#ITS HEREEEE 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[thelov3lybookworm]

Ice Cream (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: what is this new flavour in the air? mint chocolate of course. not love...right?

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Word Count: 1935

Warnings: literally just fluff. azzie being a shy baby 🥹hes literally so adorable omg i love him 😭

A/n: YAYYY ITS FINALLY HEREEEE🥳🥳🥳 im going to be posting one more part, most likely on friday, in which these babies finally get together and ic finds out 🥹

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

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Y/n had known the male who bothered her day and night and almost everyday at the bookstore was the spymaster. The shadows gave him away before his dark, mysterious and broody nature could. But she had to wonder.

Was she mistaken?

For surely, no spymaster would be so clumsy and talk to the point of oversharing?

After Y/n had reluctantly let herself believe that this was not some cruel joke the spymaster was centering around her disappointment as the punchline, she had gotten dressed up in one of her better dresses, but tried to make it not overly fancy so as not to seem like she was trying to impress him.

As she had watched the sun descend closer to the horizon, she almost ditched the idea of him ever coming to meet her, and had just grabbed a book to read quietly by the fireplace when the knock on the door made her freeze. Her head had snapped to the door, her disappointment morphing into quiet anticipation. She had turned and set her book down, moving in quick steps towards the door, her light purple skirt swishing around her ankles.

He had been panting when she finally opened the door, a wide, shy smile on his face.

It almost made Y/n give him a wide smile of her own. But she had tamped the urge down and stepped out onto the apartment landing, with only a slight tilt to her lips in greeting, and turned away from him to lock the door of her small apartment. In hindsight, she had felt slightly insecure, wondering what he would be thinking of her, considering he most likely lived in the house of wind that stood proudly over the city like a soldier standing guard.

The entire building her apartment was a part of looked like a pebble in the face of that cliff.

It was an effort not to apologise to him for her living conditions. By no means was she struggling to get by, and her apartment was something many could only dream of, but it wasn’t the most lavish, either.

Azriel had spoken up and distracted her before she could beat herself up over the fact that he had seen her home, something so vulnerable and private, and guided her down and out, into the fading golden light that made Y/n feel ten times prettier.

After that, everything had gone pretty well, almost too well. It almost began concerning her when Azriel didn’t make any comments about things she was not comfortable talking to him about yet, as most men seemed only to be interested in taking her to bed for just one night.

But there was one thing that did concern her. The way he seemed to be physically unable to shut his mouth. It made her wonder, did he always talk this much? If yes, how the hell is he a spymaster if he keeps spilling secrets?

"-And then Cassian threw up all over me, and I had to scrub myself raw because I was so disgusted. I didn’t talk to him for a week." Azriel laughed, the faelights lighting up the air between him and Y/n in an attempt to make this more romantic and intimate glinting off his eyes. They were sitting in a diner, not too fancy, just the perfect amount of flashy and comforting.

Y/n tilted her head, lips twitching. When she spoke, it was not too hard to speak in her normal soft, quiet voice, considering she was in the presence of someone considered a predator. "Bet he felt so much guilt."

He nodded, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward, glancing down at his empty plate stained lightly with the leftovers of their dinner. "He wouldn’t stop apologising, and I felt bad for ignoring him. Eventually, I agreed to talk to him again if he promised to sit far from me the next time he drank so much."

Y/n huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head, trying to imagine the scene he described. Silence surrounded the two for a long moment, letting her mind wander, before he pulled her attention back to himself.

Gentle in his voice, but commanding her every thought to himself as effortlessly as he did those shadows.

Or maybe not, because it seemed they were set on ignoring him. They kept reaching out to play with her hair, her fingers, the sleeves of her loose white shirt every time his attention left them. He blushed hard every time, apologising constantly.

At this point, Y/n couldn’t help but think if he’d apologised more than he’d spoken anything else.

"Are you ready to leave?"

Y/n straightened, nodding. She grabbed her purse, following him to the exit, where he had already paid before she could catch up. At her glare, he simply flashed her an innocent smile.

"You didn’t have to pay for me."

He shrugged, watching intently as Y/n pulled her jacket closer to herself before shyly extending his arm for her to hold. Y/n only contemplated for a minute, taking note of the blush on his face darkening under flashes of light from shops down the road, before slipping her palm through his elbow.

He continued talking, telling her of how he’d been to this shop-and oh! Cassian had the biggest infatuation with that lady looking after that shop.

