finish it — and though Sanji swore to himself that he wouldn’t do that due to his pride as a gentleman, the deepest part of him knew that he wasn’t going to do it because he was curious, and he was enjoying this, as much as that fact ashamed him.

Panties were one of the most, if not the most, intimate articles of clothing a woman could wear; they covered the sweetest fruit, kept it protected and out of sight, and they constantly shifted and hugged that sensitive pearl beneath. They were precious, and the fact that they belonged to you made them even more so.

Sanji nearly groaned at the thought; he could so clearly see you wearing the panties, see the way they hugged against your pussy, could imagine just how drenched the center would get as he worked you into oblivion with his lips —

Sanji opened the panties and this time, a groan did slip past his lips — because right there, in the center of the bridge of the panties, right where they would cling to your pussy, the fabric was slightly darker, and Sanji’s dick jumped at the sight. The overwhelming urge to shove them against his nose and breathe in the phantom traces of your slick sent alternating waves of arousal and intense shame through Sanji, because that was dirty, these panties were dirty, they were yours and it would be such an abuse of your trust in him if he did something like that — but the longer he stared, the stronger the urge became, and soon enough arousal had completely consumed shame, and Sanji quickly brought the panties to his face, shoving his nose directly into the center and inhaling. Sanji panted heavily against the fabric as the sweet scent entered his nostrils; it was faint, as he’d assumed it would be, but it was there, and it was so much sweeter than Sanji could have ever imagined.

Sanji pressed his hips into the counter as he took in lungfuls of your scent, hissing lowly at the pressure against the straining bulge in his pants, hips moving just so to chase a semblance of friction — consumed by sudden lust and the thought of you, the scent of you, and the urge to taste where you were sweetest, Sanji laved his tongue against the dried patch of slick, moaning haughtily into the softness of your panties.

Sanji’s surroundings and reality seemed to completely melt away as he lost himself within the sensations of smelling and tasting you, something he so longed for — just as much as he longed to corrupt you, to show you all the naughty things he shouldn’t, like he longed to see you wearing these panties, so innocent and white, and see them become forever stained from actions that were too devious and sinful for such a color.

Sanji wanted to stain you — he wanted your innocent little brain to fog over with lust, to see you discombobulate on his cock as he stretched you wide, as he took you to heights you’d never been, watch those beautiful eyes of yours roll back and watch you bare that lovely neck to him, to bite and mark and cover, to claim you, inside and out.

Sanji let out a guttaral groan as his hips picked up speed; the counter was firm and hard against his cock, a far cry from the soft, wet warmth he craved to be buried inside, but it offered friction, and with how hard his cock was, that’s what he needed, even if it was a bit unpleasant.

As consumed as he was by the myriad of sensations stoking his arousal, the soft rapping of knuckles against the wooden doorframe of the galley was almost lost on him; but thankfully, his ears had picked it up, and as if they had burned him, Sanji threw the panties into the sink below him. There was a soft splat against the steel, and Sanji winced as he realized the bridge of the panties had been soaked with his saliva — thankfully, the sound was too faint to be heard from the doorway, and the relief that offered Sanji increased tenfold as he turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of you.

Sanji’s breath caught in his throat, and nearly all traces of arousal had been chased away by deep-seated shame, and Sanji did his best to smile at you through the guilt.

“Good morning, love. Is there something you need?” Sanji forced his voice to stay calm despite the sheer panic and guilt threatening to weigh it down; Sanji’s heart was thundering within his chest, battering against his ribcage with the force of a raging bull, and he willed his erection to just go away —

But his dick was not cooperating with him, and it stayed rock hard within his pants as you smiled back shyly and began to approach him; as you turned the corner of the island counter, Sanji belatedly realized that you had a small basket tucked under your arm, with a few articles of clothing within.

“Nothing much, Sanji. Nami told me you were helping with the laundry today, and I found these in our room so I thought I’d bring them in and offer you some help—”

Sanji watched with growing dread as you paused just a couple inches from the sink, your eyes zeroing in on the panties within and widening as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape (which did not help with his erection, as his mind went to very shadowy places from the sight), and your cheeks went from normal to beet red in seconds (which also didn’t help, because it was far too pretty of a color on you).

Heavy, awkward silence fell over the galley as you stared, frozen, at the sink — Sanji wanted to look away from you, knew that you were far beyond embarrassed right now and that his staring was certainly not helping, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Arousal was still thrumming beneath his skin, and it was like seeing you in a whole new light; knowing that those sweet, innocent, pretty panties belonged to you, that you’d worn them, that they sat snugly against your pussy and became saturated in you, in your innocence, had his dick twitching and fingers itching to pull your body flush against his. He wanted to see you wearing them for him, wanted you to bend over and present to him, so that he could see the outline of your pussy, soaked and ready, through the fabric —

Sanji inhaled sharply and tore his eyes away from you, and part of him wanted to stutter out an apology, beg for your forgiveness — he was being so shameful, sexualizing you objectifying you in the way he was, craving to take away your innocence, something that was so deeply ingrained into who you were —

But the words were stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of sheer shame and regret, and even if they could, would Sanji really have the courage to admit what he’d done, let alone apologize for it?

He truly didn’t know if he would.

Sanji’s actions had been so unbecoming, had went against the very essence of his code — but that was just the simple fact of it; you had this effect on him, a tendency to bring out the worst in him. And if Sanji were being honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He secretly loved the fact that you could draw that dormant beast from its slumber, all without even knowing you were doing it.

“Those, um… those are…” to Sanji’s surprise, it was your voice that broke the silence, and though he knew it would only stir him up more, Sanji snapped his eyes to you. You vehemently ignored any eye contact with him, gaze still locked on the sink, and in the blink of an eye with movements that were much faster than Sanji’s fuddled mind could perceive, your hand shot out and you ripped the panties from the sink, throwing them hastily into the basket before resituating it on your hip.

“I’ll w-wash these later,” you mumbled, cheeks still flaming, and Sanji hated the way his dick twitched at the sight. It was such a show of innocent bashfulness that it made Sanji heat from the inside out. Finally, you made the briefest of eye contact with him and gave him a small nod. “Carry on.”

Then you were turning on your heel and swiftly exiting the galley, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts, a half empty laundry basket, and a roaring flame of shame and guilt that Sanji didn’t think could ever be doused.

[doraminatook]

We're About To Get Playfully Blasphemous Here (or...The Metaphorical Death and Resurrection of Me)

2023 was the year I turned 33, and in case you didn’t know, many religious scholars cite that as the age Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead.  Now, within literature there’s a trope called the Christ-like figure in which a character sacrifices themself and from that death, something happens in order to advance the plot.  Usually that something is either the “dead” character rising from the ashes and obtaining new powers (think Gandalf the Grey battling the Balrog and then coming back as Gandalf the White) or the protagonist being so moved by the death of this secondary character that they are reborn in some way (think Red Badge of Courage’s Jim Conklin (JC…get it?) whose death changes Henry’s opinion on war.)

Because I’m a storyteller and have a dark sense of humor, I began to wonder if I would somehow have a Christ-like-figure-moment within my thirty-third year of life.  (Not long after my birthday, I told my mom that I just had to make it to 34 and then I would have “beaten” Jesus; being a good Lutheran woman, she did not appreciate this joke.)

Now, I may be reaching or forcing figurative imagery into the literal world (isn’t that what artists do?), but I think I did have a “death” and consequential “resurrection”.  

I’m at a strange place in my writing career in that I am not famous (by any means) but I’m also not considered emerging.  Recently, I was told by a theater that I should “sit this contest out” and give someone else a chance but at the same time my work has not been produced enough to catch an agent’s eye.  (It doesn’t help that theatre companies have an intense fixation on world premieres.  They want to be the first one to do the show, apparently assuming that as soon as a piece gets produced once, that means it’s finished.  But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Currently I live in Milwaukee and for a long time I thought (or at least hoped) that I could maybe just make it work here; it is technically a theater town.  Add to that the fact that my whole family lives in Wisconsin, my financial situation was not ideal, and my best friend (platonic soulmate) had made it fairly clear to me that she did not wish to move away from Milwaukee.  When I was honest with myself, I knew that I wanted to get out, but there were so many things holding me back from making the jump.  

As soon as the thought of moving away entered my head, Anxiety would perk up.  Always eager to be the backseat driver, it would shout things like, “Isn’t life here good enough for you?  You’ve got a roof over your head, a job that allows you to pursue your passion, and you’re perfectly healthy.  Be grateful for what you have and stop expecting something more!” 