The shadows continued to sneak up to her, twining with her hair and caressing her back lightly like some sort of a protective lover. They even floated by towards the hand she wasn’t holding Azriel’s arm with and slithered in between the fingers, their touch light and barely tangible, but still very much there.

Azriel slowed down while she glanced down at the shadow climbing up and under her sleeve, looking at a nearby shop. "Have you ever tried ice-cream?"

It was a treat that had recently become popular from summer court and spread like wildfire throughout prythian. With good reason too.

Y/n followed his gaze to a pink coloured shop with striped red and white interior. The seats inside were over exaggerated blue and purple colour and entirely too large to be anything but for attracting people.

She nodded. "A couple of times."

He fumbled for a moment before clearing his throat. "Would you be interested-"

"Yes."

She had already begun walking towards the shop, carefully manoeuvring so as not to bump into anyone. Azriel hurried to keep pace, and Y/n smiled to herself, turning her head away from him to make sure he didn’t see it.

"Which flavour would you like?" He questioned once the two were inside, gaze fixed on the plethora of flavours displayed under the glass case. Y/n did not even have to consider after she saw her favourite flavour.

"Mint chocolate."

He blinked, lifting his head to look at her in surprise. "You like mint?"

Y/n gave him an unamused look. "What, are you going to lecture me about how it tastes disgusting?"

His cheeks darkened and he shook his head, hurriedly proceeding to explain. "No- no, I was just curious. I’ve never tried it, but Rhysand once said it tastes weird, so I was surprised you liked it-" he took a deep breath, his eyes wide as he stared at her.

Y/n’s lips quirked to the side. "Your high lord doesn’t have very good taste then."

Azriel only huffed, contrary to what Y/n expected, and gave their orders to the worker who stood behind the counter. Y/n only watched him, her eyes following his every move as he talked and took the treats from the worker, as he turned, his gaze instantly searching for her and meeting hers as she stood against a far wall.

Even his eyes seemed to smile as he made his way over to hand her the mint chocolate.

To make conversation- and also to make some effort herself, seeing as he had been trying to keep her engaged and entertained the whole evening- Y/n curiously peeked at his hand. "What did you get?"

He smiled. "Chocolate."

Y/n hummed, picking up her spoon and scooping up a small amount of ice cream into her mouth, relishing the sweetness before turning back to him and extending her cup towards him.

"You can try if you want."

He coughed, choking on his ice cream before shaking his head so vigorously to the point Y/n was concerned he’d sprain his neck. "No no, it’s alright."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, bored, until he reluctantly dipped his spoon into her cup and tasted the divine gift from god that was mint chocolate. His eyebrows rose imperceptibly, and he glanced down at his spoon before looking at Y/n.

"It’s good."

She shrugged. "I know. I don’t get why some people don’t like it. I guess they just hate good things."

"I might just get obsessed with it." He laughed under his breath before shoving another spoonful of his own ice cream into his mouth. She offered to share their ice creams, and he refused at first but after seeing that she really was serious, he agreed. The two ate in silence, staring out of the glass floor to ceiling window, letting quiet settle between them.

His presence was calming, comforting as no one else’s was. Y/n felt safe, like the world could be going into destruction but their little corner in this ice cream shop, with him, would be protected. It made Y/n question if she was thinking too much with her heart.

Feeling his gaze on her, Y/n glanced at Azriel twice, but each time, he was looking elsewhere.

It made her cheeks heat for reasons she couldn’t figure out.

Too soon, the sweet treat was finished, and it was time to part ways. Despite that, as Y/n and Azriel stood in front of her apartment after he had walked her home, she did not want to leave. It was so unlike her, so foreign to feel that way, but she, surprisingly, loved it.

But maybe unfamiliar things are good for you, or however those sayings go.

Azriel’s head was bowed as he toed at the grey stones of the pathway, his neck and ears flushed. He refused to look into her eyes for more than a moment, so shy Y/n wondered if she was playing the intimidating and brooding bookstore owner role too well.

Finally, after she couldn’t handle the silence and his nervous neck scratches anymore, she spoke.

"So, same time tomorrow?" He looked up, wide eyed. She scoffed.  "What? I didn’t think you told me all about your ancestry and your family’s personal lives just to have ice cream with me for one day. Did you?"

He cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

Y/n raised a brow, trying her best to not let her lips lift in a smile. "Well, are you?"

He nodded quickly, something like hope beginning to glow in his hazel eyes.

They’re pretty, Y/n thought to herself.

She turned away, before pausing and looking at him again. His smile remained unwavering the longer she stared at him.

But the smile did vanish once she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently against his cheek. She smirked to herself, proud of her accomplishments, and then left him standing in the snow.

She couldn’t wait to have more ice cream with him.

She was almost… excited, to see where this path would lead to.

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Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

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@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

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Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

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@okaytrashpanda

(tagging people who asked for a part 2 as well heh) @peachcontour-blog @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ayme301 @tele86

[taegularities]

A date???? Omgggg I'M HEREEEE, YEAAAAHHHH, IT'S HAPPENING!!!

IT'S ON ITS WAYYYYY 🥳 i'm going to take my time with the chapter, but still try to finish it up hopefully soon. and will then let y'all know the drop date! don't wanna rush it and reveal it too soon, so i don't disappoint anyone, BUT IT'S COMING!!!!! 🗣️

[ethereal-athalia]

YAYAYAYAYAYYAYAAAA ITS HEREEEE 🎉🎉🥳🥳🎊

I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE KOL SM 😭 ALSO THE ANGST??? THE PLEADING????? you KNEW what you were doing with this one

PLEASE add me to your kol taglist or i might combust

Where the Fire Settles

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Fem!Reader, Rebekah x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Kol Mikaelson has always been chaos wrapped in charm—fire and fury personified. But with you, he's something softer, quieter, settled. You can't help but wonder if Kol really sees you, or a lesser version of what he lost.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Angst (Of course! Are we surprised?), Insecurity, Hurt/Comfort. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

A/N: This is based on this request. Thank you so much Anon for sending this in. I hope this is exactly how you envisioned it! As always, thank you all so much for reading. I really hope you enjoy and that you have a wonderful day from this point forward!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

The chandeliers above the compound flicker with warm candlelight, casting long shadows over the worn brick walls and aged leather. Jazz drifts in from somewhere deep in the French Quarter—lazy and low—mingling with the clink of crystal and the occasional burst of laughter. Real laughter. The kind this house almost never hears.

At the heart of it all, Kol lounges on one of the vintage leather sofas, grinning like a king who’s conquered death itself. He’s practically glowing—relaxed in the way he only gets when he’s fully adored, which, tonight, he is. Surrounded by his siblings, and for once, no blood spilled, no daggers drawn. Just a toast to his eternal existence.

You’re tucked in beside him, a half-empty glass of champagne in hand, your fingers laced with his. The candlelight catches on the ring he gave you— antique, intricate, older than most empires. It gleams like a promise whispered across centuries. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, lingering just beneath the stone— a grounding gesture you’ve come to know well. He always touches you like he’s making sure you’re still there. 

The room smells like bourbon and birthday cake.

Rebekah is deep into one of her favorite stories, hands carving the air as she reenacts one of Kol’s more infamous escapades.

“You nearly exposed us that night in Madrid,” she says, laughing. “Nik was ready to dagger you on the spot.”

Kol scoffs. “Nik’s always ready to dagger me.”

“Only because you bloody earned it,” Klaus adds smoothly, swirling his bourbon with a smirk curling at the edges of his mouth.

“You impersonated a Spanish nobleman,” Elijah adds with a chuckle, “and seduced both the wife and the mistress. Simultaneously.”

Laughter erupts. You join in, but mostly, you watch. Listen. Trying to imagine this version of Kol— reckless, gleefully unhinged. It feels impossible. Not when the man they’re describing just gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Not when he looks at you like the world isn’t something to burn but something to protect.

It’s like hearing stories about a ghost. A Kol who doesn’t exist anymore.

Your Kol makes you breakfast in bed. He reads to you when you can’t sleep. He kisses your forehead like you’re made of glass. So different from the man who once danced on a burning bar with blood on his shirt and laughter in his lungs. 

Rebekah turns to Elijah, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What about the time he and Davina took on those cursed covens in the Quarter?”

You stiffen, just slightly. But Kol feels it. You know he does.

Davina.

The one name Kol never says around you. The one part of his past that stays locked away.

Elijah’s eyes gleam with the memory. “Ah, yes. Quite the spectacle.”

“She was a hell of a witch,” Klaus says, grinning into his glass. “Young, fierce, dangerously gifted.”