I attended a workshop for other playwrights from the area and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I didn’t have a lot in common with many of them.  Discussions and questions whirled around about how we find time to write, where we get inspiration, and how we format a script properly.  Some of the writers present had never even finished a full script.  I certainly am not bringing this up in order to shame anyone, but it was an eye-opening experience for me.  Was I a proverbial big fish in a little pond?

My anxiety had an opinion for that, too.  

“Wow!  Way to be egotistical, D!  You think you’re so much better than everyone here?  Get over yourself!  You’re not special.  You’re just another ‘artist’ who thinks they’ve got something special to say!”

A few weeks later I was at my cousin’s wedding and after the ceremony, he approached me to offer congratulations for all the success I’ve had…only to then immediately cut me off guard with the question, “So when are you moving to New York?”  As the groom, he was quickly called away for photographs and I never really got to answer his question.  

If this moment had been in a play, the spotlight would have hit me right then and there and I would have begun some contemplative soliloquy where I openly pondered, “New York, eh?  Maybe I should go to New York!”

Obviously, as a theatre person, the idea of moving to New York had crossed my mind; it’s the theatre capital of the US for obvious reasons.  But, at the same time, New York just didn’t feel like me.  (I have a lot of opinions on NYC, especially when it comes to the outrageous ticket prices.  When it costs a small fortune to see a Broadway show, art becomes a luxury rather than a necessity.  But that’s a rant for another day.)  It certainly seemed daunting, and every good dream should be at least a little daunting.  But New York was daunting without being exciting.  It felt like something I should do…something that was expected of me.

LA didn’t do it for me, either.  Nor Seattle.  I considered many locations, but nothing really made me sit up and take notice.  I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into debt and throw away a good thing unless it was something that truly excited me…something that was enticing enough to spark a change.  

Again, Anxiety spoke up, “Calm the fuck down, D!  New York?  Even if that is what you wanted, they’d eat you alive there!  You’re a soft midwestern girl who can’t take criticism and cries at the drop of a hat!  You really think you could handle New York or LA?  Also, the cost of living in any of those places is way more than you will ever hope to make!  Stick with Submission Helper.  Stick with the contests and the festivals.  Go back to dreaming only as big as The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre.  Sit down and shut up!”

It may have gone on like this…if not for the summer of 2023.

Close your eyes and picture it: WGA strike, Barbenheimer, The Eras Tour, OceanGate, the Grimace Birthday shake…and in the midst of it all, I was having an epiphany.  

A favorite television show of mine dropped its latest season and I eagerly pulled out the Chardonnay and the popcorn to binge it all.  The vast majority of the show takes place in London and features several actors whom I admire greatly.  Between the giggles, sobs, and various twists and turns of the emotional rollercoaster that was Season 2, something all at once occurred to me.

This is what I want.  

That’s where I want to be.  

I want to move to the United Kingdom.

Was it daunting?  Hell yeah, it was daunting.  

And it was exciting.  

It was a dream that excited me.  

It burned inside me.  

It raged.

It burned so hot that I didn’t know what to do with it.  I paced around my tiny apartment, simply stunned by the prospect of it all.  

Anxiety was in the process of drinking a quad shot espresso con panna and promptly did a spit take upon hearing this new idea.  In a frenzied panic, it bellowed, “Are you nuts?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  YOU can’t move to the UK!  It would be so difficult!  You’d need to apply for a Visa…or something like that!  Do you even know how to apply for a Visa!”  

“No,” I metaphorically replied, “but I could learn.”

“I bet it’s super difficult!” Anxiety shot back, trembling in fear, “I bet it’s expensive and complicated and you’ll never figure it out!  I bet your sense of humor wouldn’t translate!  I bet you’d end up broke and living under a bridge and crying because you threw away this good thing you had!”

For a split second, Anxiety almost won…but somehow, prompted by the promise of this new dream, I dared to ask, “But what if it worked out?  What if I could figure it out?  What if I somehow scraped up the money and did the research and filed the paperwork and just made it work?”

If it were a play, I would have been standing center stage, staring out into the audience like some kind of dramatic hero and whispering hopefully, “Yes…what if…?”  

It has been a long road to get here, but, despite what Anxiety likes to tell me, I did figure it out.  The process has been stressful enough to induce atypical Shingles and a few anxiety attacks, but it’s happening.  It’s actually happening!

This October I’m going to grad school at the University of Essex where I’ll pursue my masters degree in Scriptwriting.  I’ll hone my skills as a playwright while learning the ins and out of writing for film, television, and radio.  I’ll take the train into London on the weekends and see every show I can at the National Theatre.  I’ll get new life experiences.  I’ll do my best to explore every inch of that beautiful island.  I’m going to do something new because it’s scary and, most importantly, it’s exciting.  

(To add to the awesomeness of this new adventure, my best friend (platonic soul mate) is moving with me and pursuing her own dreams of studying acting…also at the University of Essex.)

My “death” was not as dramatic or world-changing as Jesus’s, but it gave way to a new life for me.  The power of storytelling combined with a newfound confidence was enough to catapult me into something new, something different.    

And I know you’re wondering what show I was watching that prompted this sudden change; if you know anything about me, you’ve probably guessed it already.  

Along with seeing as much theatre as I can on my visits to London, I also plan to have surreptitious meetings at The Bandstand, feed ducks some frozen peas at St. James’s Park, and maybe help avert an apocalypse (or two).  My birthday is in January and it just so happens that Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming around that time; perhaps on my winter holiday, I’ll put myself onto a train and take myself up to Edinburgh.  I have so many thoughts on what could possibly happen next to my favorite angel and demon…but that’s a rant for another day.

(Fun fact: I say this line at least once a week...if only to myself.)

[ineedhaikyu]

Chapter One

Summary: How does Asahi find himself in these situations? He wasn’t the tough and scary guy everyone made him out to be. Why can’t someone just give him a chance? That’s what he thought until he met her…

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: So much FLUFF! Dealing with self-doubt and anxiety. I didn’t write Atsumu’s slang dialogue but maybe I’ll edit in the future.

A/N: My contribution to Asahi x Reader content. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEST BOY!! GIF credit to @akaashikoutarou

~

Today is the day. January 5th. Everyone’s hard work and determination will be put to the test on this day. A day where volleyball teams from all over Japan, the best from each prefecture, will meet with one another and have a chance to battle on the orange court. 

Today marks Day One in the All Japan High School Volleyball Championship. Otherwise known as the Spring Tournament.

The victor of each battle will be one step closer to reaching the summit, a place that is only reserved for one winning team. 

But until then, each team must go through the wringer and the emotional ties that come when playing the best of the best. Not only are the team members fighting for themselves to place a respectable standing in the tournament, they are also carrying the weight of their school’s pride and honor on their shoulders. The pressure that the Spring Tournament has always been great, but it’s even greater for those teams who are participating for the first time.

Teams such as the Karasuno High School Volleyball team.

A twelve member volleyball team from the Miyagi prefecture. For the past few years, Karasuno has fallen from their powerhouse status, but it seems that has all changed. Because now, here they are competing in the Spring Tournament for the first time in years.

Their methods of offense and defense were amazing to watch. It was almost too beautiful to describe but then again the concept is all the same: just keep the ball in play. 

“(Y/N)-san!” 

The third-year manager tore her gaze away from the orange court to meet with the familiar brown eyes of Miya Atsumu, the second-year setter of their volleyball team. 

“Hey Atsumu.” She greeted the popular setter with a smile before scanning the area around them. “Where’s Osamu?”

“That scrub is probably stuffing his face.” He huffed as he stood next to her. His eyes peered down at the active court. “What are you even doing here?”

(Y/N) followed his gaze and smiled. “Just want to check out the competition. I’m curious as to who our next opponent will be.”

“Who’s playing?”

“Tsubakihara Academy and Karasuno High.”

Atsumu furrowed his brow at the mention of the latter school. He’s sure that Goody-Two Shoes setter came from there. 

“Are they any good?”

He waited for her answer but when he didn’t receive one, the twin looked at her. Usually the older girl always had an answer for his questions, however silly the questions were. It was something Atsumu liked about (Y/N). No matter what silly antics he, his twin, and the rest of the volleyball team partook in, (Y/N) was always there to keep them in check. It was something Aran and Kita, her best friends, valued her for and the coach couldn’t agree more. 

Of course, there were times she played along with their shenanigans. It was why she got along so well with everyone on the team. As a manager, the girl knew there were times to be serious but also to just enjoy the moments with the best team she ever had. Even the annoying moments of Suna and the Miya twins prying into her non-existent love life. Take the conversation she had with them from last week.

Flashback

“You rejected another guy, (Y/N)-senpai.” Osamu commented as he ate his lunch. “How many is that now?”

His twin answered for her. “I’m pretty sure that makes him Unlucky Schmuck #5. But that guy didn’t even have a chance.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) stopped taking her notes and decided to indulge in the conversation. “And why’s that? Kenji’s a nice guy.”

“Easy because he’s boring. You don’t want to date a boring guy, do you?”

“The most interesting thing about him is that he’s on the basketball team.” Osamu piped in, reaching over the table to get some of her chips. “He’s not even on the starting line up.”

“His last post was just a picture of the ocean.” Suna piped in, his eyes showed so much disinterest in Unlucky Schmuck #5’s profile account. He showed his phone to her. “See?”

“So? That doesn’t mean he’s boring. Besides, I like the ocean. That’s why I liked his post.”

Suna rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. He leaned all his weight over (Y/N)’s shoulder. “That’s because you’re nice.”

“Sometimes too nice.” She grumbled as she jerked her shoulder so Suna could get off her and then slap the gray haired twin’s hand away from her chips. She looked back at Atsumu and said, “But I’m still waiting for the right guy to come around.”

The setter grinned. “Then quit waiting because I’m right here.”

Osamu and Suna scoffed, which irked Atsumu. “Aren’t you Unlucky Schmuck #1?”

“Am not!”

“Got the video on my phone if you want to relive it again.” Suna smirked as he taunted Atsumu with a wave of his phone. The video was pure gold. No way was he going to delete it. He needed all the memories, especially embarrassing moments of the Miya twins.

“Well, I’m glad you three are so interested in my love life but I already have my hands full dealing with you guys. I don’t need a jealous boyfriend on top of your crazy fangirls. My anxiety would not be able to handle it. Besides, nationals are literally next week. ”

The twins pouted in unison when the manager mentioned their fangirls. 

“Then get a guy who’ll understand. I’m sure there’s someone-”

“I’m right here-!” Atsumu exclaimed but was cut short when his twin hit the back of his head and at the same time Suna kicked his foot. “Quit abusing me!”

Suna ignored him and continued on. “Whoever this schmuck is, he’s going to be the luckiest guy in Japan.”

“He better be good at volleyball.” Atsumu grumbled, his head on the table. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Osamu joined his twin’s line of thinking. “Preferably from a powerhouse. The guy can’t be from a weak team. And cook some good food.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at the Miya twins. Of course, they would say something like that. She looked back at Suna and asked, “Do you have a requirement for my future significant other?”

Suna thought for a moment before answering her question. “As long as he cares for you.”

“Thanks Suna.” 

“But the moment he hurts you,” Atsumu began.

“He has to deal with everyone on the team.” Osamu finished his brother’s sentence.

(Y/N) grinned at their protectiveness. “Thanks Unlucky Schmuck #1 and #2.”

“Hey!”/ “Don’t call me that!” The twins exclaimed in unison causing the middle blocker and manager to laugh once more.

End of Flashback

“Earth to (L/N) (Y/N)! Can you hear me, manager? This is future champion setter, Atsumu, speaking! Talk to me!”

(Y/N) blinked and tore her eyes away from the orange court. “Huh? What did you say?”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes and leaned close to (Y/N)’s face, causing the girl’s face to heat up. She quickly stepped back and looked away from the twin’s observant gaze. 

“What?” She asked him.

“Who were you looking at?”

“No one in particular. Just Karasuno's team in general.” 

She answered way too quickly and they both knew it. Atsumu grinned at his senpai’s poor attempt to lie. “Someone caught your eye?”

“Shouldn’t you be practicing your sets?”

“Oh no, don’t you avoid my question, (Y/N). Besides, my sets are perfect.” He turned his focus on the volleyball players that were still competing below. “Who’s the guy? Better not be that Goody-Two Shoes.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Karasuno’s #9. Kageyama Tobio.”

She looked at the roster and found the person Atsumu was talking about. She then looked back at the match that was still playing. 

“Wait a minute. Is this the same Goody-Two Shoes that you met at the National training camp?”

Atsumu huffed and nodded. His eyes narrowed at the impressive set Tobio just did. “Yeah, that’s him alright. Piece of work that guy. Always setting the ball exactly how the spiker wants it. Such a Goody-Two Shoes.”

“Oh my god, Atsumu. He’s just a first year student. Give him a break.” She paused for a moment before she asked, “Did you actually call him a Goody-Two Shoes?

The Inarizaki setter was just about to answer when he saw the familiar glare on his manager’s face. “Of course not.”

“You’re such a liar.” She scolded him as she flicked his forehead. “You always have to psych someone out and cause trouble.”

“Whatever! It’s not like I hurt his feelings. I was just telling him the truth. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

Just as she was about to reply, there was the familiar sound of a volleyball being slammed to the ground. Soon after, the announcer’s voice echoed throughout the stadium. “And Karasuno’s ace, Azumane Asahi, just did a flawless service ace!”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched for the mentioned ace. #3. The third-year wing spiker. A guy with long brown hair styled in a bun. He looked older than the rest of the team with his tall and strong build and with the service ace earlier, Azumane has proven himself that he’s the ace of the team.

He looked intimidating, just like how Aran would be when he was on a roll. But for some reason, Karasuno’s ace, didn’t scare her. 

‘It’s his smile. He has a beautiful smile.’ (Y/N) thought as she watched the ace high-fived his teammates. ‘It looks like he’s enjoying himself… Having the time of his life.’

The pair of students watched the match until it reached its conclusion with Karasuno winning the second set. Which means they’ll advance to the second round where they’ll face their own team. Tomorrow’s match: Inarizaki vs Karasuno. It will be an interesting match that would guarantee to excite the crowd.

“Well, at least we know who we’re going to beat tomorrow.” Atsumu’s eyes shimmered in excitement, knowing tomorrow’s match will be a battle between setters. He couldn’t wait to prove to everyone who the better setter was. “Come on, (Y/N), let’s get out of here. The team is probably waiting for us to go out for lunch.”

“Sure.” 

As Atsumu led the way, (Y/N) looked over her shoulder where her eyes landed on the members of Karasuno’s volleyball team cheering for joy. The ace’s smile was infectious as she felt her own lips smile as well. 

~

“Hey, Atsumu. You go ahead. I want to buy another T-shirt while I’m here. I’ll catch a bus to the hotel.”

“You sure? I can wait-” Atsumu’s stomach decided it was the perfect moment to announce its hunger out loud. 

(Y/N) laughed as the setter tried to cease his stomach’s rumbling. “Just go, ‘Tsumu. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Fine! But hurry, will you? You know how ‘Samu gets when he’s hungry.”

The two parted ways. It always surprised her how large the crowd gets during intermission. She had to dodge and weave to avoid the hurdle of students carrying band instruments. She was successful and luckily the T-shirt stand was right there. There were so many options to consider and she was just about to make a selection when there was a sudden loud CRASH. 

The noise caused her to stiffen in fright, she looked behind her to find someone had dropped a pair of cymbals.

“Can someone pick those up?” A girl asked her bandmates.

“I got them.” A bright-eyed boy volunteered.

(Y/N) remembered to breathe to calm her nerves as she gave the worker of the T-shirt stand a wobbly smile. “Can I have-”

“Hey, you! Look out!”

While the boy meant to be helpful, everything went downhill from there. When the boy bent down to pick up the cymbals, he accidentally bumped the nearby bass drum causing it to fall out of its little wagon. The large drum began to roll away, causing the crowd to panic. 

(Y/N) looked behind her and saw that the drum was heading right towards her. She was just about to move when she felt a warm hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the way. She watched as two guys her age, one with dark hair and the other with silver hair, stopped the drum from crashing into the T-shirt stand. 

“A-Are you okay, miss?” A male’s voice, deep with concern, asked her. “Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks for that-” (Y/N)’s ability to talk disappeared when she saw the face of her hero. It was Karasuno’s ace, Azumane Asahi. 

And he looked even more handsome up close. She had to step back - not because she was scared of him but because she could feel her heart going into overdrive being so close to the guy she was beginning to have a crush on.

“Miss?”

‘He’s talking to you, dummy! Talk back!’

“Oh, um, yeah! Thanks again.” (Y/N) gave him a smile. “You’re Azumane, right? From Karasuno? I just watched your match. You were amazing, especially with that service ace.”

Asahi’s POV

A girl was talking to him. 

A pretty girl. Willingly talking. To him. 

It was enough to cause his brain to short circuit. He waited for the girl to come to her senses and realize that she was supposed to be scared of him, like how everyone else he came across. But to his surprise, the pretty girl was still talking to him. She didn’t have an ounce of fear in her eyes and the gentle smile she gave him made him feel better about himself. And to make matters even better, she was giving him compliments.