“She matched Kol in every way that mattered,” Elijah muses.

Something inside you twists.  

“They were inseparable,” Klaus continues, almost fond. “He adored that little spell of hers. Snap a neck with the flick of a wrist.”

Kol’s fingers are still laced with yours, but they feel heavier now. Or maybe it’s your heart.

You hadn’t heard much about her—just whispers, fragmented echoes. His partner in mayhem. The girl who nearly became Mrs. Kol Mikaelson. She had magic. Power. She had him when he belonged to the blood and chaos. The world he still carries in his bones. The world you’ll never fully touch.

What were you, compared to that?

Just… human.

Kol turns to you with a lazy smile, eyes warm. “You’re awfully quiet, darling. Everything alright?”

You nod. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And you mean to be. Because it’s his birthday. He’s happy. And you love him more than anything.

So you swallow the ache pressing against your ribs. You laugh at the next story. You raise your glass when they toast. You kiss him when they cut the cake.

But somewhere deep in your mind, a whisper takes root:

Why would he choose you?

-*-

You stand alone in the parlor, stacking a few stray glasses onto a tray. The air still holds the scent of melting wax and leftover cake. From the kitchen, Rebekah’s voice drifts in—giving Kol hell over something, probably the way he butchered the cake. His laugh echoes back, warm and carefree.

Your fingers drift unconsciously to the ring on your hand. You twist it slowly, again and again, the way you always do when your thoughts get too loud. A silent comfort. A grounding weight.

You should be happy. Content. The night went well. Kol is happy. The house hums with family, laughter, warmth.

But your mind keeps drifting.

To her. To those stories. To Elijah’s voice, low and reverent.  

She matched Kol in every way that mattered.

Your stomach churns. Not in anger. In something softer. Meaner. The slow, creeping ache you could never explain out loud.

Hearing about his time with the witch wasn’t new. You knew the broad strokes— the engagement, the subsequent heartbreak, the legendary love wrapped in blood and fire. You heard the whispers about her. The legacy. The power. Kol never talks about her, but the world does. Witches who whisper her name, Vampires who remember how fiercely they fought for each other. A girl who lit the Quarter ablaze and stood her ground beside an Original Vampire.

And you? You’re just… human.

No magic. No bloodline. No armor.

No place in this world except the one directly next to Kol.

You don’t hear him come in until his arms slide around your waist from behind. He presses a lazy kiss just behind your ear.

“You vanished,” he murmurs into your hair. “Thought I’d been abandoned on my own bloody birthday.”

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just cleaning up.”

He turns you gently in his arms, his fingers warm against your sides. His eyes— soft, brown, and endlessly mischievous— study you. His gaze narrows slightly.

“You’re quiet, darling. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You look up at him. Hesitant. 

It’s stupid, really. It’s not fair to ruin his night.

And yet.

“She meant a lot to you.” 

It isn’t accusatory. It isn’t bitter. Just factual. But it drops between you like a stone in still water.

You don’t say her name. You don’t have to.

His expression shifts— subtle, but immediate. The warmth drains just a little.

He lets out a slow breath, stepping back just enough to really look at you. He waits a beat, then nods. “She did.”

You nod too. You already knew that. That’s not what hurts.

Your eyes drop to your hands, to the ring on your finger. You twist it once, then again, like the motion might steady your thoughts. Like it might anchor you to him. But tonight, even that familiar weight feels unsteady. 

“She was powerful. Fierce. She was part of your world in a way I’ll never be.”

“Hey,” Kol’s voice sharpens slightly. He lifts your chin with two fingers, trying to catch your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m not trying to start something,” you say quickly. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. The stories. The way everyone talks about her like she’s fire and fury. Like she fit beside you. And I’m—”

“Mine,” Kol interrupts, firmer now. “You’re mine. You belong with me.”

You try to laugh, but it cracks halfway through. “Do I? Or are you still trying to convince yourself?”

Kol’s eyes narrow, the first real flicker of temper rising.

You keep going. The words are tumbling out faster than your brain can catch them.

“Everyone looks at us and wonders what an Original Vampire like you is doing with someone like me. And maybe they don’t say it out loud, but I see it. I feel it in every single one of their gazes.”

You take a shaky breath. Your voice softens.

“I don’t have magic, Kol. I don’t have power. I don’t even have a place in this city unless it’s beside you. And I know you love me — I do — but part of me keeps wondering…”

Your throat tightens. The ache crawls higher.

“If you ever miss what you had with her.”

Kol tenses. “This again?”

“Yes. This,” you snap, louder than you intended. “Because she fought with you. Bled with you. She was part of the fire and the dark. And me? I just sit here and hope you come home in one piece.”

Kol’s jaw tightens. “You think that’s what I want? That chaos again?”

“I think part of you misses it,” you whisper. “And if not the chaos… maybe just her.”

Kol runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Maybe I do miss her— at least she didn’t turn every bloody conversation into a trial.”

The words are out before he can catch them.

Silence.

Your breath catches, unable to breathe around the impact. You stare at him— disbelieving, shattered.

Kol’s face shifts instantly. “Wait—darling, that’s not—”

You don’t give him a chance.

“No.” Your voice is low. Flat. “That’s exactly what you meant.”

You step back. The weight of the ring on your finger suddenly unbearable.

“Maybe you should go find her, then.”

You twist the ring off your finger, undoing something that you thought was sacred. You shove the piece of jewelry into his palm like it’s searing through your skin. He doesn’t stop you.

“I’m sorry I’m not her,” you whisper. “But I won’t stand here and be punished for it.”

You turn, tears finally spilling over. The sound of your heartbeat drowning out the sound of your footsteps on the tile. You barely register Rebekah’s voice from the hall. All you see is the bedroom door and the blur of tears as you lock yourself inside. 

And when the sob finally breaks from your chest, it doesn’t stop.

Kol stares at the closed bedroom door, the ring heavy in his palm. The warmth of your hand still clings to the metal like a ghost. His brain hasn't quite caught up to his mouth— the words still hang in the air, ugly and unforgiving.

What the hell had he just done?

He takes a step forward, ready to knock, to beg, to undo it all— but a voice cuts through the tension, sharp and low.

“Don’t.”

Rebekah.

She steps out from the hallway shadows,arms folded, posture stiff with fury. Her heels click against the floor — precise, deliberate — as she closes the distance between them.

There’s a long beat. A quiet standoff between siblings, too alike in their anger. 

“I need to talk to her.”

“No,” she snaps, stepping firmly in front of her brother. “You don’t get to hurt her like that and then chase after her two seconds later like a kicked puppy looking for forgiveness.”

Kol clenches his jaw, frustration bubbling up. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” Rebekah cuts in. “I understand that the best thing that’s ever happened to you is in that room, sobbing her heart out, because you couldn’t keep your bloody ego in check.”

Kol flinches, jaw ticking.

“You’re one to talk,” he snaps suddenly, eyes flashing. “You’re the one who brought up Davina in the first place— stirred the pot and walked away. You practically lit the match.”

Rebekah doesn’t even blink.

“Oh, don’t you dare try to put this on me.” Her voice drops low, dangerous. “I mentioned Davina. You turned it into a bloody wrecking ball. Don’t confuse your guilt with my honesty.”

She steps in closer, her presence fierce and unshakable.

“She loves you. Do you get that? Do you have any idea how rare that is? Someone who loves you— not your charm, not your power, not your name. You. She’s stood by you when any sane person would have run. She makes you better, Kol.”

He looks away, guilt twisting his insides.

“You're softer with her. You smile more. Hell, you even think before you kill now— most of the time.”

He lets out a bitter breath.

“She’s not Davina,” Rebekah continues, softer now. “And thank God for that. Because Davina may have matched your darkness, but that girl in there? She made you want to leave it behind.”

Kol’s fingers tighten around the ring, knuckles white.

“She stands by you even when it terrifies her. Even when she feels small and breakable and wrong for you. She worries she’s not enough, that she’ll never be enough for someone like you. And instead of proving her wrong, tonight, you proved her right.”

“I didn’t—” he tries again.

“But you did.” Rebekah cuts in, merciless. “You did, Kol. And you need to fix it. Not with flowers or pretty words or that half-smirk you use to charm your way out of trouble. You apologize. And you mean it. Grovel if you have to.”

Kol is quiet. He looks smaller now— or maybe just exposed. The kind of pain he usually masks with cruelty bleeding through in silence.

Rebekah exhales and softens. Just slightly.

“She’s not a witch. She’s not a warrior. She doesn’t belong to this world like we do. But she’s chosen you anyway. She’s still choosing you. Don’t be such a bloody fool that you make her regret it.”