And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Daichi and Suga came up on either side of him and saw the girl. Asahi didn’t have to look at them to know his friends were giving each other a knowing smile behind his back.

The two introduced themselves to the girl who in turn introduced herself.

“My name is (L/N) (Y/N). I’m from Inarizaki High School in Hyōgo. I came here with my team.”

“You must be really good if you made it to Nationals.” Suga complimented.

She shook her head. “Oh no. I’m just the manager for the volleyball team. I was just telling your ace here how good your team was during your match.”

“We were nervous at first but we managed to get through this round.” Daichi told her. “The other team surprised us with that underhand serve.”

“Really? You manage to adapt to it very well.”

“We couldn’t have done it without this guy!” Suga slapped his hand against Asahi’s back. “Would you believe me if I told you he was single?”

“S-Suga!” He shouted in embarrassment. “W-Why w-would you say that?!”

“Oh come on, Asahi,” Daichi placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’s not like he’s lying. Besides, we're all single too.”

“Y-Yeah but that doesn’t mean she is.”

“Sorry to break the news but I’m single just like you.” 

He was shocked to hear that the girl in front of him was actually single. She was breathtaking. Literally. And she was so nice to him.

“My team thinks otherwise. They keep pushing me to have a boyfriend, but I have my hands full managing them and their crazy fangirls. A jealous boyfriend isn’t something I need, you know?”

“Oh, well, that’s reasonable. Maybe you need to find someone who’s understanding,” Suga elbowed his side. “Right, Asahi?”

“U-Um yeah?” What is Suga up to?

“It’s a good thing there are guys, like Asahi, in the world. He’s actually quite sensitive. The only time he feels confident is when he’s on the court.”

“Daichi, what are you doing?” He whispered, the heat from his neck began to crept onto his face. Is his face red? Can she tell?

“Oh, no. Look at the time. Daichi, we need to go.” Suga announced, grabbing the captain’s shoulders and pushing him in a random direction. “We have that meeting with the coach. Right now. Remember?”

“That’s right, Suga.” Daichi gave him a knowing smile, a smile that he knew meant trouble. “Asahi, why don’t you stay here with (L/N)? Make sure she’s safe from any more runaway instruments.”

“It was nice meeting you two! Good luck tomorrow! You’re going to need it. The boys of the Inarizaki team love a good challenge. Don’t disappoint them.”

“Right back at you.”

He watched as his friends walked away, leaving him alone with the girl who caused his anxiety to skyrocket to a whole new level. Not even Kiyoko made him feel like this.

“You're lucky to have such good friends, Azumane.” She told him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. “I bet there’s never a dull moment when you three are together.”

He laughed as he rubbed his neck out of habit. “Been that way since we were first years. Though the first and second years bring all the crazy.”

“I know exactly what you mean. The second years on the team love making my life crazy. I love them but sometimes they can be a bit much. Especially during Nationals. Speaking of which, is this your first time?”

“Yeah. And with this being my last year, I guess I should be grateful that I’m even here.”

He was so lost in his own world of self-deprecation that he didn’t notice what she was doing. Not until her fist punched his chest. It wasn’t gentle or strong, somewhere in between, but her touch didn’t surprise him. 

It was her eyes that surprised him. They seemed to shine with determination and, for some reason or another, inspire confidence. Even her voice was firm.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Asahi. Your team didn’t get here by chance. You all earned a spot here. You deserve to be here.”

Was it possible for a heart to beat so hard against a person’s ribs? Maybe it’s a medical condition? Because never before had he felt so anxious yet empowered. He wondered if (Y/N) could feel his heart underneath her hand. 

“I’m not saying you should just get over yourself because we all have experienced some level of negative emotion in our lives, right? And it’s not as easy as turning a page in a book. Trust me I know. So believe me when I say this, it’s okay to express those feelings. Maybe one day, you’ll find solace in someone.”

There was another feeling. He couldn’t find a label for it, but he could describe it. A warm sensation that bloomed from his chest to every cell in his body the moment she said his name. Not his surname. His actual name. Asahi. His brain felt as though it had melted inside his skull. But by some miracle, he found his voice again.

“You… You think so?” He asked her. “About me being here?”

Why was he asking her this? Just a few minutes ago, she was a stranger. She could just lie to make him feel better but he had a feeling (Y/N) wasn’t like that. 

“Are you kidding? I saw it with my own eyes.” She stepped back and mimicked a serve. The smile on her lips complimented the excitement in her eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of players these past three years, all of them possessing some kind of amazing skill. But you’re… Special.”

“Because I’m the ace?”

She smiled up at him. “That’s part of it, but if I’m being honest here I think you’re special even without the title of ace. The match from today proved it to me and I’m sure you’ll see it soon enough.”

“See what?”

“Your true self-worth.”

Normal POV

(Y/N) watched as Asahi mulled over her words and she hoped it gave him some confidence. While she didn’t know him all too well, Asahi looked like a nice enough guy. A bit self-conscious about his abilities, but hopefully she helped him loosen the strangling roots of insecurity that surrounded him.

Why did she care so much in helping him? Well, he did save her. The least she could do is give him some encouragement. She frowned at the thought. No… There must be something else she could do to give her thanks…

Her eyes wandered to the T-shirt stand and an idea was formed.

“Hey Asahi-san, let me buy you a T-shirt. It’s the least I could do since you saved me and all.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Really. As long as you're okay-”

She shook her head, grabbed his hand, and led him to the T-shirt stand. “Come on, please. You can choose whatever shirt you like. Consider it a gift.”

“G-Gift?” Asahi stammered and she couldn’t help but find his stammering cute. “From you?”

A small chuckle escaped her lips. “Yes from me. It wouldn’t make sense if it was someone else. Let me do this for you.”

Asahi contemplated for a moment before agreeing. The worker of the T-shirt stand, who watched their interaction the whole time, was extremely kind to them as (Y/N) picked her choice as well. Asahi stood awkwardly by, waiting for the transaction to be finished.

“You two would make a cute couple.” The worker said, quiet enough so only she could hear. “You should go for him.”

“You think so?” (Y/N) asked as she discreetly peered over her shoulder to look at the guy who made her feel all warm and fuzzy. 

“Believe it or not,” The worker handed her the two bags, hers and Asahi’s, “Before the whole chaos started, you already caught his eye. His two friends tried to get him to talk to you but I guess he was too nervous.”

(Y/N) smiled widely at this. Maybe he liked her too? She hoped so because the feeling was definitely mutual. Only one way to find out...

“Hey, do you have a pen and paper I can use?”

~

Turns out the two third-years were heading in the same direction. By some cosmic fate, Asahi and his team were staying at the inn right next to the hotel she was staying in with her own team. So during the whole bus ride there, they got to know more about each other.

Asahi learned about (Y/N)’s favorite foods, hobbies, and even her future dream of attending the university in Tokyo. He laughed at the stories she shared about the Inarizaki team members. And (Y/N) was happy to learn more about him. She learned that he was close to the libero of his team, he has taste in fashion, and that his birthday just passed four days ago.

All too soon, they reached their destination. They walked side by side until they reached the point where the path forked, one way led to her hotel while the other led to Asahi’s inn.

She turned to face him and flashed him another smile. “Thanks for your company, Asahi-san. It was really nice getting to know you.”

“Same here, (Y/N)-san.” Asahi replied, his voice no longer nervous around her. “And thanks again for the shirt. I’ll make sure to take care of it. I want it to last for years.”

“It’s no problem. After all, you did save me.” Her fingers rubbed the plastic material of her bag out of nerves. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, see you.” 

Asahi’s POV

With her back turned, there was sudden pull in his heart, as if begging for her to stay.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

He was surprised to hear his voice sound so firm but she brought that feeling out of him. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. He enjoyed talking to (Y/N). She was so understanding, kind, and ever so confident. Their time together felt so short but at the same time so long. Those moments with her… He wanted more of those moments. 

And the moment his eyes met with her hopeful ones, he knew he had to at least try to ask for her number.

“Yes, Asahi?”

Oh, god. She looked so pretty… He wondered if (Y/N) knew the effect she has on him. The initial confidence he had was beginning to fade, but he steeled his nerves and took a deep breath.

“I was wondering, i-if it’s okay with you, that w-we could-”

“(Y/N)-SENPAI!” A guy with blond hair called out to her.

Right next to him was another guy, identical to the first only with silver hair, yelled, “WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU! I’M STARVING!”

“WHAT ‘SAMU SAID!”

‘They must be the Miya twins.’ He thought.

(Y/N) sighed before answering back, “Give me a minute!” She turned back and offered him a sheepish look. “Sorry about that Asahi. What were you saying?”