Kol stares down at the ring.

The weight of it— the weight of everything— presses against his chest.

“Give her time,” Rebekah says, finally stepping aside.Her voice lowers, warning laced with sibling affection. “But when you go to her, Kol… mean it. Or I swear, I’ll dagger you myself.”

-*-

You sit curled on the edge of the bed, knees hugged to your chest, eyes red and swollen. Rebekah steps inside, her heels now silent against the rug. She doesn’t speak right away. She just crosses the room and sits beside you.

The silence between you is gentle. Compassionate.

“I didn’t mean to ruin his birthday,” you whisper.

Rebekah glances over. “You didn’t. He did.”

You let out a small, broken laugh. “I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. All of it. The stories, the way people talk about her. About them. Like they were this perfect match. What do I have to offer compared to that? I’m just…”

“Human?” Rebekah supplies gently.

You nod, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. “I just don’t understand why me. I can’t fight beside him. I can’t protect him. I don’t belong in this world, Rebekah. I’m not strong. I’m not... anything like what he needs.”

“You are,” she says instantly. “And that’s not me being nice. It’s the truth.”

You let your gaze drop. “I just… I saw him tonight. The way he lit up talking about that time in his life. With her, he was… alive. Untouchable. He didn’t have to hold back.”

“He also left a trail of destruction in his wake,” Rebekah replies, her voice dry. “Kol back then was a storm with teeth. Dangerous, reckless, impossible to rein in. You think that’s something to envy?”

Rebekah’s tone softens. “You don’t tame him. You anchor him. You make him want to be still. To be better. And trust me— Kol Mikaelson has never wanted to be better for anyone.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“And look,” she continues, quieter now, “Kol lives in that same fear. Of being unworthy. Of not being enough. It’s been carved into him since we were children. Which is why what he said tonight…” She pauses. “It was cruel. And he knows it.”

You close your eyes. “It just hurt so much.”

“I know,” she says, placing a steady hand over yours. “But if there’s one thing I know for certain— and that’s saying something— it’s that Kol loves you more than he knows how to handle. That doesn't excuse anything. But it means he’ll fight to make it right.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, softly you speak, “I don’t know if I can forgive him tonight.”

“Good,” Rebekah says bluntly. “He doesn’t deserve it yet. Let him sit in it. Make him earn it.”

You manage a soft laugh through your tears.

“Come on,” she says, rising. “Take a breather. Let him wonder if he’s truly ruined it.”

You nod slowly, rubbing at your face. “Okay.”

You stand. Rebekah walks you to the door, arm lightly around your shoulders.

As she opens it, you glance up at her.

“Thank you.”

She squeezes your hand. “Always.”

-*-

You return just after dusk.

The Quarter is quieter now— its usual pulse slowed to a soft hum of distant music and street lamps flickering to life. You walk slowly, trying to breathe in the cool air, hoping it will help wash the hurt away. But your heart is still bruised. Your fingers twist absentmindedly in the absence of your ring.

When you reach the compound, Rebekah is sitting near the door with a glass of wine. She looks up as you enter, eyes scanning your face carefully.

“You okay?” she asks.

You nod once, offering a tired smile. “Is he here?”

She sighs. “Upstairs. Been pacing like a madman. Looks like someone gutted him and left him standing.”

You nod again and make your way up. Each step feels heavier than the last.

You open the bedroom door slowly. And stop.

The entire room is covered in flowers.

Hundreds of them— your favorite shade of pink, full and soft, overflowing from mismatched vases, lining the windowsill, scattered in delicate trails across the bed. The air is thick with the scent of honey and roses.

Kol stands near the bed, shoulders rigid, hands twisted together like he doesn’t trust them not to shake.

When he sees you, his whole body stills. His red-rimmed eyes lock on yours, wide with something raw. Desperate.

“Before you walk away again,” he blurts, voice ragged, “please. Five minutes. You don’t have to say a word. You can hate me. Just… let me speak.”

You hesitate in the doorway.

“I’m not ready to talk,” you murmur.

“I’ll talk,” he says. “You listen.”

You step inside.

He doesn’t move toward you. Just begins.

“I’m sorry.” The words scrape out of him, cracked and unpolished. “Not just for what I said— though that alone was bloody awful— but for even letting you feel that way in the first place.”

You don’t speak.

“I was an idiot,” he continues. “No, worse. I was cruel. I lashed out and I used the most painful thing I could find to hurt you because—” He cuts off, jaw tight. “I got scared.”

You blink. “Scared?”

“That I don’t deserve you.” His voice is quiet now. “Because I don’t. I never have. You’re kind, and human, and good. You let me be soft with you, and that scares the hell out of me.”

You’re still frozen in place, but your heart is beating louder now.

“I’ve never had anything this real,” he confesses. “Not in a thousand years. And I’ve done nothing in this world to earn it. So when you started doubting us tonight, I panicked. Because some part of me still believes that one day, you’ll wake up and realize you deserve better.”

His throat works around the next words.

“I don’t want her,” he says. “I want you. The woman who brings me back when my instincts scream to destroy. The woman who looks at me like I’m worth something. The woman who taught me that peace isn’t boring. It’s just... safe.”

You take a trembling breath. Your chest tightens.

“I’m sorry I made you feel small,” he whispers. “You are not. You are everything.”

The quiet stretches long between you.

Then softly, you say, “You can’t expect everything to be okay with an apology.”

“I don’t,” he says. “But I had to try.”

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls something out.

Your ring.

He walks to you slowly, then kneels— petals crunching faintly beneath him.

“I’ll wait,” he says. “If that’s what it takes. But I’m asking again. Will you still marry me?”

Your lips part. Tears finally spill over, silent and warm against your cheeks. You don’t speak. You just step forward and drop to your knees in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He clutches you like you’re the last thing anchoring him to the world.

“Yes,” you whisper against his shoulder.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. Gently, reverently, he slides the ring back onto your finger, then presses a kiss to your hand like it’s sacred.

“I’m still mad,” you murmur.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“And you still have a lot of making up to do.”

“I plan on it,” he says. “Starting with dinner. Just us. Sushi. The good kind.”

You nod, breath catching on a laugh. “Okay.”

He kisses you then— slow and full of apology. Full of promise. His hands frame your face like you’re the only thing in the world that’s ever made him feel steady.

And in that moment, you believe him.

-*-

The next few days are… different.

Kol is everywhere.

He holds your hand when you walk. Wraps an arm around your waist while you make tea. Follows you from room to room like a cologne-wearing shadow who thinks everything you say is the most brilliant thing he’s ever heard.

And he is absurdly affectionate.

Every kiss is too long. Every compliment is too loud. The flowers multiply daily— fresh blooms on your pillow, tucked into your boots, even braided into a crown he insists you wear around the house until Rebekah snaps a picture (and promises to use it as blackmail).

You should be annoyed.

But you’re not.

Because he means every word. Because every brush of his fingers feels like a promise: I won’t hurt you like that again.

This morning, he’s curled beside you on the couch, your legs draped over his lap. The TV hums softly in the background, but Kol is more interested in playing with your fingers, absently twisting the engagement ring like he’s still marveling that it’s back where it belongs.

You sip your tea and side-eye him. “You do realize the ring’s staying on this time, right?”

He grins. “I’m just making sure it fits. Permanently.”

The door swings open. Rebekah strides into the room holding a half-empty vase, her expression one of theatrical exasperation.

“Kol,” she says flatly. “If I find one more flower in my shampoo, I’m going to make Freya hex your eyebrows off.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Please. I’d look dashing with no brows.”

“Seriously,” Klaus calls from the hallway, voice full of disdain, “it’s like a bloody florist exploded in here.”

You glance at Kol, who only smirks.

“I’m in love,” he says, utterly unrepentant. “We’re celebrating.”

“With daisies in my coat pockets?” Klaus mutters.

“You’re welcome,” Kol replies. Then he turns to you and drops his voice to a dramatic whisper, “Ignore them, darling. They’ve simply never known love like ours.”

You roll your eyes, but the grin tugs at your lips anyway.

Rebekah sighs. “I actually liked you better when you were brooding.”

“Impossible,” Kol declares, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m radiant now.”

Klaus snorts and disappears upstairs. Rebekah mutters something about needing more wine.

You shake your head, laughing softly. “You know they’re never going to let this go.”

Kol just pulls you closer. “Let them tease. I have you.”

You glance down at your ring again, your heart full.

Peace doesn’t come easy in this world.

But right now, it’s wrapped in a floral-scented Original Vampire who won’t stop looking at you like you hung the stars.