Over her shoulder, he saw the Miya twins frowning at him all the while staring daggers in his direction. His confidence, the little bit he had in supply, disappeared into thin air. He stammered out a reply, “Never mind. U-Um… Get a good night’s sleep. T-Take care of yourself.”

(Y/N)’s smile melted. Was that disappointment in her eyes? But she quickly recovered and offered him a bittersweet smile, “Oh, um, thanks Asahi. Good luck tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” She turned around and began to make her way to the twins when stopped in her tracks. “Oh, and Asahi-san?”

“Yeah?” He felt his heart hitch up to his throat when they made eye contact once again. Her eyes were a lovely shade of (E/C) filled with warmth and kindness. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself the next few days. Remember what I said. Your team is lucky to have you as their ace. So do your best tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She glanced down at the plastic bag containing the shirt she bought for him. “I hope you like the shirt. Consider it a birthday gift from me.”

And with that, the girl he developed to have feelings for walked away, but not before she gave one last smile that made his heart expand three times its size. 

~

“Asahi! You’re back!” Nishinoya’s loud voice echoed throughout the room where Karasuno's team was staying. “Is what Daichi and Suga are saying true? You met a girl?!”

Tanaka joined in his friend’s interrogation. “Yeah, Asahi! Daichi didn’t want to say anything but Suga said you saved her life!”

“Was she pretty?”

“What school does she go to?”

“What was she like?”

“What’s her name?”

“We need details!” The two second-years yelled out in unison. Their eyes shimmering in excitement as they waited for answers. 

“Uh, w-well…”

“Alright, that’s enough you two.” Daichi grabbed their shirt collars and pulled them back. “Give Asahi a break. He’s had an eventful day.”

“Yeah, come on, Asahi, let's get you a drink from the vending machine.” Suga offered, his hand already pushing him out of the room.

“I’m not thirsty-”

“Yes, you are.” Suga interrupted. “Our treat. Well, Daichi’s treat since he’s buying.”

The trio of third-years walked downstairs and true to Suga’s words, Daichi bought them a round of their favorite drink.

“Okay, spill! Don’t leave out a single detail. I want to know everything.” Suga pressed, just as Nishinoya and Tanaka were a few minutes ago.

“Suga, calm down.” Daichi told him. “You're worse than Nishinoya and Tanaka combined.”

“Oh, come on, Daichi,” Suga complained. “You want to know just as badly as I do.” 

“Ok, fine.” The captain admitted before turning to the ace. “So how did it go with (Y/N)?”

“Details.” Suga reminded him. 

So he told his friends everything that happened when they left them alone. How she raised his spirits, believing in his self-worth as an ace. How her words inspired him. How she made him feel nervous one moment and confident the next. How she bought him a new shirt as a gift.

“She sounds awesome for you, Asahi.” Suga complimented. “And if I remember correctly, doesn’t she fit your description of your ideal dream girl?”

“I mean- Yeah. She’s great but-”

Daichi interrupted him. “But what, Asahi? You're both single and you’re definitely interested in each other.”

“How do you know that? I mean she did say she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.”

“She said she didn’t need a jealous boyfriend.” Daichi reminded him. “You’re the most sensitive guy I know.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“This time it is.”

“Seriously, Asahi,” Suga placed his hand on his shoulder. “Why do you think I highlighted your star qualities? You take other people’s feelings into account. She helped build your confidence. And you just told us, how you had a great time talking to her where it sounds like she did too. You’re literally perfect for each other.”

“You think so?” He asked, sounding hopeful. “I do like her. Do you think she likes me?”

“Dude, she wasn’t scared of you, she held down a meaningful conversation with you, and she even bought you a shirt.” Suga listed, his grin growing by the minute. “(Y/N) likes you.”

The small flame of hope in his heart, fueled by his friends’ words, began to burn brightly. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Even if she’ll be on the sidelines on the opposing team’s side, he’ll still be happy.

“So what will you do next, ace?” Daichi asked, crossing his arms. Suga did the same thing as they waited for a response. “Will you let this opportunity slip away?”

“No way.”

His friends grinned, happy to see their glass-hearted friend sound so confident.

~

It was nightfall. Everyone took a rain check and turned in early, knowing that the next day will be just as hard as the first. The only person not asleep was him. He volunteered to shower last as it gave him the chance to relive the afternoon.

How was he going to talk to her tomorrow? Will she want him to talk to her? His team is playing against hers tomorrow… If they win tomorrow, will she be angry and ignore him? 

Shaking his head at the thought, he finished his nightly routine. He decided to wear the shirt (Y/N) bought for him. He grabbed the bag and unfolded the shirt. Carefully as if it was woven by the most precious fabric in the world. In his mind, the T-shirt was a treasure given to him by an angel.

For some reason, he recalled (Y/N)’s words, ‘So believe me when I say this, it’s okay to express those feelings. Maybe one day, you’ll find solace in someone.’

He hoped she believed that to be true because he might have found that someone. 

The sound of paper falling caught his attention. At first he thought it was just the discarded T-shirt tags, when his eyes landed on a simple piece of folded notebook paper in the sink. He picked it up, unfolded it, and his heart stopped for the third time? Fourth? Maybe fifth?

In clean and elegant handwriting, the note displayed:

I hope this isn’t weird of me to do this, but I didn’t want to lose this chance. So this is me making the first move because while I try to play it cool, you make me nervous. (Hard to believe, right?) Anyways, this is my number: XXX-XXX-XXXX. 

We can just talk if you want. You seem like a cool guy and I still want to get to know you. If you don’t, I’ll understand. Anyways, I’ll cut this note short. Good luck tomorrow! Don’t hold back against Inarizaki. 

P.S: I hope your friends were telling the truth earlier.

~

Normal POV

(Y/N) ditched her cards the moment she heard her phone let out a small ding, signaling a new message.

“Hey, you can’t just do that in the middle of the game!” Atsumu’s voice called out.

She ignored him as she jumped on her bed and grabbed her phone. Her heart was racing as she quickly unlocked her phone, but then it expanded at the sight of the message that read:

Hey, it's Asahi. Is this (Y/N)-san?

Her face broke into a wide smile. Her thumbs danced over the keyboard as she typed out a reply:

Asahi! Yeah, it’s me. I’m glad you found my note.

She watched as the three dots appeared, signaling that Asahi was typing. God, he has no idea the effect he has on her.

It was a nice surprise. A bit of a shock, but it’s very much welcomed. The shirt fits by the way. I think it’s my new favorite. 

Another message appeared after the first and she felt every atom in her body seemed to explode after reading it.

By the way, my friends were telling the truth. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

~

This was the first page of a story where two individuals found solace in one another.

~

Next: Chapter 2

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Rimming Freminet

Pairings: Freminet x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom!reader, sub!Freminet, rimming, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers/FWB

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Author's Note: A request from a few months ago that I misinterpreted. Here's the rimming version for you, anon! As usual Freminet is 20+

Check out the trans Freminet version!

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

The words fell from his lips often. “I'm weak...I'm not strong enough...if only I were stronger, then maybe I could protect the ones I love...I need to get stronger!”

You couldn't stop the empathetic ache in your chest whenever your friend uttered those words. After all, you knew all too well what that felt like. That stinging guilt from thinking that you could have done something differently. You could have been faster, stronger, shouldn't have done that, should have done this...you beat yourself down until those thoughts hinder any potential progress

You've been there too, so that's why you wanted to help him. Offering to train him, pass along a few techniques, tricks, and tips from your time out in the field

Freminet was just a tad reluctant but eventually he agreed, promising to work hard during each session. A handshake sealed the deal as you grinned at him, excited to tutor your friend while also spending more time with him!

The first session was a bit clumsy. You said “Don't hold anything back” and Freminet hadn't planned on getting cold feet but... standing before you with his hefty weapon clutched between his hands? And you, his best friend, standing opposite of him with balled fists and your shining vision ready to unleash a skill? A shaky breath slipped between his lips while his arms unconsciously lowered. How could he seriously charge at you? He knows that it's just training, that you'll both come out of this with only minor injuries if anything. He knows that. But some deep recess in his mind won't let him move

From your perspective it really seemed like the beginning of a panic attack. Freminet looked as though he were glued in place, wobbly muscles giving out and releasing his grip on the claymore while his chest heaved. You immediately straightened up, disappearing your weapon before rushing over to the paralyzed boy and cupping his cold cheeks in your hands. The surge of warmth from your touch appeared to melt Freminet right out of the frozen state that he'd been in as his hands lightly covered yours, apologizing for chickening out after you took the time out of your day to meet him like this...

“No, you don't need to apologize, Frem. It's ok. Don't push yourself, alright? Let's just leave it there for the day and relax, we can work through this another time, yeah?”