And for the first time in a long time, forever doesn’t seem so scary after all.

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[thelov3lybookworm]

Delusions?

Summary: New guard duties and a free eye candy

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Word Count: 888 (heheh)

Warnings: none <3

A/n: honestly idk why this took me this long to write 🥲 BUT IT IS FINALLY HEREEEE🥳based on this request <3

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

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"Y/n?"

She paused, the rag in her hand stilling on her shining blade as she looked up, brows furrowed. The voice of the male sent shivers down her spine.

In a good way, she thought.

Her section leader walked over to the tall male who stood over the ground entrance like a menacing gargoyle with a mission. He wore his cloak’s hood low over his eyes, and his head tilted downwards to talk to the captain. She decided it was best she packed up the cleaning supplies before she had to leave.

At least, that was what she was guessing.

It took her a few moments to throw the rag into a bin and put away oils and cleaners, then return to the captain, who walked over to her.

Being one of his best soldiers, she found it pride worthy that he knew her name even. Most section leaders didn’t bother with soldier’s names unless they were sure they wouldn’t die during a fight. Makes it better for the conscience, Y/n assumed.

"You up for a guard position, girl?" He questioned as soon as she was within hearing distance, and her eyebrows rose.

"Sure, who am I protecting?"

"The Queen sent a summons for you. Think she got the previous guard killed or something. Maybe she’s got a new guest visiting who she wants to take care of." The older man jerked his chin at the male who had called Y/n’s name. "Brute refuses to give more information."

Y/n’s peered over at him, then straightened the moment her eyes landed on his figure. He seemed to be watching her too. She pondered, then shrugged. "Sure, I see no problem."

Her captain grunted. "Don’t get ya’self killed, girl. You’re one of the only good ones here."

Y/n smiled. It was rare to get a compliment from the closed off captain, but when someone did, it was only because they were genuinely good.

She ducked her head. "Thank you, captain. Should I pack my things?"

He waved a hand in the air. "The brute said the queen just wants to talk first, and then if she approves, she will send someone to collect your things."

Y/n nodded, then waited until the captain walked away before making her way towards the male. She felt his gaze on her the entire time.

"You… are Y/n?" Were the first words he uttered as she stepped up to him.

She raised a brow. "Why? You expected a man?"

He shook his head, the hood swaying with the motion. "It’s just… you look a little less fit than what I expected."

Her lips parted in shock. She waited for him to apologise, or something, but he simply turned on his heel and walked away.

Did he expect her to follow him like a dog? She scoffed and dug her feet in, wrapping her arms across her chest and watched him walk away. Only after a long moment did he pause and look back. She could see his stance change even though she couldn’t see his face.

Silent moments passed, and he reluctantly ducked his head, tilting it to gesture to her to follow him. And she did.

The two walked for almost an hour in silence before they reached the palace. Once they were within the walls, he pulled off his hood, and Y/n’s jaw dropped open.

He. Was. Majestic.

She had figured he’d be pretty handsome, considering his height and muscles that already peeked out of his slightly unbuttoned shirt, but she hadn’t expected…this.

The long hair, the sharp jaw, the skin even. It was making Y/n drool.

"Stop staring." He grumbled.

She looked away, clearing her throat and swallowing as blood made its way to her neck. "I-I wasn’t-"

"I can almost see water dripping from your mouth."

"Why, wish it was something else dripping from me?" Y/n countered without thought. When she replayed the words in her head, her whole body flashed cold. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she watched him turn and stare at her in disbelief.

And maybe Y/n was being delusional, but she could swear his ears looked red.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to overstep."

He said nothing, just paused at a set of wide doors. She could not look away from his muscles, the way they flexed, the way his hair swayed. His hips.

She swallowed again and looked up to see him staring at her, his hand on one of the door’s handles. She figured she had to go inside, but she didn’t want to leave his presence. It was intoxicating, even when he had barely said any words.

"A shame, really."

Y/n blinked, trying to figure out what he meant. And then she realised that he was responding to her apology.

Oh.

Oh.

"I-"

"She’s waiting for you."

Y/n stopped, both grateful and annoyed at the opportunity. Grateful because she knew she would say something stupid if she spoke, and annoyed because she had to look away from the art that he was.

She nodded, then walked inside.

And maybe she was being delusional again, but she could feel his gaze on her back, raking fingers of awareness down her spine.

Just delusional… of course.

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