The sigh of relief was instantaneous as your reassurance calmed the cryo user's nerves. With a huge weight lifted from his chest Freminet breathed a quiet reply, “Yeah...ok. Thank you, y/n.”

-

A few weeks had passed and your training sessions gradually improved to the point where Freminet and yourself could clash weapons with no problems. You spent days helping him overcome his anxiety about sparring with his friend and now you were able to help him work through his problem areas. Speed training, technique tweaking, incorporating his clockwork friends into his attacks. Everything was taken into account with your training. The one thing you didn't account for was the way your body reacted to being pressed up against your friend, or the thoughts that began to run through your mind as you watched Freminet in the heat of battle; Sweaty. Panting. Groaning. On his knees sometimes. That fierce glint in his eye whenever he charged at you...

-

Frigid ice collided with your elemental skill as elemental particles dispersed in the air, reacting with one another while the two of you stood on opposite ends of the training ground. Locked in heated combat for over an hour now, the effects of this rigorous match were starting to show as attack times became a hair slower, muscles ached, breaths became far heavier, and less skills were thrown

Despite all of this, neither of you were willing to give in. Freminet's glare was as sharp as ever; and your playful smirk never left your lips. For the nth time today your friend charged towards you with his claymore held tightly, yelling a battle cry with the intention of finally knocking you down and defeating you. Alas — though you were just as exhausted as he was — you weren't willing to give in just like that

Exhaling a hot puff of air, you prepared to dodge and counter Freminet's terrifying strike. As his heavy sword swung at your head you ducked underneath and to the side, swiftly positioning yourself behind him and using his own momentum to knock him to the ground. You hovered over your friend and pinned one arm behind his back, effectively preventing him from using his weapon or skills easily

“Heh, looks like I win, huh? Unless you think you can break free?” You said triumphantly, daring the boy to turn this around on you somehow

Freminet squirmed under your grasp. He looked like a sea turtle trying to move through sand as his limbs flailed, though it was ultimately no use. You had him pinned enough to keep him down. “N-no... can't...too tired...” He wheezed, slumping onto the ground and giving up all resistance

“I figured... honestly I'm pretty tired too...” You replied. Though that was true, pressed up against Freminet as you were in your current configuration, something sent a surge of energy throughout your aching body. Being in a battle filled with adrenaline and constant quips and teasing on both ends like that got you pretty worked up...there was no hiding nor denying the bulge in your pants anymore. Not while it was poking your friends ass...

Neither one of you dared to say a word right now. Freminet let out one hushed squeak when he realized what was so hard behind him, but the two of you froze in place afterwards. It was blatantly obvious what was happening and you couldn't hide it now. So instead, you just whimpered and shifted your weight so that your hips pressed into him further

“Frem, I...ngh-! Mmm...aaahh~ ” You couldn't stop the moan that slipped out when your friend pushed back against you, gasping as your cock pressed against his hole even through his clothing. “Oh- oooohh ffuuuck~ ” You moaned, humping Freminet right in the middle of the training grounds, panting along with him as lingering adrenaline fueled your hips to rut against each other greedily

“Y-y/n...ah! O-ooohh...” He gasped softly, wishing that you would maybe do something more...hoping that you might give in to whatever feeling caused you to suddenly hump him. Freminet wasn't entirely ready to admit to the feelings that had grown over the years, but right now he didn't really care about the consequences. He wanted you to do more

You felt your cock throb within your pants and you uttered an, “Ah fuck it...” under your breath. Within seconds you had tugged Freminet's pants down and exposed his twitching hole, causing him to shiver as sweaty bare skin was exposed to cold air. Just the sight of his pretty hole — begging to be eaten out by someone's wet tongue and mouth — had drool dripping from your lips. You used your free hand to grope at the soft flesh of Freminet's ass, pulling it a bit to spread his little cheek and expose his hole even more, which earned several whines from your friend

“Shit, Frem...can I?” You asked hesitantly, yet eagerly. Desire building up with every passing second

Freminet didn't know what to think of this... his mind was racing, which in turn caused his heart rate to speed up, pounding in his ears as a long silence fell over the area. He'd never done anything like this before...had no experience in this field yet...but something deep within his gut screamed at him to say yes. He needed it. He didn't even know what he needed. He just needed it. He needed it! Gods yes please– whatever you're asking permission for just do it already! Just–

“Y-yes! Yes...give it to me, y/n~ ” That tone was the sluttiest thing you'd ever heard come out of your friend's mouth...and god did it turn you on...

Immediately, you leaned down and began lapping at Freminet's ass like a thirsty dog. Sucking on his hole as it clenched around nothing, sloppy wet noises filling the air from your mouth the whole time. You finally let go of his arm, confident that he wasn't going to attempt an escape now, and grabbed his tiny hips, pulling his ass further against your face. Suctioned onto his body like the suckers on a tentacle as your tongue licked every bit of his sensitive rim

“Ah-Aaahh—!! Oh my...aaahh~ ” The cryo wielder moaned, rocking his hips back while you continued, neither one of you showed any signs of stopping as your bodies found a rhythm together. You stuck your tongue out and held it in place, moving only your head up and down while Freminet let out another pretty cry. His fingers dug into the ground below him as a new and exciting feeling spread throughout his body

Eventually you pushed your tongue into the wet orifice, breaching Freminet's virgin ass and pulling a shrill scream out of the boy — who made no effort to protest and instead grunted in pleasure before arching his back even more, allowing you to have a better angle for eating him out. Your tongue probed in and out of his little hole while you rubbed his soft cheeks, squeezing the tender flesh and watching it squish in between your fingers

Thank the archons that you picked a day where the training grounds were usually empty, because if anyone walked in on the two of you they would find an embarrassingly obscene picture...

They'd find Freminet's smaller frame arching into every flick and drag of your tongue, torso pressing into the ground while he chased every ounce of pleasure, moaning like a porn star while drool poured from the corner of his mouth–

And they'd find you; pressing your entire face against the smaller man's ass as your wet tongue penetrated his hole. Slurping and kissing the orifice while you also moaned loudly, squeezing Freminet's cheeks and lightly slapping them every so often, eyes rolled back and a huge bulge straining against your pants while you shallowly humped at the air

At this point neither you nor your sparring partner cared about volume control or who might pass by. All your horny brains knew was that they craved the feeling of pleasure. Ushering you to reach around Freminet's tiny waist and take hold of his cock — leaking precum in long, glistening strings that pooled on the floor and clung to his shaking thighs

“Aa-aahh!! Y/n...th-that's my–” Freminet squeaked, unable to prevent himself from thrusting his little hips into your touch. Chasing the sweet relief as your fingers smeared sticky precum all over his cock head and along the shaft. He felt his entire body tremble when you began to stroke it, another source of lewd noises adding to the symphony of sex that your beings performed

Another shaky breath from Freminet told you that he was probably close. So you sped up your ministrations and lapped at his puffy hole faster, moaning against his skin. Sure enough, as your wrist twisted with an upward stroke, Freminet's voice cracked and his dick twitched before shooting a thick load of cum onto the ground. His hips continuing to fuck into your hand sloppily until it hurt–

You eventually unlatched your mouth from his ass, though if you could have you would've eaten him out all night long. For now though, you'd give the boy a rest. Although...

There was one teensy problem.....your dick was painfully hard and you didn't cum, unlike Freminet...

While you don't want to pressure your friend or make things even more awkward between you two, honestly you were about to bust at any moment. If he lets you slip it in just a little bit — just the tip, even — then you'd probably cum right away...it would be over quickly. Just push in a little, cum in your friend's ass, and pull out–

Freminet seemed to notice how you were lost in thought, calling your name quizzically until you blinked back to the present. “Huh? Oh, yeah I'm fine... it's just uh...um, gimme your hand for a second?” At your request, the boy extended a hand out behind him. As it came into contact with something hard, Freminet gasped, the blush on his cheeks returning tenfold. You had placed his little hand on your clothed cock

You pressed his palm down harder, hissing at the spark of pleasure. Beginning to hump his tiny hand as it barely covered your hard member. “Ya feel that? That's all because of you, Frem...I feel like, if I don't cum soon–” A desperate moan spilled from your mouth as Freminet squeezed your dick, now rubbing the outline all by himself

“Pl-please, Frem...can I? ” You whimpered, bucking into his touch as the need to release grew even more

“Y-yes...put it in...give it to me, y/n”

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[scribblesofagoonerr]

The journey to recovery begins now.

Heres the next part! ✌🏼

Let me know what you think? I have a lot of time on my hands currently unable to move much, so this is the result!

Credit to @alotofpockets for giving me the courage to continue to write!

Pairings: beth mead x teen reader, vivianne miedema x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

You never truly appreciated how much you took your knees for granted until it was too late, leaving you to confront the stark reality of their absence during the grueling weeks that followed after your surgery.

The initial stages of your rehabilitation post-surgery, each day felt like an uphill battle against the constraints of limited mobility. Every single step was a painful reminder of your body’s fragility, which left you teetering on the edge of frustration.

The simple tasks you once took for granted now felt like insurmountable challenges, even the thought of walking a few steps sent a wave of discomfort radiating through your knee, serving as a constant reminder of your newfound vulnerability.

Reflecting on the moment that led to this predicament, you can’t help but regret it as your knee injury could have been avoided. Perhaps if you had chosen a different path that fateful night, the outcome would have been drastically different.

“Where are you off to?” Viv’s concerned voice broke through your thoughts, she had virtually been watching over you like a hawk since your return from the hospital.

“I’m just going to the toilet” You muttered, struggling to get up from the sofa but you were just too stubborn to ask for any sort of help.

Vulnerability was something you’d never dealt well with, it was a trait that was deemed unacceptable in your previous harsh upbringing. Weakness was a luxury that you couldn’t afford, it was a lesson that had been ingrained in you from childhood.

You could practically hear the stern cold voice of your biological father as if he were standing directly behind you, whispering into your ear.

“Do you need a hand?” Beth’s offer was laced with genuine concern, finding it difficult to watch you struggle unwillingly.

“No” You snapped, the frustration bubbling to the surface; You hadn’t meant to be so horrible, it was just sometimes easier to revert back to a defensive coping mechanism that you had been conditioned to over the years as you grew up.

“Just know I’m here if you need me” Beth’s reassurance hung in the air, a lifeline amidst the uncertainty.

“Just shout for us if you need anything, okay?” Viv chipped in, reminding you as she watched you limp off in the direction of the bathroom, although there was a weight of worry lingering incase you somehow hurt yourself in there.

Beth noted her girlfriends’ vigilant gaze and softened her expression, “She’ll be alright, Viv. She’s only gone to the loo, remember?” she joked, amusedly.

“I know, I am just worried in case she aggravates her knee or something” Viv admitted her concern, anxiously biting her bottom lip, “She really needs to be cautious” she added.

“It’s okay to be worried, but we have to let her do things for herself” Beth replied, offering comfort to alleviate her girlfriend's anxiety about you, “If needs help then she’ll shout, remember?” she reminded her.

Viv folded her arms, still visibly worried for you as she tried to listen out in case there’s a sudden slip in the bathroom, “I just can’t help but feel anxious, Beth. What if she hurts herself in there?” she repeats her worries.

“I understand, liefje” Beth placed a comforting hand on Viv’s shoulder, “But we have to let her have some independence too. We can’t smother her with our concerns” she explained to the Dutch woman.

“You’re right, I just need to remind myself of that– I just hate that she is going through this. It’s not fair” Viv mumbled, shaking her head.

Beth gently took a hold of Viv’s hand and squeezed it, “It really isn’t fair, but we’re going to do all that we can to support her, every step of the way, no matter what” she declared.

Deep down, you knew your injury wasn’t anyone’s fault, yet your reflex was to just continuously push your loved ones away once more. 

Despite your attempts, it seemed futile, especially with surprise visits becoming a regular occurance.

Apparently, today was no exception.

Unable to start your rehab anytime soon, you found yourself wrapped up in self-pity on your bed, cocooned in blankets and lost in a Netflix TV show that you had zero interest in but since your remote has gone AWOL, it left you with no choice but watch it, but at least Myle was there for company.

“Y/N/N/! We’re here!” Kyra’s unmistakable voice cut through the air, announcing her arrival.

“Kyra, she might be asleep” Alessia’s voice followed through, a touch of caution in her tone.

“Well, she might not be” Kyra retorted, barging into your room with her usual typical energy to find you awake, “See, Less? Told you that she wouldn’t be asleep!” she grinned back at the blonde.

“Wouldn’t have much chance with the way you’re shouting” You mumbled, acknowledging both of their presence.

Alessia offered an apologetic smile, “Hey, Y/N/N. We just wanted to come and see how you’re doing” she explained.

“Oh, you know? I’m fantastic” You words are laced with sarcasm.

“Well, we brought snacks” The blonde attempted to lift your dampened mood, gesturing to the bag of the treats that they had brought you.

“Wonderful” You barely entertain the idea of the sugary treats as you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, disinterested.

“I can tell she’s definitely excited about that” Kyra mocked your enthusiasm, taking hold of the bag from Alessia’s hands.

Alessia shot Kyra a warning look before turning back to you, concern etched on her face, “Hey, Y/N/N, are you okay? Truthfully?” she questioned.

“Just fuckin’ peachy” You sighed dramatically, still refusing to meet their gazes, dismissing them with a wave, “How’d you guys get in, anyway?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Beth let us in before she left” Kyra explained, perching on the end of the bed.

“Oh” You mumbled in agreement.

“Someone’s feeling grumpy today” Kyra teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she started to delve through the bag and pull out a packet of sweets.

You snatched the packet away, tearing it open with unnecessary force, “Wouldn’t you  be if you couldn’t walk with out assistance?” The frustration was evident in your tone of voice.

Kyra raised her hands in mock surrender although the mischief still sparkled in her eyes, “Noted. I’ll steer clear of touchy subjects” she quipped, exchanging a glance with Alessia.

Undeterred, Alessia took a seat beside you, mindful of your injury, “I get it that you’re frustrated, Y/N/N” she said softly, attempting to connect with you.

You rolled your eyes with the irritation simmering, “Well, excuse me for not being in the mood for a pep talk” you remark, your tone sharp.

“Come on, lighten up, mate” Kyra interjected, reclining against the bed’s end with a playful grin.

Ignoring her, you continued to sulk, stuffing more sweets into your mouth  with unnecessary force, not in the mood for conversation.

Alessia sighed as her concern deepend, “I just… I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to. We know what you’re going through is difficult right now” she ventured cautiously.

“I don’t want to talk about it” You snapped, your frustration boiling over, “I just want to talk, that’s all I want. I want to be able to get out of this damn bed and feel normal again!”

“Well if you’re looking for a miracle, I think you’re in the wrong place” Kyra couldn’t resist a quip to wind you up.

“Kyra” Alessia’s reprimand was gentle but firm, signaling an end to the teasing.

A tense silence settled over your room, broken only by the sound of your frustrated sighs and the crinkle of the sweet packet that Kyra continued to help herself too.

“Listen, Y/N/N, we’re here for you, okay?” Alessia told you with a gentle voice, “Whatever you need, whether it's someone to talk to or just in silence together, we’re here” she stated, determinedly.

You met her gaze, your eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and gratitude, even if you were sometimes way too stubborn to admit it, “Thanks, Alessia” you muttered, the harshness of your voice starting to dull as you realised that it wasn’t any good to take your anger out on your team mates, who only wanted to help you.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Kyra leaned forward as her playful demeanour was replaced with genuine concern, “Seriously mate” she said, her voice uncharacteristically serious, “We hate seeing you like this. Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked.

You hesitated to answer, you were torn between your desire for independence and the comfort of having your friends by your side, “I don’t know” you admitted finally, your voice wavering slightly, “I just… I just hate feeling so helpless, you know?” 

Alessia reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as she gently pulled you into her embrace, “It’s okay to feel that way” she said softly, “But you’re not alone in this. We’ll all help you get through it together” she promised you.

For a moment, the weight of your injury felt a little lighter, the burden now shared amongst your friends who refused to let you face it alone.

“Thanks, Lessi. Thanks, Kyra” You mumbled, burying your head in her chest as you allowed yourself to lean on them for their support, knowing no matter how tough the road ahead might be, you wouldn’t have to walk in alone, “Could one of you please pass me the remote? I don’t know what I’m watchin’ but it’s so boring” you muttered, complaining which made the two of them laugh.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[ancient-and-gauntly]

Repayment

Sebastian Sallow x Reader Warnings: Game timeline sort of. Y/N in place of MC the day after sneaking into the library's restricted section. Flirty fluff Summary: After the nights adventure of sneaking into the restricted section, you look for sebastian to thank him for his help ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning after your late night excursion to the library, you hurried through the crowded corridors of Hogwarts, your heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and excitement as you searched for Sebastian Sallow over the heads of other students. You couldn't believe that you had managed to sneak into the restricted section of the library the previous night, all thanks to him, and he had covered for you when the two of you had been caught by Peeves.

As you approached the courtyard, you spotted Sebastian leaning against a stone pillar, a casual smile playing on his lips as he chatted with a group of Slytherins boys. His dark hair was tousled, and his eyes lit up as he saw you approaching. Your cheeks flushed as you remembered the events of the previous night.

"Sebastian!" you called out, catching his full attention. He straightened up and pushed himself off the pillar, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Ah, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here," he chuckles. He jerks his head toward a quieter corner of the yard, ignoring the oohs and ahhs and wolf whistles of his companions. This caused your face to burn even redder. Sebastian just grinned. “Ignore them,” he adds more seriously, turning to catch your gaze once more, grinning mischievously down at you.

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a warmth spreading through you as you beam up at him. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out last night. I wouldn't have made it without your quick thinking."You tell him shly. “I really appreciate your help!”

Sebastian chuckled once more, his gaze never leaving yours. "No need to thank me. I figured you could use a hand, and I must say, it was quite the adventure."

"Well, I appreciate it either way. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

“Now that you mention it,”Sebastian's smirk widened, and he took a step closer, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear that you had been absentmindedly tugging at. "I wouldn't mind another trip to Hogsmeade together, without battling the trolls this time."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Hogsmeade? Just the two of us?"

“Yup,” ”Sebastian leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Just the two of us. No trolls, no repairing town squares or hiding from thugs like Rookwood. Just a nice, quiet day in Hogsmeade." He pulled back, a smug expression on his face as he noticed your blushing. You stood there in silence, mind racing and heart pounding to no end. She couldn't quite understand why she felt this way, but there was something undeniably magnetic about Sebastian.

“I-I suppose we can-”

“Good.” Sebastian grins, turning to head back toward the group of boys he had been in the company of a few minutes prior As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder and added, "Look out for my owl then."

[pinkchaosnight]

• an eternity • (adar x fem!reader)

summary : your husband is adamant to go through his plans for Eregion and you are worried what will happen to him if he does.

pairing: adar x fem!reader

warning: s2 ep8 (do i need to say more?), angst, death

you wrap your hands across your husband's body, resting your head into the crook of his neck. the warmth of his body provided a little comfort to the fact that tomorrow might change everything.

"do you really plan to go tomorrow forward with your plan?" you ask as you feel the beat of his pulse against your cheek, calming your anxiety.

"hmmm" he replies as he continues going through the plan he has drawn. you lay there quietly, relishing in the silence before everything turns to clamour and war noises tomorrow. after a few quiet minutes, he places it in the table, your silence troubling him.

"whats the matter, my love?" he questions as he gently clutch your jaw in his hand, making your troubled eyes meet his.

"nothing, i was just worried. about the fact that we don't know what will happen tomorrow. who will win or lose? and mainly, who all will remain ?"

"are you doubting you me?" his hands let go off your chin as you rise your head from his chest.

"no i am not doubting you my dear. if i ever had any doubt about you, do you think i would abandoned my family and people to come here and stay with you? marry you? be your wife? no it's simply because i am afraid, that something wrong might happen to you. i can't lose you." you say as you caress your hands along the cheeks you so love to kiss.

adar smiles, a warm genuine smile reserved only for you in your private times. "i know, i am sorry for asking . besides i am sure my children won't disappoint me. i have faith in them and their strength. and don't even think about asking me about that topic earlier, i know that look. i absolutely forbid it"

"adar please allow me to fight alongside with you. i was raised as warrior, a swordswoman . please allow me to protect you too. it's the least i can do---"

" what do you mean by 'the least you can do'? you are the one who sacrificed your family and yourself for me. and i never expect anything in return expect for your love. my life has been bleak before i met you. now i have you who i can return to after the sun sets each day, you whose warm lap i can sleep on safely without feeling scared and alone, you who let me change myself for the better. let me protect you and this family, our family, so that in the future we can be safe and happy" he says as he places his hands on the slight curve of your belly.

tears fall down from your eyes, as you watch your husband tenderly touching your belly. it made your heart beat in such a way that makes your chest hurt a little.

adar wipes away your tears as he picks you up in bridal style, carrying you all the way to your shared bed. he lays down, with you resting your head on top of his torso. he wraps his arms around you , as he places a soft kiss in your head.

" nothing bad will happen tomorrow my love. i will return back victorious. you shouldn't cry over this trivial matter, its bad for you and the baby. "

"you are not a trivial matter. i just wish i can stay with you all the time. be with you. share all your worries and ease your pains." you whisper as you kisses his chest, his heartbeat faint against your lips.

" we have all the time in the world after tomorrow's battle. we will have time to see the plains, to gaze upon the wonderful seas. and when our child arrives, we will go on a tour for a whole month. i will consider one month of vacation for ourselves after all this ends. we will be happy again, for eternity. " he says as he trails kisses from your head to your ears.

" you promise me? that you will return to me safely? "

" i promise "

you both lay there in an comfortable silence, the promise of a new era hanging over as it lulls us back to sleep in the comfort of each other's arms.

your intuition was tingling; you could sense something bad was about to happen to your husband, the moment you stepped out into the woods, with your sword in your hands.

the sound of swords clashing and arrows being fired rang in the air, but you couldn't do anything. you refuse to draw arms against the elves, after all you are one yourself. so you go through the woods, avoiding everyone, until a voice catches your attention. your husband's voice. you nudges closer, your hand tightening the handle of the sword and ready to swing at anybody.

you relaxed when you see his orcs surrounding him, your hands loosening slighty. as you walk towards them, horror strickes as fear grasps you.

the orcs were stabbing him, his orcs whom he so loved. "nooooo" a guttural scream came from you as you swing the sword at the orc, decapitating his head. as your eyes found him, laying on the ground with his blood all over him, you couldn't stop the tears gushing from your eyes.

before the orc would stab him more, you places yourself between them, as you plunge the sword in it's heart. but not before it strikes you in the chest, causing you a searing pain that began to spread across ypur body. the orcs try to stab adar in admist of this as his blood splashes across your face. before the next strike occurs, you lie on top of him as you clutch his face searching for any life in them.

you could see a faint eye movement as you looked into his eyes, while your body got another set of stabs before it stabs altogether. you clutch your stomach as you feel an intense pain there, from the stab wound you got. you could feel your child die inside you, making you scream in helplessness. tears and blood mixed together and ran down your face as you didn't have the strength nor the time to govern which one is what.

"please-----adar--my love-----" you croak as a gush of blood rushes out from your mouth.

your husband briefly rises his hand and caress your tears away and you cry more, as you know this will be the last time he does so. you could see sauron and galadriel in your peripheral vision but they didn't matter. nobody and nothing matters , except your husband. nothing else, not even the searing pain and the world closing in on you as you feel your consciousness start to slip.

"i am sorry i.... couldn't fulfil the promise i made. i am sorry i couldn't..see what you were saying and i am sorry i started this war and dragging you to your death too. i wish we could have gone back to the simpler times, when we all had to worry was what to do spare the boredom. i-----" adar chokes as he spits more blood, his breathing slowing down each moment. his hands slowly moves to your stomach, craddling it as if to keep the child safe, making your heart ache. you could feel his heartbeat began to faint against your own chest, mirroring yours.

" did you remember our vows? 'not even death can part us' ? atleast we got that right." you say as you lie on his chest, with your vision blurring each minute.

you can feel him smiling with what energy is left on him. " i love you, my love......i just wish we had gotten more time. i wish we had eternity to raise our child with love that neither of us got. i wish we had the time to travel and revel in the simple beauty of this world. i wish ----" his word's get stuck as he chokes on his blood, his hands caressing your cheek.

" the only good thing is you will be the last thing i see, when my life leaves this scarred body. thank you for giving me chance to love you. i hope you can give it in the next life too." he whisper as he kisses you in your lips.

you kiss him back, tears and blood mixing together. for a minute you feel his hands and mouth on you, before both goes limp and hits the floor, lifelessly.

and just like that he is gone. gone from you, gone from your unborn child you will never see the light of the world and gone from the world that have treated him too cruelly. the hands, the mouth, the soul, the rest of him which you so loved - has left you, has left this plane of existence.

" my love, my husband please come back to me" you scream, as you feel your strength failing you. you fall over his lifeless body, sobbing and clutching. just like you were lying on him yesterday night - but without the faint rising of his chest and the beat of his heart which you so craved for. his eyes is glassy, lifeless as you close it for one last time before pressing a kiss.

" i love you so much that it pains me to leave you. please love me in next life and all the lives after too, my husband." is the last thing you remember whispering in his ears as you closes your eyes for the last time, falling into an eternal slumber in his arms, just like yesterday.

notes - i wrote this after ep 8 (no surprises there), i couldn't handle it so this happened as a part of my coping mechanism 🥹 i am so sorry yall